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gayspock · 3 months

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ok 1 menty b for me

i dont know. i think its just always been so alienating. i think theres something wrong with me and its unfixable. and sometimes, if i cant have anything else, i just want at least the fucking chance to express that without people thinking even less of me. and ik in reality nobody even gaf or sees me. but i also know know that if they did, 9times out fo 10 people would be rolling their eyes. whatever. idk. i feel so lonely and i dont think im ever not going to be lonely and its never going to get better because even when given the resources, the opportunities i just can never manage . i just cant . i swear i try . but every single time. my whole fucking life . i just walk away from everything with even less, it feels like. and its getting so much harderand harder. and i dont know how to express it liek ... i fucking feel myself SEETHE as ppl keep insisting "theres still a chance! there's still hope!" like sure bro. but i dont want to fucking keep living my life along the fucking asymptote of getting consistently closer to dying alone but "haha technically its not a certainty" and . like theres just something so fucking repulsive about me and i just cant seem to fix it no matter what. and im so exhausted all the time. and i genuinely dont think theres any way out of that . i go to work and i come home so burnt out and tired. and people are nice there but i dont think i can really connect with anyone . i just cant seem to get close to people . and i dont have it within me to meet anyone else because im so fucking tired all of the time .

and even if i did and i mustered all the energy and spent all the little time i had left in the world i dont think theyd have time for me. not just bc nobody in their 20s does but also because i dont know . it just never seems to work . and i cant do it again where i try to invest every little piece of me into it when its jsut always left me fucking miserable and pathetic. bro do you know what i mean. not to be 16 and lame as shit still. i feel like im always the idiot ppl take pity on at best . i dont think ive ever been real to anybody. like alwaysssssss...... and even now i feel like every time I HAVE existed within circles of others. its literally 10 times out of 10 just constantly fighting to be included and seen as someone whos not a fucking joke and i just feel like such a fucking . loser for caring so much about it when. REALISTICALLY. pretty much all the people ive met in life will have forgotten i exist. and ok. ok. i just dont think ... like its not like some trait within me right like ... im not As melodramatic to be like oh . oh theres an actual innate trait within me thats activated and stops people liking me. just. the contrary like. i just think theres nothing within me to actually like . or to gravitate towards. so likeyeah sure . that makes sense. why WOULD you want to bother with someone whos just kinda hollow or whatever.. something something or other. and i kind of wish i was more resilient about tht. but i jsut . i guess as is a Guy of that Nature, its just ... im trying to fucking not fucking spiral but i just feel myself fucking filling up with fucking . miserable SHITTY bile or whatever because i just wish i felt normal or whatever. its such a fucking human fucking thing that other people can MANAGE. but i cant . its so so fucking hard and i cant do it and i cant handle it. and i just feel so angry sometimes anyways . bc i hate it . and i keep trying bc i wanna make peace with it because i know theres no out . like ive long since given up on ever thinking its going to work out . because nothing fucking helps but makes it so much worse . anyways. i dont know. but i dont know bro. it drives me fucking insane when people always spout some bs about how "haha everyone has someone! everyone will find someone! like no they dont no they wont . its so .. so much more isolating. or like "EVERYONEEE feels lonely sometimes" like HOW does that help. HOW. and it makes it so MUCH FUCKING WORSEEEE when people tell you about how lonely they are too!!! like cool . i dont have a chance then. sorry i know thats such a bitter bitch thing to say. but idk if it rlly matters like ... at the end of the day idc when ppl have partners. or people they talk to. family who loves them. and youre still lonely. cool. thank you for letting me know, dude. go back to the people who will look out for you and love you whilst i sit in the dark and not speak to anyone for weeks whilst not a single person would even notice im gone .

or like. bro. i dont think a single person has taken me seriously for long enough to ever fucking like me or hold me in enough regard to like... want to talk to me again nevermind like be with me in a certain sense so i jsut. i dont know. sits alone. every fucking day for years maybe. i dont know. i feel so fucking sad and angry knowing deep down that i can know all this and know its true but even then . i cant even have that . people wont even take THAT part of me seriouslyand think im just some fucking idiot whos not even trying. when i really reallyhave but its just so... worthless it feels like . it feels like im never getting anywhere and everyone thinks i just gave up when i didnt. and i dont know. thar makes it sound like people actually see me and really are laughing or something when i dont think its nearly that much. i think its like oh people see me make that as a snap judgement and i fall out of existence again. and i dont know. it shouldnt matter but i feel so fucking strung out and exist between these instances only and idk. idk bro. im trying to be okay with it. but as im getting older i just feel like theres so many more things that are revealing themselves as worse and worse. and im going crazy. im going crazzzzzzyyyy . whatever . insert the mental breakdown gifs . the funny ones where those guys aremoving really fast

#egg.txt

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boojersey · 1 year

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☕ fave mcr eras and albums?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OKAY OKAY I LIKE THIS ONE AND HOPE NO ONE HATES ME FOR MY ORDER BUT

1. revenge (obviously i mean look at me i am drenched in black and red at all times and gerards hair was just so nice) specific parts include flour face gerard and that photoshoot with the blood covering his hand in a building with brick walls and arches it looked like a church basement and the vampire one for kerrang where its a girls back and theyre covered in blood and hes biting her neck hehe, reasoning for it being my favorite is it has only one song i skip (ghost of you) and every other has a lot more that i usually do and just how theatric and dramatic but also edgy everything was, tbp is more theatric BUT theres more Hope vibes and this is that but with despair and blood and guns and coffins and that just appeals to me fundamentally way more especially when im in my bag. it probably has my most favorite songs too, like to the end cemetery drive jetset life and HANG EM HIGH OR MOTHERFUCKING DIE. maybe my favorite mcr song but im not thinking too hard when i say that

pic of my closet below lmao two of my favorite drawings ive done (theyre for sale wink wink! dm me if interested anyone, gerard is blacklight reactive)

2. bullets, its just so suburban i feel like I'm back in Jersey its October and im walking past cul de sacs and the sunset is bright fucking orange its fantastic its art in every sense and its full of sorrow bc its the closest album chronologically to 9/11 and gerard had the least sureness in the future but he was so confident and it just bleeds into everything so hard, my favorite moments in life are majorly moments similar to what i described. wearing a hoodie and jeans and converse and observing the way the streetlights color the concrete and asphalt, especially if theres been rain. chinese food from family restaurants and rolling rock beer and sitting at neighborhood playgrounds on the swingset rocking back and forth with the carbonation buzzing in your brain. favorite moments include the pic of frank and gerard smoking on pool chairs and that pic of them in some grandmas house with wooden walls and a china and tchotchke cabinet and lace curtains and im pretty sure mikeys sitting on the leg of a couch.it was my desktop bg for a year or two.

3. black parade; i really appreciate the death topic and i will admit i struggle to get on the Hope wavelength throughout esp in famous last words ykno the keep on living part but there are some of my favorite fucking demos like emily and all the angels and im Pretty surE desert song but smack my ass and call me a moron if its wrong. i will say visually other than the marching band outfits its the least interesting era, the white hair was just kinda there to me and no one else had anything outstandingly russling my jimmies. frank did have some cute hair curls on his bangs tho sometimes. i do rlly like the whole haunted vibe tho bc of the paramounts effect on them tho, when i notice it in songs and lyrics it is pretty effective in makin my spine straighten with the hollow eyed, sleepless and frankly a little scared nervous energy. house of wolves has been in my rotation the past month or so bc it reminds me of trevor gta a lot. wttbp i skip every time just about. i save that song for when people are trying to be emo allies and queue it on the aux or when it comes on the radio or in public. blood is AMAZING and reminds me a lot of the song air from the hair soundtrack, and i wonder if gerard was trying to specifically mimic that songs vibe because if u ask me thats very gerard. i think overall the concept and the lore of the album's fruition appeal to me more than anything else, i also love mother war and some of the other various character designs.

4. current era; im saying this because foundations of decay is literally that promising of a single and the shows' outfits are so wonderful and the energy and love and happiness is just so fucking palpable that i already know this is where the new album is gonna sit for me. its gonna be so fucking good. we all know this so well. favorites include nurse gerard the mikey fuckin way shirts and that slicked back hair gerard mmf yum

5. danger days; im SORRRY i just. the songs only appeal to me on a surface level aside from destroya and i always just get rlly bad feelings when i see pics of gerard bc i know he said he was starving himself and it makes me :/ more than anything else seeing him. i feel Bad saying he looked hot. this is also the only album with songs i actively dislike within. i will say that when i say i like destroya. i fucking Love destroya. its so good its so fucking good its everything to me. OH and im gonna include the killjoys comic in this and say that even though i love it so fucking much its not enough to put it above current era. its not that i dislike danger days. its that every other era is so strong compared in my mind that since something has to be last it will be this. favorite moments include the videos of them behind the scenes for na na na laughing and having fun the photoshoot with the backdrop where they're all underneath it and gerard looks like a fucking otherworldly being level insane like hes made of porcelain and the mv shots of them in the trans am at night especially going in the tunnel speeding ass out of town. i will add that i discovered mcr thru sing bc it was on a rhythm game i owned at 11 and i still remember the two days before mcr broke up when i finally remembered to give them a listen and openly cried watching them all die in the killjoy vids so theres a nostalgic rawness that part of me wants to leave preserved like an artifact at a museum.

anyway novel over those are my full thoughts on the mcr eras

things i didnt mention that i shouldve include the bat buckle the infamous stage kiss the spitting and gerard palming his cock through his jeans on stage lmao

oh also dewees is great and needs more recognition

#pretty sure i just spent 20 minutes writing this

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girlingseason · 1 year

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this blog isn't like, SECRET secret or anything like I'll post my face if I feel like it and if someone I know stumbles across it who cares etc. but I haven't used insta or twitter since mid-2018 which has been absolutely a net positive in my life and overall beneficial to my artistic mind because the pressure to churn out a high volume of micro content at the cost of quality was poison to my mind. Especially as a girl trying to escape poverty, the hustle culture/meritocracy myth was far too alluring. Work hard, be consistent, above all be SEEN and youll make it. But i wasnt making shit I wanted to "make it" for. I couldnt give myself permission to slow down and surrender to my natural inclination for sculpture - not literal sculpture but it's an image I've carried with me for a long time in regards to my process. I am a slow, careful and detailed creator. The things i really want and need to make take TIME to reveal themselves as I chip away. years. so for that reason and many others, instagram didnt feel like a positive creative outlet for me anymore. The only negative is that i havent had really ANY outlet at all since then, and it has weirdly impacted my motivation. Its so weird tho like?? Instagram made me feel like i had to make too many little things, but without it the little things feel like kind of a waste of energy, and since the big things are taking so fucking long to come to fruition im not getting any sense of accomplishment, or FEELING like a person who makes things. Ive just started to feel the need for a place to put the little things I make on the road to the big things, so there is some witness or at least documentation to confirm that, yes, I am still an artist. I could have started posting on instagram again but I fucking hate the algorithm and ui now and furthermore I remembered the restriction I felt on there knowing there were family, ex friends and god knows who else I knew irl following me, plus feeling like I had to be a ~brand~ always polished and consistent. Tumblr feels fixed yet ephemeral at the same time. I barely expect my posts to even be seen, but it still feels like a solidifying act, just to put something out there. I remembered too what a sanctuary tumblr was for me back in the day. Albeit a radioactive one, but I've never had that level of freedom and semi-anonymity again on the internet. I've never been able to start from scratch and just be whoever I want to be. Or post a poem without worrying whether it's perfect or fits the image I want my artistic persona to have in the future. Or post a photo I took just because it's beautiful or evokes something within me, without worrying whether it's interrupting the aesthetic of a grid. Maybe even post some music !! I want a place to stretch my legs, share things just because I made them and someone might just like it, without a single thought towards gaining followers or earning money (as much as I'd love the money!!!!! I'm liberating my art from capitalism as much as humanly possible cos it's fucking miserable otherwise!!!!!!!!). cos that's the other thing, I've gotten SO out of practice at sharing!! I don't share ANYTHING I make with ANYONE anymore and it's killing my slowly. I don't create just to express something and move on, I create because I want to connect with people. I've got such bad fucking posting paralysis ESPECIALLY if it's anything I've made. So I'm hoping this will help me get over that. Maybe feeling a little too hopeful about this considering life truly fucking sucks right now but I do currently have a hunger for creation though I don't quite know how to direct it, I'll try my best to guide it somewhere good.

#text #personal #posting this without fixing the mistakes lol otherwise I'll lose motivation to post it at all

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hopeididntscareyou · 1 year

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nice guys

i invited this guy to come over my place late at night and he literally stayed until 2am and we still didnt get no action 🙁 this is the same guy who said he likes me and would always try to talk to me (texts only tho so that proves nothing much to me) so im just confused why is he not making any moves on me? like jfc im not going to call the cops on you if you express how u feel about me in person. i mean i get it, youre a nice guy. i wouldnt want to be alone with you in the first place if i knew you werent. But wheres ur masculine energy man. even the nerdiest and introverted guy ive ever been with got his courage last minute to say he wanted to kiss me and there you are just asking me what else do i wanna know or talk about like bruh. im tryna have a good time and be affectionate with you. but you're also kinda blocking me with all these stupid things you tell me its like your shoving it to my face that theres nothing special with me and our date is going nowhere bc its not that REALLY good. so i dont even know why you still want to go out with me then if i bored you that much. im slowly losing my interest now tbh. thats why i ghosted him for 3 days. he followed up on me and told me he misses me?? but i just dont feel i have time for this if its going nowhere. i have better things to do with my life. i have a strict routine and i'm sacrificing some of that to make some time for you and were getting nowhere and i hate how unproductive it is.. like i'm sorry i sounded like just a fuck girl but idk i feel like like im not getting anything out of this like idk man..help me?

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imagines-mha · 3 years

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◇ Haikyuu on Tinder ◇

Daichi: so BORING. His pictures are all from the same awkward selfie angle and no matter what you ask him he gives you dull answers. “What are you up to?” “just sitting here : ) what about you?”

Suga: only goes on tinder when he needs validation cus he knows hes hot but in NO WAY is he ready to commit yet and he understands noone on tinder ever really is so he never feels guilty for it

Noya: uses the picture of him with the fish 🤢. Flirts like his life depends on it, but that doesnt mean hes good. “Woah you’re real???”. if you give him a chance his true personality rlly does come thru

Tanaka: makes parties his only personality trait. Always “on it” as he says, but like,,, what does tht mean get a hobby. Also hits you with the “holy shit you’re gorgeous , how come ive never seen you before? ;))” good for validation

Ennoshita: HES SO BAD AT FLIRTING. He’ll hit you up like “hi : )” and then proceed to have the dryest convo youve ever had in your life. Tells you nothing about himself and doesnt even try to save it when it falls flat

Tsukishima: definitely puts smth like “dont text me if you cant handle my complex mind and sarcastic humour” and definitely gaslights you.

Yamaguchi: he gets WAY TOO SHY and makes noya and tanaka do it all for him. Never really uses it unless he’s having a breakdown about his love life

Yachi: she uses it for validation like suga only refuses to admit that she does. Super popular on it cus of how cute she dresses but shes too nervous to text anyone back

Kuroo: spends all his time talking to milfs and loses every inch of his dignity when someone asks to see his tinder profile

Kenma: nekoma tried to pay him to make tinder once and he refused, saying he would never sink that low. he actually downloaded it once and deleted it 15 minutes after incase anyone he knew found it

Lev: asks you if you have snapchat immediately. It’s a trap. He’ll definitely spam you every single day with “how are you today” “what are you doing rn”. Its sweet at first but when you wake up one morning with 54 unread messages from a tinder dude, you know its time to block

Oikawa: gets it when his girlfriend breaks up with him solely to prove to himself he’s loveable but nothing works out because he NEVER messages back.

Iwa- gets it when hes bored and he’s GORGEOUS but talks about the gym way too muh in his bio like we get it you work out find another personality trait. Also can’t flirt

Makki: his bios been “taking a year off to live my life to the fullest and figure out my next big move” for 5 years straight

Kunimi- mattsun and makki set up a tinder for him as a joke and tried to make it as dark and emo as possible. “Welcome to my twisted mine” Hes surprisingly more popular on it than both of them combined

Futakuchi: hes so BEAUTIFUL and everyone swipes for him. Unfortunately he knows he’s so beautiful and swipes for literally noone because he doesnt believe anyones good enough for him

Bokuto: yeah hes a sweetiepie the second you message him. Seems so pure and honest and HE ISSS. “heyheyhey how are you doing wanna see a picture of a cat i saw today???” SO MUCH ENERGY IN HIS TEXTS and hes so funny too. mwah!!! ✨✨

Akaashi: his bio is “my friends made me make this” but all his pictures point to the evidence that actually, he himself made it, because noone puts that much effort into a bio they didnt want sorry babie

Konoha: pretends he’s a judge on americas next top model and everyone on tinder are the candidates. Never actually talks to people

Ushijima: he has one tinder picture and its just a zoomed up picture half of his face. His bio just says “hello” because he doesnt know wtf hes doing. shiratorizawa’s favourite inside joke

Tendou: definitely has it ironically. All of his pictures are so cryptically edited to the point of no return. “Looking for a queen to send all my memes to”

Semi: he KNOWS how to work tinder. Pictures of his guitar, vinyls, aesthetic pics of him taken at night, the smoothest bio in the game. Only uses it to spread his music. Definitely a pretentious musician but one that EVERYONE wants to hear

Goshiki: “text me first im shy” um what x

Kita: he’s so normal and honestly way too good for tinder. A horrible flirt, really, but its endearing how much he tries. Texts only one person at a time and has trust in everyone so immediately assumes they arent texting anyone else either

Atsumu: “MSBY black jackals 🤩 Wasting no time on anything but the grind 💪🏻 dont swipe if you cant keep up 😤” probably banned for life

Osamu: sends “you up?” texts ALL THE DAMN TIME LIKE OSAMU ITS 6PM OFC IM UP

Suna- hes CLEARLY here to fuck- no more no less. It aint no dating app to him and if you misinterpret all his mixed signals hes definitely gonna make you feel like a desperate idiot and ghost you. Will ruin ur self esteem.

Terushima: the tinder fuckboy. You just KNOW he has tinder and uses it religiously, and honestly- youve probably hooked up before cus he knows how to flirt good

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rywritten · 2 years

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sapnoblade anon here! yeah, that makes sense! i asked mostly cause sapnap is a fav of mine and i enjoy exploring rarepairs (which honestly, is most ships with him). id still love to hear your headcanons! any sap content is good content :)

what a mood.

as an avid sapnap enjoyer myself, im all for writing metas about his character (also dream and techno's as well) so i hope you're ready for the ride bc this is gonna be a long one.

let's talk abt my hc for sapnap as an individual first:

as ive previously stated in my c!technodreamnap ppt presentation, ive characterized him as loyal to a fault. his loyalty is his downfall. once he's included someone on his list of people to protect, he'll do whatever it means in order to fulfill his role as their protector (even if it meant disregarding the needs and protection of others, including himself)

he's also what one would describe as a literal firecracker, in that he's bright, loud, and always buzzing with energy.

the extrovert™

can make friends with anyone. you know those people who can sit with a complete stranger and talk like they've known that person their whole life and its not awkward at all, it's like talking to them is natural bc they make you comfortable? that's sapnap

over protective of his friends, doesn't like it when someone is made the butt of the joke and would probably be the one to stop an entire conversation if he knows it's making one of them uncomfortable.

is pretty chill about most things, unless it's about dream

just the bestest friend anyone could ever hope to wish for

on to the sapnap and techno dynamic you never thought you needed:

they're both petty, like extremely petty when it comes to dream's affection. they are ready to loose face, to do any back handed means, if it means getting on dream's good graces

they are also really competitive, would always try to one up each other when it comes to impressing the object of their affection (in this case, dream)

sap and techno don't get along often bc they have very different personalities that clash and that tends to get messy when the two of them won't back down from an argument, but when they do, they're a deadly pair: they don't like to admit it, but there is mutual respect and when something happens that forces the two of them to work together (ie dream getting hurt) they're probably one of the strongest duo out there

id like add that sap and techno are the true rivals in that they are so equally matched for dream's love and attention and it pisses the both of them to no end

now let's talk dreamnap:

the one thing i will always think about whenever it comes to this ship is how much they know each other.

the very foundation of this ship revolves around their history and friendship. its in the way they are so well in tuned with each other to the point where every breath, every nonverbal queue, the other would make is enough to get their message across. they know each other so well that they could have entire conversations without having to say anything out loud, not to mention the fact that their fighting style and movements are so in sync with each other that it leaves all their enemies defeated, and it's with that knowledge and unparalleled teamwork that makes this ship so interesting

let's get into sap and dream's dynamics a bit more: so we have these two childhood friends, they are both insanely loyal and over protective with each other, and i wholeheartedly believe they would put the other's needs first before anything else. and this fact will lead us into two possible outcomes: where they could either end up having the best childhood friends to lovers ending, or something a lot more heartbreaking...

so a bit of a fact, i tend to avoid the childhood friends to lovers trope when it comes to picking my ships, bc i find it a tad bit boring, but the thing with dreamnap is that they did it right. they didn't go the cinematic route where the two find out they've been harboring feelings for each other and then they magically got together despite all the wrongs and pain they've put each other through, no. what dreamnap did is that they cannot hate each other despite all the awful things: they are mad, hurt, and feel betrayed, but they can never bring their self to hate the other. they still care about it other so deeply that despite the roles they've taken upon (villain and hero, respectively) they still care about each other. and that's amazing.

it's the whole "i know you. ive known you my entire life. ive seen you in your worst but i love you anyway. you've done so much wrong but i cant fault you for all of them. i love you just as much as i hate you. you're everything good in this world. you're all that i have left. i can never leave you. i want to hate you so much for all you've done. but i cant. i can never hate you like that. i want to never see you again, but i still crave for your face–your touch–every single day. you've ruined me just as much as ive ruined you. so let me stay with you forever. i can never let you go." that they have going on, the entire push and pull, the amount of contradiction where they try so hard to leave, only to come back in a heartbeat as soon as they find out the other is hurt or in trouble.

whoever says c!dreamnap is boring and uninteresting clearly needs to get their taste buds checked, bc dreamnap is a fucking five course meal.

im sorry if this got too long.. im not really sure if this was what you were even looking for as an answer, anon. but yeah as you can see, i have a lot to say when it comes to sapnap (and dreamnap lmao)

#ry.plies #anon #ry talks meta #dreamnap #didn't really check if i mistyped anything so if you see a typo pls ignore it

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wrathandgreed · 4 years

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(I hope requests are still open) So ive been thinking. How about the brothers reaction to MC taking a large step away from them when ever one of them raises their hand up. It could be as simple as a high five. MC used to be in a abusive relationship and is paranoid about getting hit

Note: (For the record, I don’t know if you sent me this on purpose - I’ve never done requests; I’ve literally just put out my very first OM headcanons. But I figured I could try. I’ve never been in an abusive relationship, but a number of my friends have. I really hope I can do this one respect - if anything about this is not on the level, please let me know! Also, if I missed a trigger warning in the tags, or tagged this wrong, let me know. Also, for the record, I tend to like soft!Brothers and I really wanted them to try and be better - not put the onus on MC to “get over it” or anything.)

Second note: After writing this, I’m not sure that most of these guys would be a good choice for an abuse survivor!

Third note: I am NOT good at keeping things short and, as usual, I went overboard with Asmodeus. Like, it should be its own fic at this point. But write what you want to read, right?

Warnings: references to domestic abuse, both physical and verbal. References to suicide baiting. Uncensored swearing.

~5K words

Lucifer

A strange choice; his perfectionism and exacting behavior sometimes make you remember how it was back in the human world; everything had to be JUST SO….or else.

And he’s threatened to kill you. Twice.

But there’s something inherently decent about him - and you live for the rare moments he laughs.

His perfectionism usually isn’t even about you, so you just kind of….ignore it.

You’re doing some of your RAD homework in Lucifer’s study.

It’s quiet there.

And, while he won’t do the work for you, he’ll definitely help when you’re stuck.

Also you can give him tea and soothing when he (inevitably) gets upset at his paperwork - Mammon’s bills, Asmo’s bills, Satan’s bills (hey, dark magic books are expensive).

You start hearing the shifting and muttering that herald the beginning of the rant.

You gather the tea and walk towards his desk.

“Devil’s sake!” Lucifer suddenly snaps out, slamming hand on his desk as he reads yet another ridiculous piece of paper.

It’s not at you, the anger isn’t at you, you KNOW it’s not at you, but you freeze anyway.

Slammed hands on desks, punched holes in walls, hands on you, always hands -

The cup of tea hits the floor and you’re out of the room before Lucifer can even look up.

He’s seen it all in your paperwork - the police reports, the restraining order, the lists of injuries - so he puts it all together before his study door closes behind you.

He knows better than to go after you immediately. You’ll want some solitude, some quiet on your own, to steady yourself a little.

If he goes after you now, it might frighten you more. Looks like hunting.

You need to know he’s calm, that he’s not acting or reacting out of emotion.

He takes his time cleaning up the spilled tea, straightening his papers.

When he shows up at your room, he has a mug of hot chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. You made a mess in his study, and he’s such a stickler for everything being neat. He was angry before, but he’ll be even more angry now.

“No, I’m sorry,” he returns, and offers you the chocolate.

(You blink once. Has the Avatar of Pride ever apologized before? If so, it was never in your hearing.)

The two of you talk quietly for a time. He insists that you don’t need to apologize - ever. He insists that, while he appreciates the tea-and-break routine, it’s 100% not your responsibility to control his anger. It’s his. He says that his anger isn’t good for him anyway (just look at Satan) and he needs to take a break when that hot feeling starts.

Maybe he should start scheduling breaks; setting timers on his D.D.D. so that he no longer works long enough at once to let it all get to him.

He doesn’t want you afraid of him.

Mammon

Mammon is pretty much the only demon who HASN’T threatened your life. He often sounds irritated, but he’s never even sounded angry at you.

If anything, he’s a mush and an abuse victim himself. So he gets where you’re coming from, and tries really hard.

So you shouldn’t be afraid of him.

But….he moves too quickly. He’s constantly jumping from one idea to another, one topic to another, one emotion to another. And that’s just emotionally.

You can’t trust where his hands will be. Ever. And that’s not a sex thing.

Sometimes, his protection of you makes you feel safe. If anyone hurts you, Mammon will hurt them a thousand times worse.

He’s funny, and his hands on you are gentle, and once you tell him about your past, he tries really hard not to go back to his “stupid human” habit, because it hurts your feelings.

But sometimes, his protection feels like obsession. Why were you talking to that guy? C’mere, you’re MY human.

Then, inevitably, the tug on your hand or arm or waist, pulling you closer.

It starts simply enough.

You’re playing video games in his room. He’s not as much of a gamer as Levi, but he enjoys them.

Especially ones where you can be competitive or drive cars really fast.

He’s been getting more and more excited, coiled like a spring. And it’s from enjoyment, not anger, but that level of energy, in your experience, explodes at some point.

You get quieter, but that only makes him more boisterous. He wants you to join in the fun! C’mon MC, did you see that?! It was awesome!

After a really impressive win, he shouts in triumph and suddenly his hand is in front of your face for a high-five.

You recoil and hit the floor, crab-crawling backwards before you can stop yourself.

His look of complete confusion, in different circumstances, might be funny. He actually looks at his hand like he doesn’t recognize it.

He drops to the floor too, “Babe? What’s wrong? Y’okay?” And he reaches out a hand towards you.

When you flinch, he gets it.

He sits on the floor, stuttering out apologies, not even finishing one sentence before starting another. He makes sure he’s cross-legged, leaning back on his hands - non threatening, leaning away, hands not hidden, but not prominent, and in a position it would take him time to move from.

When you start crying, he can’t maintain that pose and crawls towards you, pulling you into a hug.

If you resist, you know he’ll let you go. And that’s why you just curl into him instead, crying out on his shoulder while he holds you close - but not tightly.

“I jus’ need ya to talk to me….let me know if I’m gettin’ to be too much. I know I’m loud. Just….. jus’ remind me, I’ll never be mad.”

Leviathan

Boy already has anger problems.

Envy’s kind of prone to it, you know?

On the one hand, he literally attacked you over a piece of TSL memorabilia.

On the other, he’s generally harmless the rest of the time.

He’s meek and shy and terrified of touching you - so, 95% of the time, you feel super safe with him.

When you wake with a nightmare, when something jump-starts your fear response, he talks you through it, easily abandoning whatever game or anime he’s involved in.

He’ll only touch you when you ask, or when you reach for him first.

But then there’s the MMOs.

You know you should leave when he starts getting mad. Not in a victim-blame sense, but for your own mental health it’s probably not a good idea to be around him when he raids.

He ALWAYS gets mad.

You’re sitting in his room, so involved in your handheld that you forget it’s his raiding night.

(Usually you make study plans with Satan, or shopping plans with Asmo on his raiding nights. You don’t want him to give them up; he enjoys them, but it’s not good for you to be around.)

After finally completing a tough level, you pop your headphones off just in time to hear Levi swear loudly.

You go still as a string of swear-filled trash talk fills the room. Things you’d never expect shy, needy Levi to say.

You know it really is just trash-talk - the threats of violence are just too absurd. Rip off their arms and use their own fingers to bowl their skull like a bowling ball? Really?

Also this is LEVI. Levi? The demon who needed you to taunt Mammon about his credit card because he couldn’t do it himself? He might be Admiral of Hell’s Navy and all, but he’s not exactly threatening.

You get to your feet, a little shaken but ready to just walk out of the room. It’s raid night, and this is why you don’t hang out on raid nights. You’re not comfortable around other people’s anger.

You’re halfway across the room when Levi suddenly shouts in frustration and throws his controller on the floor.

And you’re out the door.

Levi just glimpses you as he’s reaching to pick up his miraculously-unshattered controller from the floor.

“Henry?” He calls out, just a second too late.

With only one moment of hesitation, he logs out of his raid and goes to follow you.

You had less than ten seconds head start, but it takes him almost twenty minutes to find you, sitting out in the garden, gazing at nothing.

“MC?” He calls quietly. He doesn’t want to sneak up on you.

A single blink, and the tiniest flash of fear - he left his game to follow you.

Calculation: extreme concern - or extreme anger.

Conclusion: Undetermined.

So you wait.

“Are you ok?”

Okay, so not mad. “Aren’t you raiding?” You ask, instead of answering. You’re not ok, but you’re also not in the mood to talk about it.

“I, uh, h-had a, uh, power outage?” Even he doesn’t sound convinced, and you snort. Levi only has three modes: simple, stuttering, and verbose. Thankfully he goes with simple. “You ran out. I was worried.”

You debate brushing his concern off, but he deserves better than that.

“I’m not good with anger. Even if it’s not directed at me.”

“Oh.” Levi pauses as he considers. He knows the basics of what’s happened. “I - I mean, I could, you know, NOT - “

“No,” you say quickly and lean in to kiss his cheek. “You don’t have to change anything. Do your raids, make stupid threats to stupid players. Just….warn me to leave first?”

Levi nods, but he skips the rest of his raid to stargaze with you in the garden, arms wrapped around you from behind as he points out different Devildom stars and constellations to you. You get a lecture on how Devildom stars are used in Devildom sailing. It’s actually kind of interesting.

Satan

Okay, seriously? The Avatar of Wrath? Author speaking here, I literally can’t picture a worse combination than an MC who’s still recovering from domestic abuse to date the AVATAR OF WRATH.

Like, yeah, he has good control over himself, but he also loses his temper in a moment’s notice.

He has CANONICALLY tortured people for calling him strange.

He flips out with no warning and destroys parts of the house and his brothers just let him do it because he’s too powerful to control when he rages.

I can absolutely see MC falling for the quiet intelligence, the consideration, and so forth, but witnessing one (1) single rage should be enough to tell them that this relationship won’t be good for their mental health.

Let’s not even talk about the (again, canonical) desire for domination, power play, pet play, etc, that kind of defines our boy.

I mean, I love Satan. Out of all the bros, he’s the only one I could imagine legit dating in real life.

But I’m a little ball of rage myself, and I have no problem with anger, mine or anyone else’s.

And the fandom (including me) can totally play cute and love on their “soft little angy boi” all they want, and he definitely has soft, sensitive sides, and I may actively choose to ignore the whole domination/power play/etc when I fic or headcanon because I really love soft!Satan….. but he’s not.

I can’t even make a headcanon, because I cannot picture a situation in which this is actually GOOD for MC.

Because no matter how hard he’ll try and control it, and how much his rage probably won’t be directed at them, I just keep picturing “It won’t happen again” except it will, and it’ll just wind up being flashbacks to the number of times “It won’t happen again” ended in black eyes or an ER visit back in the human world.

And MC walking on eggshells for eternity to avoid setting him off, and how is that healthy?

Asmodeus

Another decent choice for MC, at least on the surface.

King of consent over here, at least how I picture him. Especially for someone he cares about.

Always accepts “no” about literally anything. Don’t want sex? We’ll cuddle. Cuddling a little confining? Holding hands is cool. Really don’t want to be touched at all right now? Gossip and tea!

You were coming to really care about the Avatar of Lust, and you believed what Simeon said about him - how much he desperately needed love and affection. You got it; you needed some, too.

I mean, even if he’d been a bit of a jerk, he’d warmed up significantly since the pact, so new that it still burned on your skin, was formed.

But even Asmodeus wasn’t without faults. However much he focuses on love, he can sometimes, really be….mean.

You’re standing on a balcony in Diavolo’s castle, having escaped for a few moments.

He’d always been catty, gossipy, filled with drama, but the genuine affection and likability of him sometimes made you ignore it.

His constant mocking of Luke you could put down to the whole angel/demon conflict.

His occasional snapping or poking at his brothers you could put down to being stuck in the same house with the same people for literal eons.

The only thing that might make up for your awful existence is if you just ended it.

The words haunt you as you stand looking up at Devildom’s endless nighttime.

How many times did you hear similar words yourself? How useless you were, how much of a burden, no way you’d survive on your own without him, and he didn’t even want you that much. Why didn’t you just go kill yourself?

Dammit, you think to yourself as Asmo steps out on to the balcony.

“Darling! Why are you out here all alone? Or are you waiting for some company?”

When he goes to put his arms around you, you just say “no.” Simply, quietly, emotionlessly.

Asmo circles around to look at you. “Something wrong, sweetness?”

You take a breath. Another. You consider swallowing it, again, don’t want to start a fight. Back down, put on a smile, ignore it.

But realize you can’t. You spent years dealing with this crap, and you’re not going to do it again.

“You’re mean, Azzy.” Your voice is quieter than you expected. You look up into the demon’s eyes. To his credit, he looks deeply confused and, as you take a step away from him, hurt. Before he can open his mouth, you continue, “How could you say that to Mammon?”

“Are you defending MAMMON?” He asks, torn between incredulity and anger.

“Right now? Yes. But also Luke, Lucifer, and everyone else you talk shit to. Or about. He’s your brother. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to hear that out of someone you love?”

Dismissively, “Oh, if it actually bothered him, he’d - “

“What? Beat you up? That’s not like him. So he takes it. And takes it, and takes it, until, because it’s all he hears, he believes it. And then why fight back? Why defend yourself, if you’re such a piece of shit? You deserve it, after all, right?”

You don’t even realize it, but you’re crying by this point. And you’re mad. All the mad you couldn’t fling at your abuser before is filling you now. You don’t even know if you’re talking about Mammon or yourself anymore. Maybe both of you.

“And even though he’s beaten down, you keep going. When he won’t respond to the usual anymore, when that doesn’t seem to hurt him, rile him up, you go worse. You told your brother, who you claim to love, to kill himself. We’re barely even friends. So what happens when I annoy you? Should I just go die now, save you the trouble of telling me to do it later?”

You step right up to him, into his personal space, almost nose to nose, and stare directly into his red-yellow eyes. “Is this who you are, Asmodeus?”

Asmo has gone from defensive; incredulous and angry, to baffled, hurt and worried in just a few minutes. But at your last, pointed question, he jerks his head back as though you slapped him. Not knowing what to say or do, he reaches for you again, but you dodge his hand and brush past him back into the castle.

You get Solomon, the only one who won’t ask questions, to switch rooms with you. (Luke is thrilled; teaching him to play gin rummy actually cheers you up a little.)

For a few weeks, you and Asmodeus pass each other in the House without speaking. Then, one evening, there’s a knock on your door and Asmo slides into your room.

He looks….well, not awful; he could never look awful. But the glow is gone from his skin and, unless you’re mistaken, he hasn’t bothered doing his hair. He looks like he’s missed some sleep.

You look up from your homework and watch him. Silently. It’s not your job to fill the silence anymore.

More than most of them, Asmo despises being vulnerable. But it’s fix this or not, and the pact is pushing him to be on good terms. At least, he blames the pact. It’s easier than acknowledging how much the weeks of silence have worn on him. How awful it was watching you walk to class with Mammon instead of him.

And no matter what, he values honesty in his relationships, no matter what kind of relationship. So he would be honest.

“I don’t know,” he says quietly.

Lean back in your chair, hands folded. Waiting.

“I don’t know….if that’s who I am. Maybe it is.”

“Why are you here, Asmo? What do you want?”

“I want you to stop ignoring me!”

Steady face. “I spent too many years having someone talk to me the way you spoke to your brother. The rest of it - the gossip, the side comments, the cattiness…. it’s not your best side. In fact, it’s pretty unattractive when it’s mean, but I could handle it. But I can’t handle cruelty. I don’t want to be around it anymore.”

A pause. “What is my best side then?”

Disgusted, you chuck a pen in his direction. “Fuck’s sake, Asmo. Get out.”

“No! Not, not that. If that’s my bad side, the **unattractive** part, then what’s the other half?”

You search his face, but he doesn’t seem to be fishing for compliments. If anything, he looks….lost. Confused. And you wonder if anyone’s ever said anything to him, good or bad, about who he was; not what he looked like or how he fucked.

It’s not your responsibility to psychoanalyze a demon, you think to yourself. But you’re not someone to walk away. You wonder how it’s possible for someone to be thousands of years old, and know less about themselves than you know about yourself in just a few decades. And you have nothing to lose by being kind.

“You can be wonderfully kind, Asmo, and generous. You want to see the beauty in everyone and everything. As nasty as you can be with it, I’ll give you points for honesty. You connect with people, and the times you’re actually genuinely interested in them is….charming.”

He’s silent for a few minutes. Then he nods, as if he’s made a decision. “Okay. Tomorrow, after RAD, do you want to go for bubble tea?” At your confusion, he just smiles and continues, “It’s like skin care, isn’t it? Attractiveness requires effort, darling, until it becomes habit. If I want to be attractive inside as well as out, I’ll have to practice the good things, so they outweigh the bad. I can’t do that alone. I need a practice partner who won’t tolerate failure, right? At least until it’s habit.”

You feel your entire brain have to reboot before you can give a coherent response.

“Tomorrow. One hour. I have papers due.” You wait until he leaves your room before you smile.

Beelzebub

Probably the best choice for this MC.

The most emotionally intelligent of his brothers.

Also the most sincerely kind and gentle.

But also, like Satan, prone to sudden outbursts and rages. They’re all food-related (or, rather, lack-of-food-related), but they’re there.

A smart MC always carries snacks while dating Beel. Phone, wallet, keys, fried bat wings.

Strangely, though, the food-induced rages don’t really bother you. It’s not anger, really, and it’s never once been directed at you. And, unlike back in the human world, there’s a concrete way to help: feed him.

Today you have a whole backpack full of snacks.

You’re with Belphie, watching one of Beel’s games at RAD.

(You’re not sure Belphie wants to be there, but you’re not allowed out alone, and Belphie decided to take you - keep you safe and support his brother. Two birds, one Belphie.)

Belphie tends to nap against your shoulder any time the ref goes to make a call, but he’s somehow always awake to clap for his brother.

(You stand on your chair and cheer, but that’s you.)

The game is a close one; double overtime. Even Belphie is too tense to sleep towards the end.

And at the end of double overtime, Beel manages the single extra goal that results in victory.

You cheer yourself hoarse for your demon boyfriend.

The whole stadium is crazy, so you hang back and wait. Belphie hates crowds and you’re not keen on them yourself. It’s going to take awhile for Beel to make it through the crowd to you anyway.

You’re standing in the aisle, scrolling through your phone, when suddenly there’s a loud shout and arms wrap around you from behind and lift you up.

You gasp, and your scream strangles in your throat so what comes out of you is nothing more than a squeak. Your phone goes flying.

You’re frozen for a moment as panic surges. You want to fight and you’re fighting your own brain to push the panic into your limbs so you can fight for yourself.

You vaguely feel a tugging and you hear someone - Belphie? - insisting that you be put down and then your feet are on the ground but there’s no such thing as your legs and you start to fall before the same arms help you gently sit. The ground is gross, but you’ll only care about the damage to your skirt later.

Everything is fuzzy and confusing; you’re not even sure of what you’re looking at until your vision is filled with blue and violet.

You know that swirl of color. That’s a SAFE color, and you start feeling your poor brain start to work again.

You blink into your boyfriend’s blue-violet eyes; you realize he’s cupping your face with his hands and the weird underwater noises start to sound like his voice. You realize, very belatedly, that what probably happened was Beel lifting you up in a victory hug.

“M’okay,” you say, but it sounds robotic. It takes a few more seconds - you don’t know how many - for all of your senses and brain to actually begin working in sync again. You start hearing the sounds of the crowd departing the stadium, and you hear Beel continuing to say your name and trying to get you to answer questions. You almost smile; but smiling wouldn’t make any sense.

“I’m okay,” you say, and you must sound a little more convincing this time because Beel looks relieved. He shoots a few more questions at you, and you realize they’re the kinds of questions people get asked when someone thinks they have a concussion or head trauma.

Your answers satisfy him, so Beel helps you to your feet.

“What was that?” He asks. “Low blood sugar? Are you hungry?”

You have to smile at his very-typical diagnosis. A little sugar wouldn’t hurt, though. For some reason, eating grounds you after something like this. You dig a chocolate bar out of your Backpack of Snacks (Snackpack?) and hand the rest to him.

He impatiently takes a bag of chips out of it but doesn’t open it. He looks at you expectantly and you realize he won’t eat until you do. So you take a bite of the chocolate and he looks more relieved.

“So what the fuck WAS that?” Belphie asks as the three of you move towards the exit.

“Later.” You haven’t yet found a reason to really tell Beel (and, by extension, Belphegor) about everything. You do later that night.

Beel swears he’ll never surprise you like that again. He’s a lot more cautious about touching you for a few days, but eventually things go back to normal between you.

Belphegor

Author note: Dude fucking murdered you, deliberately, in cold blood, and taunted you for your gentleness and desire to help as you died. But let’s say you can get past that - or try to. Probably the second-worst choice, after Satan, for this reason.

You started dating Belphie for the strangest reason: you could trash-talk the shit out of him.

He kept trying to be around you after you made the pact (which, let’s face it, you made so you could MAKE SURE he never hurt you again). Until, after politely dodging him wasn’t working, you told him to take his emo-boy routine and fuck off somewhere else.

You flinched, waiting for retaliation, but he just blinked at you and told you to stop being a brat.

And he was smiling.

But it wasn’t a mean smile - it was a smile that shared the joke.

Your lips quivered into a returning smile, and you threw another insult at him.

He topped it, and hurled one back.

Before you knew it, the two of you were screaming obscenities at each other in the middle of the common room and laughing like hyenas.

For some reason, Belphie calling you a dumb bitch wasn’t an insult. It was a mark of endearment. And it didn’t hurt your feelings or make you afraid.

It was empowering to call him a dickhead if he did something you didn’t like and have him simply laugh and amend his behavior. Nothing bothered him.

He didn’t move quickly; in fact he didn’t move at all if he could help it.

But you would remember, sometimes, the way his hands felt on your throat, or how cold his eyes had been. And you couldn’t say it was a momentary madness, because he’d planned it. He’d been imprisoned because he wanted to kill humanity.

You put it out of your mind. It was something you were good at, after all.

Until the two of you sat down to watch a movie one evening. A simple plot hole sparked a discussion that wound up being….not an argument, but definitely a difference of opinion.

As usual, insults were flying fast and furious when suddenly Belphie laughed and smacked you with his pillow.

It wasn’t an angry move, and it wasn’t hard enough to hurt. It wasn’t a hard blow at all! But the surprise had you falling back on the couch. And the fear had you curling into a ball, arms wrapped around your head protectively, legs curled up to guard your middle.

There is dead silence.

“Hey, Brat?” Belphie asks. When you don’t answer, he calls your name instead.

You slowly, very slowly, begin to uncurl yourself from your position. It takes time for the residual fear to leave, but enough is gone to leave room for embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you mutter.

“I get it,” is the answer.

Cue awkward silence.

“I figured you were still afraid of me.”

“I’m not!” When he just stares blandly at you, you sigh. “Okay, a little. If you wanted to hurt me - again - you’ve had a ton of opportunities. So I don’t think you want to. But…..”

“It’s a hard thing to get over.”

“Yeah. And not just you.” Hesitantly, you start to tell him. You want to just give him the basics, but once you start talking, you can’t seem to stop. He doesn’t interrupt, barely seems to blink, just watches you. A blank vessel to help you empty the poison that fills you sometimes.

You see his jaw tighten as you go on, but you know the anger isn’t at you.

When you finish, he’s silent for a few moments. Then he gathers you up to him. “I’ll never hurt you,” he says.

You look up at him with the same bland look he gave you a moment ago.

“Again,” he amends. “I’ll never hurt you again.”

You let out a watery laugh and he hugs you a bit tighter.

“You’re still a brat, though.”

609 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

hello loves!! thank you so much for the feedbacks on the previous part, i love to see your thoughts at reactions so please keep them coming for the upcoming parts as well! i was informed that the posts weren’t showing up under the hashtags bc i had an extrernal link to the spotify playlist, so that won’t be available in the next parts, but you’ll always be able to find it in the masterpost if you’d like to give it a listen! those were the songs i listened to while writing the story! now, i dont want to keep you up any longer, here is part 4, one of my personal favs, and im excitedly waiting for your feedbacks on the post! have a wonderful reading!

word count: 4.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

Valerie is curiously watching her dad work on the portable bed they’ve brought over for the night, her little hands clutching onto Rosa’s shirt as she is telling you all about the list she has made for you. It’s not a long one, but you try to focus on every word she says, making sure you won’t mess anything up.

“I put an X behind the important ones,” she explains pointing at the paper and you nod, eyes roaming down on the few X’s on the list. “The other ones are just suggestions, things I thought you should know.

“Got it,” you nod again, biting into your bottom lip. Bath time, feeding, sleep time, everything is covered in the list and you’re happy she even mentioned the smallest details. Some things might be natural for her as she’s been doing it for months, but it’s your first time completely alone with a baby. You surely don’t want to mess this up, especially because you want her to trust you and let you look after Valerie more often. They deserve a break now and then.

Steven finishes the bed and backs out a few stuffed animals along with two blankets into it, making it look cozy and familiar for Val.

“But most importantly,” Rosa starts and you look her in the eyes. “Call us anytime if you need help or want us to take her home, and I mean it.”

“Not gonna happen,” you shake your head, earning a sigh from your sister.

“Y/N, I’m serious. We are thankful for the help, but it’s not your duty, alright? Just call us anytime, really.”

Nodding your head you flash a smile at her, knowing well nothing on Earth is gonna make you call them tonight. Okay, maybe there are some cases when you would call, but those are quite unlikely to happen.

She hands Valerie over who curiously eyes you before grabbing a handful of your shirt and making herself busy with the fabric.

“It’s gonna be fine. Have a great night, you deserve it,” you smile at them. Steven straightens up and curls an arm around Rosa’s waist as they watch Val in awe, clearly a little worried they are gonna spend an entire night without her, but you can tell they also can’t wait for some alone time.

“Alright, we should get going,” Rosa sighs and stepping closer she kisses Valerie’s head and then your cheek as well. “Have fun with your aunty! We’ll be back for you in the morning, Sweetie.”

She runs her hand over her little head and Valerie smiles at her happily, completely oblivious to what’s really happening. The joys of being just a baby!

Steven says goodbye to her as well and you all head to the door.

“So, we’ll be here around eight, she is usually up by six. Do you want us to pick her up sooner?” Rosa asks standing at the front door.

“Sooner? I was about to tell you to sleep a little longer, you don’t have to come so early.”

“But we don’t want to take away your whole day, you need to rest too,” Steven explains, worry all over his face.

“Stop worrying about me, I’ll be fine. Just enjoy your night off! Come on, I’m throwing you guys out, time for the sleepover to start,” you tell them, shushing them out the door.

It takes some time to finally get them to leave, but they eventually do. Then it’s just the two of you, alone for the first time.

“Ready for your first sleepover, Val?” you ask her, standing in the hallway of your apartment. She just stares back at you, saliva drooling from her mouth but even that looks cute on her. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You braced yourself for the worst. Thought about all the possibilities how the evening would go, but you hoped they wouldn't become reality. Unfortunately, baby Valerie had different plans for the two of you.

The first hour goes by fine. You feed her, have a little play time, reading her favorite book to her, but slowly, you notice her losing interest in anything and everything. Soon enough, you see her face distort into a grimace and a few moments later she starts crying and it’s straight downhill from there.

Nothing can get her to stop. No food, no toy, absolutely nothing. You clown around, trying everything that pops into your mind that would calm her down, but it doesn’t seem like she is about to stop anytime soon.

You start to panic. Rosa told you how fussy she is because of her teeth coming, but you didn’t think it would be this bad. When she’s been crying for an entire hour straight, for a split second, you think about calling Rosa.

“No, not gonna do that,” you say, while Val is still screaming in your arms. “Valerie, what do you want? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, I promise! Just please stop crying!” you whine desperately, but, no surprise, no answer comes from the screaming babe in your arms, just more tears, puffy eyes and red cheeks from all the crying she’s been doing.

Trying to rock her into calmness you are moving around in the apartment when you hear your phone ringing. You instantly think it’s gonna be Rosa, wanting to check in on you, but how are you gonna answer the call when Valeries is screaming from the top of her lungs? She’ll come to pick her up straight away, no doubt about that.

Rushing into the kitchen you are relieved to see that it’s just Harry calling you.

“It’s not the best of times, Styles,” you sigh as you answer the call and put him on the speaker, leaving the phone on the countertop, so you have both your hands free for Valerie.

“Hey, I was just-- what the fuck is happening?” he asks hearing the deadly cries of Val through the line. “Is that Valerie?”

“It is! I’m looking after her so Rosa and Steven can celebrate their anniversary, but she just wouldn’t stop crying! I don’t know what to do!”

You’re absolutely desperate. It’s so bad you can feel your throat closing up, nearing the edge of your patience, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, but you tell yourself only one of you can cry at a time and Val has taken that spot quite some time ago, not even giving you a moment to let loose.

“Text me your address, I’m leaving now,” he orders and you snap your head towards the phone.

“What? No, Harry--”

“Just text me the damn address, Y/N!” he barks and the line cuts off right away.

Your desperation pairs with shock now, not knowing what to think about this short, but quite eventful conversation you just had with him. It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, but you end up sending him your address.

Nothing changes in the twenty minutes while you are waiting to hear anything from Harry following your text to him. Valerie keeps crying with three seconds of pauses when she takes a few deep breaths only to start screaming once again. Aside from the headache she is causing you, it’s becoming pretty impressive how long she’s been doing it. You probably would have fainted by now, but it seems like Valerie is running on an endless battery.

“You are really making it hard for me to be a cool aunt, Val,” you mumble, the baby still in your arms as the tears keep rolling down her face. Your light grey shirt is now soaking wet, both from her tears and your sweat from the anxiety she is giving you, mixed with some other things you choose to ignore where they came from.

The doorbell makes you jump, but Valerie doesn’t even bat an eye at the sound, she just keeps going.

“You need to teach me how to have this much energy,” you mumble under your breath as you walk over to the door.

Opening it you find yourself staring up at Harry who is wearing a brown coat, dark jeans and a black hoodie. If you had to guess what he was doing on this weekend evening you would have said he was out with friends somewhere, picking up girls, but he surely doesn’t look like he was anywhere else than his home, the clothes are hanging messily on his frame, like he just threw them on in a rush.

His green eyes look straight at you at first before moving over to the crying child in your arms. You fully expect him to say something along the lines of “this is the kind of effect you have on others” comment, but it seems like he notices the fear and despair in your eyes and he keeps his mouth shut.

“I honestly have no idea what to do,” you choke out and the tears start flowing from your eyes as well, making Harry have to deal with now two crying human beings.

“Oh my, please don’t cry, I can’t take two crying women at once,” Harry begs as he steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Turning to face you he reaches for Valerie, you hand her over to him, hoping she would magically stop the crying, but she clearly couldn’t care less.

“Why, can you take one?” you ask with a bitter chuckle as you wipe your cheeks.

“Not really,” he admits, making you smile. “So what have you tried?” he asks as he starts swaying and rocking Valerie in hopes of getting her to stop, but not even Harry’s charm stands a chance with her right now. Deep down you’re happy you weren’t the reason she got so fussy and upset, would have been pretty awkward if she stopped the moment Harry took her into his arms.

“Literally everything,” you huff, shoulders falling forward. “I went over the list Rosa gave me, tried everything, but she wouldn’t stop. She’s teething, but this is… It seems like there might be something else maybe?” you tell him worried that something serious might be behind her behavior. You really don��t want to call and bother Rosa, but you are nearing the point where you’ll give up and ask for help.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

Valerie stops for a moment, her hiccups shaking through her body as her tear-filled eyes look up to Harry, and you both think this is gonna be the moment when she finally calms down, but he doesn’t even reach the chorus before she starts crying again, a defeated sigh erupting from him.

“Maybe she wants it instrumental,” you suggest and Harry gives you one of those ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ looks as you leave to run down the hallway, right into your bedroom.

“How am I supposed to make it instru-- what the hell, Y/N?!” He gives you a weirded out look when you return with a guitar in your hands. “Since when do you play the guitar?”

“Since like… eighth grade,” you tell him as you sit on the couch and holding the guitar on your lap you try to find the right accords. “I told you, you know nothing about me.”

Harry nods with a surprised but amazed look on his face as your fingers strum against the chords. It takes a few minutes but you figure it out and glancing up you give a questioning look to Harry.

“From the start?” you ask and he nods his head, continuously bouncing up and down to try to calm Val down.

You start playing the song and soon enough Harry joins you with the singing, the two of you perfectly nailing it even without any practice.

“Stop makin’ a fool out of me, why don’t you come on over, Valerie?”

Maybe it’s the guitar, maybe it’s the singing or maybe the fact that the song has her name in it, but by the time you reach the halfway point in the song Valerie’s crying slowly starts to fade. You instantly share a look with Harry, but don’t stop, fearing that she might start again if the music stops.

Her tear soaked cheeks smooth out as she is not screaming anymore and you can actually see her irises finally, her long lashes are sticking together from the salty tears and you know it’s gonna take some time for her to regain her normal state, but at least the crying has stopped.

“‘Cause since I’ve come on home, well, my body’s been a mess. And I’ve missed your ginger hair and the way you like to dress…”

You tear your eyes off Valerie for a second, letting yourself wander over Harry’s features as he sings. He slightly furrows his eyebrows focusing on the lines, so his forehead has a few creases on it. His lips form the words so clearly and elegantly, you wonder how often he sings. Is it something he only does when he is on his own or he likes to perform as well?

The only time when you heard him sing was at the bar when the two of you slayed the karaoke machine with that Avril Lavigne song. You were smashed by then, you remember that he had a nice voice but it was the last thing you paid attention to. Besides, he was kind of equally drunk as you, it was all for just fun, but now is a completely different situation.

It’s no surprise Valerie finds his voice soothing, you’d probably stop whatever you were doing if you heard him sing. There are people with a good voice and then there are the ones that not just have a good voice but also that small something, that extra magic in them that makes you melt as their voice caress your ears. Harry is definitely the second case, for a moment you forget where you are or why he is there singing. It’s just his voice and the gentle strumming of your fingers on the chords.

At the end of the song he starts repeating Valerie as the song slowly fades into nothing and you both stare at the little girl in his arms, clearly afraid she might start crying again. Unfortunately, your reservations become valid when you see the corners of her mouth curls down and you and Harry share a shocked look immediately.

“What else can you play?” he urges as Val whimpers in his arms, letting you know she does not appreciate that the singing has stopped.

“Shit, shit! Um, something from ABBA?” you propose and Harry nods quickly, not even asking which song you know, so you take it as a sign that he probably knows all of them.

The first song that comes to your mind is Andante, Andante and you don’t hesitate to start playing again, just in time. Valerie was just about to start crying again, but as soon as the melody hit her little ears she calmed down and listened to it with tired looking eyes.

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze…” Harry sings the words and you can’t hold a smile back as he, once again, hits the notes just perfectly without missing a beat.

You’re convinced there’s not one person on Earth who has never heard a single Abba song, most of the population knows them by heart, but somehow you couldn’t really imagine Harry to be a person who knows the lyrics to the songs as well. But he does and sings it without messing it up even just once. It’s hard to imagine a younger version of Harry singing ABBA songs when they come on the radio, but the more you think about it the more the picture paints itself in your mind.

Valerie lays her head to Harry’s chest, stuffing her thumb into her mouth as she listens to the performance. She is probably enjoying the vibrance of his voice shaking through his chest and maybe this is what brings her the peace she’s been looking for all this time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of them.

Harry glances at you, eyes so soft you melt under his gaze. However nerve wrecking it was to have Valerie scream for hours, she is still the cutest little thing ever as she rests her head on his chest, her long blinks giving it away she has definitely lost most of her energy.

You don’t dare to stop the singing and playing. When you near the end of a song you quickly think of something else and whisper it over to Harry, who then gives his feedback on it with either a nod or a shake of his head. Most of the time he knows the songs you suggest so the show continues without a stop.

Half an hour passes by when you see her eyes slowly closing. You still don’t stop though, only when Harry tries to listen to her breathing and he realizes that it was completely slowed down. She is out.

“Holy shit,” you breathe out quietly, your fingers feeling numb from the playing. You haven’t had a guitar in your hands for this long in a while, probably for years. Harry shares your relief, his throat has completely dried out and he is happy to finally breathe evenly, not just sneak a few breaths in between lines.

“And now what?” he mouths as he is still gently swaying around with the sleeping Valerie in his arms. You put the guitar aside and check if she is for real asleep. Her long lashes are spread out on her puffy cheeks, gently snoozing into Harry’s chest as if she weren’t screaming for dear life just an hour ago.

“Let’s put her down,” you whisper and nod at him to follow you.

Reaching your bedroom you only switch your bedside lamp on so the light doesn’t wake her up. Pushing the stuffed animals to the side you grab the blankets and let Harry do the critical job. Leaning down he oh so slowly starts to pull her away from his chest, careful not to move too suddenly, it all feels like in those action movies when they are trying to get through the lasers without triggering the alarm. One bad move and the screaming threatens to start again and that’s the last thing you want, after all you’ve done to calm her down.

You don’t even realize it but as you watch her little head reach the mattress you hold your breath, almost wincing upon seeing Harry’s hands slide out from under her sleeping frame. As if you wait for something to go wrong, both of you freeze for a moment, expecting her to start moving around and wake up, but she stays still.

Eyes snapping up to Harry, you exchange a look and then you both head to the door, careful not to make any noise that can possibly shake Valerie up from her dreams.

“This was more tiring than running a marathon,” he huffs, throwing himself to the couch and you do the same next to him.

“Have you ever run a marathon?”

“No,” he confidently answers and you look over at him with a puzzled look. “But I can imagine how tiring it is.”

You let out a chuckle, letting your eyes close for just a little bit. You haven’t even had the chance to realize how much this whole struggle with Val sucked the energy out of you, but now that you’re half lying on the couch it hits you all at once.

“I should get going,” you hear Harry mumble, clearly just as tired as you are, but he doesn’t move.

“Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself drift to sleep.

Neither of you moves and it doesn’t take a whole five minutes for the both of you to completely doze off.

The next time you wake up you feel an arm curled around your waist and someone is definitely pressed up against you while your back is against the back of the couch. It takes you a couple of moments and some blinking to realize it’s Harry you are all snuggled up to and the reason why you woke up is because Valerie is crying again.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself, mind still groggy from the sleep as you push yourself up on the couch. Just moments later Harry’s eyes flush open and you’re not sure it’s because of the crying or because you moved next to him. His arm slides off you as he looks around a little confused about his surroundings.

You don’t have the chance to think about how the two of you ended up cuddling on the couch, though it lingers in the back of your mind. Basically crawling over Harry you rush into your bedroom where Valerie is lying in her bed crying. It’s a different kind of cry, not like the one you were stuck with for hours before and you know she must be hungry.

“Ah, come on, little girl. It’s alright,” you coo at her scooping her into your arms. She immediately cuddles to your chest hiccupping against it, her little hands fisting your shirt. You leave to go to the kitchen and feed her, but just as you’re about to step out of the room you bump into Harry.

You bounce back from his chest, but his hand immediately reaches for you and grabs your arm, holding you in case you might fall back.

“Sorry,” you breathe out, thoughts still foggy a little. “She’s… hungry,” you explain, but he is standing so close to you, you can feel his body’s warmth and it instantly ignites the memory of being pressed against his side on the couch just moments ago and you can’t stop yourself from inhaling a shaky breath.

“Let me help,” he croaks out and the two of you walk into the kitchen. Putting on her bib you hand her over to Harry who sits with her on his lap on a stoop as you get the baby food, warm it a little before joining the two of them and you slowly start feeding her.

“What time is it?” you ask realizing you have no idea how long you two have been asleep on the couch.

“It’s three am,” Harry answers before smiling down at Val. “Good job, Val!” he hums watching her take the spoon into her mouth.

You finish up feeding her, then give a try at burping her even though Rosa said it’s not necessary anymore. She just hums to herself so you head back to the bedroom, her eyes already threatening to close. By the time you put her back to the bed she is out again, so no private show is needed this time.

Walking out of the room you see Harry putting on his shoes and coat. For a split second you feel disappointed that he is leaving, but then your rational side puts you to your place. Of course he is leaving! Val is fine now, there’s no other reason for him to stay, right?

“Harry,” you softly say and he looks at you. “Can you please not tell Rosa and Steven that I needed help with Val?” you quietly ask, though there’s no doubt your eyes are practically begging him.

“No way I’ll ever admit to Steven that I sang ABBA to his child, so don’t worry about it,” he chuckles making you smile as well.

“Thank you. And for helping me as well. I was really close to giving it up,” you admit folding your arms on your chest as Harry stands at the front door, hand on the door knob as he is looking back at you.

“No problem. Now you owe me one,” he smirks and you can’t hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

“Sure,” you say with an airy chuckle. “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he smiles at you sweetly before opening the door and walking out.

You take his place at the door and watch him walk down the eerily quiet hallway. He turns back to you one last time waving in your way and you nod back smiling before he disappears around the corner.

Closing the door you lean your back against it, taking a deep breath. Your eyes wander over to the couch where you and Harry were sleeping not so long ago. The feeling of his arm around you is still burned into your mind and you breathe in shakily as a memory snaps into your head of the exact same thing, only years earlier.

You lied almost exactly like that in his hotel room that night. His strong arms wrapped around you as you had your head laid on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was slightly faster than the normal. Though you were still quite drunk, this feeling imprinted into your memories, because you felt so safe with him. Like nothing could ever hurt you if he was there with you.

Unfortunately, that feeling faded into nothing when you woke up in the morning quite fast. But this time, instead of disappointment and disgust, the only thing you still feel is the emptiness at the lack of his touch.

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shadowfae · 3 years

Note

hiii! so a friend directed me here and i was wondering if u cld share abt how you found out you were godkin? only if youre comfy! because ive kinda had like. how do i word this. Vibes or Feels that kinda direct me towards the whole i might be a god of sorts kinda thing ? if you have resources and dont mind helping,, please direct me to them :D ~ @missing-crown

I want to start this essay off by saying flat out: wars have been fought, genocides have been committed, and empires have risen and fallen trying to answer the simple questions of “What is deification, and how do we incarnate and control it?”.

If you do not think you’re up the challenge of answering that question for yourself, even with years of study and slow training to take up the mantle of literally being the most powerful form of the Chosen One trope, then you’re probably in the wrong place. I say this as someone who is deific down to the blood and bone, as someone who has looked for other gods, and largely found very little in the way of anyone who understands anything like my experience. In this way, I am utterly alone, and I detest it, but if me penning these words gives someone else the gospel they need to explain themselves in a way I recognize as kin and kind, then I will do it.

But before I truly get into it, I will very nicely ask you to swing down to your local bookstore or library, pick up a copy of Seanan McGuire’s Middlegame, and take a walk down the improbable road with Roger and Dodger. The differences between you and I and the twins of the Doctrine of Ethos are simple and threefold: we cannot manifest, we are forbidden to use our powers the way they can use theirs, and there are (hopefully) no secret alchemist cults trying to murder us when we don’t play nice with their fucked-up science experiment.

Roger and Dodger are gods, true gods, gods I recognize in myself and in the godkin I have met who have spoken about themselves enough for me to understand that we are indeed talking about the same thing. Disappontingly, I see minor spirits far too often misunderstanding the nature of deification, or at least, understanding a version of it which is fundamentally antithetical to my experience. They may be deific; but either they suck at illustrating their point, or I am something far beyond deific, and I am again alone.

With that introduction, I need to talk about three things in order to answer your question. Two methods of deification and three definitions of ‘god’ in a hierarchy that only exists because humanity has not yet perfected their understanding of what is fundamentally and always beyond them. Two kinds of gods, honest gods, that split the difference between deific, divine, and legendary. Once you understand that, I can talk about godkin, and what it’s like to be me, and maybe by the end of it you will either recognize yourself in this, or run away screaming as most mortals will do.

The first method of deification is what I will call the incarnate gods- Roger and Dodger are good examples, so are most Legendary Pokémon, and Kaname Madoka from PMMM. They are laws of nature, concepts of creation, and calculations of cosmic proportions that also occasionally exist as people when they design to do so. They are not meant to be people, they are bad at it, I do not recommend being mortal and fucking around with them. You will simply die. I would not fuck with them outside of my own world that I created, where I get to be a form of incarnate god. You cannot overpower them: they ARE the rule, and they will change it if they need to. You can’t ruleslawyer gravity like a 2007 troll physics comic. An incarnate god of gravity will simply turn reality on its head and cause you to implode. If you are this type of god, I cannot help you. My understanding of them comes from being an Absol, and little more.

The second type are gods of domain and prowess: Zamorak (from RuneScape), Akemi Homura in both her awakened Witch and Devil forms (from PMMM), and yours truly. Quite a few of us, although not all of us, were originally mortal. Mortals amped up on so much power we are no longer bound by mortal laws. There is a difference between deification and simply stopping your clock to gain immortality. Mortal magic and deific magic are fundamentally different. Down to, I would argue, the atomic structure. Deific magic is pure in a way mortal magic could never be. To give a mortal more than a drop of deific magic heavily diffused in something safer and more understandable would be to quite literally burn them to ashes. Or rend them into a different, unspeakable form. Or turn them into living topiary. We are nothing if not unpredictable.

It’s the difference between a handful of dirt and pure neutron soup. Usually, in order to become a god like this, it requires the intervention of an incarnate god in some form. In Zamorak’s case, it was several Elder Artifacts and falling almost facefirst into halfway incarnating himself into the law of entropy. In Homura’s (at least in canon PMMM), she fucked with the laws of consequence and time to the point where she became the only expert they had on either of those and both laws decided to simply incarnate into her, and then she used that to cause problems. For me, it was having my entire magical and physical structure reorganized and rebuilt by an incarnate god of malevolent energy, and then I used what was a watered-down copy of the Devil of Devils’ glory to weave my own world into being where I was more or less the absolute arbiter of the laws of reality.

In PMMM Rebellion, when Homura fights Kyubey in that pretty lace dress of hers, that is approximately the magical prowess an awakened god of our capability will show casually. She has complete control over her domain (her labyrinth) and the reality of it, it takes no more than a glance or a thought to almost entirely reshuffle it. Her minions, who are little more than vaguely autonomous thoughts given some power of their own, may break that reality in whatever means necessary so long as it is to fulfill Homura’s current motives. Her domain falls apart when she does, and she is not separate from it; it is a consequence of her existence. Asking what came first, the god or their domain, is a simple chicken and egg question. It’s usually the domain, in our case; in the case of incarnate gods it’s a philosophical shrug and a nice headache.

You’ll notice I said awakened: that is because Zamorak is a great example of a god who isn’t entirely awakened. In canon, that is - the one I work with is awakened enough to fuck with his domain, which is what makes him quite useful to work with, although I do wonder what he’s getting out of me if not magical theory and utter adoration. Zamorak in canon is a god who ascribes himself to the philosophy of chaos and personal strife, completely unaware that he is incarnate enough not to change the law of entropy but to suggest things to it. He’s a god of chance masquerading as a god of personal improvement, and once he figures that out (and passes that knowledge onto Armadyl, who is his true light counterpart), he’s going to change the very way magic works. Guthix did everything in his power to try and become incarnate. He failed. Zamorak did it entirely inadvertently, and that’s the trick: the nature of deification is to follow the domain and influence it to your will. When laws of existence become people, they will do as people will, and people typically have ambition. Gods who are also people got that way for a reason. They always have a motive for doing so. It’s never accidental.

So, with a slightly more informed understanding of deification, or at least the versions of it that I understand, I can talk to you about me. What it’s like in the here and now, and how I knew. It took me years to get to this point, and I’ve much the way to go. I know more than I did when I was questioning; deeply more so. I don’t expect anyone questioning to be as sure as I am, and in ten years I will be far more sure of entirely different things, and if I’m lucky, this as well. But, let us begin again.

To be deific is to wake up in the middle of the night feeling like a black hole. You are vast, and you are dense, and the moment someone touches the skin of your sternum they will be sucked in like a movie's portrayal of quicksand. To be so vast on the inside, surrounded by empty air and gentle white noise like the faint pull of gravity that does not touch you. To feel so powerful as to be untethered wholly from the world, aware that you will blink and be floating alone in a space that you cannot touch and so too cannot touch you. You blink, and it is gone, and you are again in a normal body as a normal person, and you roll over and go back to sleep.

To be deific is to watch the seasonal changes and feel flashes of worn leather rope between your hands and the maddened singsong of the Wild Hunt, chariot reins in your hands and baying hounds that feel like fingers, like wings, like extensions of yourself that can be shifted around with barely a thought. To feel halfway like a black hole walking down the street, halfway caved into yourself and barely contained, incapable of truly understanding how you can be so far apart from it all without anyone noticing that something is off.

To be deific is to be a fourteen-year-old girl in one moment, unable to understand what draws her so to the wilds if not the song of sympathy that she knows she can understand if she reaches a little farther, a little farther past the barrier that prevents any mortal, psychological mind from understanding the call. To play a pixelated game and have everything rush back. To relive millennia in a single sennight, to go from chipped to broken, utterly broken, as the power comes rushing back and the slow, dawning realization like the day that there is no controlling it. That there is no controlling you.

Millennia of sins come rushing back, and you're mortal again, and you know the only way to bring a god to their knees is to kill them. And if you were spared, if you were brought down without dying, then there was a reason. That someone must have thought you worthy of fixing it. That you should now spend the next several years coming to peace with being a Devil, the cruelest of the cruel, amending fences and repenting your sins.

To be deific is to realize, quite suddenly and without ever actually having the thought, that understanding things through a Christian lens is utterly bullshit and absolutely does not apply to you. Now, your duty is not to repent, or to fix, or to find any sort of salvation. You are the monster queen, the king of the damned, the Devil of a world you made with blood and tears and sweat and magic. To retake the crown, you have to accept yourself. Acceptance does not mean dwelling, or sorrow, or refusing to take the steps forward that will carry you to the crown and halo and horn of deification.

The powers feel less overwhelming as you grow into them. You don't forget the rage. You understand your close friend's words over and over, as the lesson teaches itself. How a Devil so much less powerful and yet so much older than you once looked you in the eye, drink in hand, and gently told you that a single mortal can bring down a Devil, if they try, and believe wholeheartedly in their quest. Do not disrespect mortality. It brings nothing but death.

You wonder briefly who brought you down. You decide, as the lessons prove themselves, that you don't actually care. You're the mortal now, and mortal legends die. Mortal legends change the song of sympathy and the rules of the deific. In order to return, you too must follow the only path a mortal can take to become deific.

To be godkin is to become deific with every step. It's not to seek the divine from outside of it. It's to become it again, and reclaim it; find what was inside all along and grow yourself around it, until it can no longer be pulled from you again without scattering your ashes and stardust among the cosmos, never to return.

To be godkin is to never forget the moments of pure rage that none but powerless fourteen-year-olds can manage. To be godkin is to be an adult with their memory pressed into your skin. To be godkin is for that rage to never truly leave you.

We stand up again and stare at the emotions that are awake when we are not. We wonder what it will take to manifest again, to only twitch a thought in any direction and reshape the reality around us. It is an extension of our being, and the less aware we are of it, the less effort it takes us to remake the world. It is the nature of deification, to change the laws of reality at our whim and will.

To be godkin is simply a matter of knowing that, and forever reaching to do that once more. If only to feel whole and vast, as we always have been.

#luteia laments #otherkin #godkin #actuallydeific #actuallydivine #essays of the skyrose garden #perks of being luteia #I should post this on my website shouldn't I #I wrote most of this last night on my phone actually though

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i-am-infinite · 3 years

Text

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before.

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here.

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough.

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15.

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine.

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga.

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet.

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt.

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood.

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place.

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good.

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side.

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says.

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too.

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again.

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake.

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer.

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now.

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.”

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.”

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door.

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on.

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth.

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath.

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch.

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!”

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off.

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers.

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point.

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light.

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right.

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him.

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it.

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up.

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body.

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance.

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap.

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak.

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response.

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off.

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself.

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aonogifreactions · 4 years

Text

Hug Headcanons: Revisited

a/n: ive felt like i should rewrite this for a while now. i hated seeing those stuped ~180 words, so.. thats why were here! xD i added yukio to the mix as well, since ive gotten this ask >:) huge thanks to @no-remorse, who beta-read it for me <33

Tiny edit: I’d love to hear the feedback for this one! <3

Warnings: Spoiler in the last headcanon in Yukio’s part!

★ Characters: Rin, Yukio, Mephisto, Lucifer, Amaimon, Astaroth.

★ Words: 2,1k.

Rin:

no matter where, who’s watching, or what had happened before, he’s gonna give you a big, big hug! he absolutely lives for your hugs, it soothes him emotionally so much and works as immediate relief.

almost always his one hand wraps around your waist, while the other one goes on your head as he nuzzles into your neck; his hugs are always tight, almost as if you were about to get taken away from him - he doesn’t really feel like that inside, but.. he likes feeling that you’re here. present. for him.

after a fight, he immediately runs into your arms and almost makes you both fall on the ground as you nearly lose your balance when his arms wrap around you; feeling your embrace, your warmness.. something in his mind switches right away and he’s calm. he’s still shaking, but it gradually stops as he relaxes in your arms.

at first, he might be a little shy, but when he gets comfortable, he can’t keep his arms away from you. He just.. loves feeling you. hugs make him somewhat vulnerable, because he lets his frustration out, and at the same time - Rin gets an extreme dose of serotonin. He tends to place his forehead on yours just before he loosens his hold on you, and eventually moves on do to his things.

depending on your height, he still loves hugging the same! if you’re short - during hugging, he also places his cheek on your head, leaving a soft kiss on your hair. if you’re tall - he loves!! hugging!! into your chest!! or whatever he reaches!! he’s just snuggling into you like a madman.

he gets butterflies in his stomach when you hug him from behind and almost starts stuttering. (do it when he's cooking or sumn,, but u didn't hear it from me)

also, please, PLEASE wrap your arms around his neck. he’s gonna MELT.

Yukio:

his hugs are rare, but it’s not like he doesn’t touch you - it’s just Yukio being Yukio; hugs make him vulnerable, similarly to Rin, except that it’s Yukio’s way to “open up” about his problems a little. It’s surely a very small step forward, but it shows that he's trying, yet he doesn’t realize how much it actually helps him.

he prefers to hug somewhere where there are not so many people around, not necessary in private completely, but as long as you’re the only one with him in the room, he’s down for a hug if he feels like it (or you beg him enough lol).

he’s usually silent during hugging, but he really “quietly” lets his frustration out, you might even catch him sighing. at first, he embraces you with only one arm and places his head on your shoulder, but when it hits him - the emotions, that he’s been waiting for years and now he’s finally able to tell someone everything - he’s almost crying, but he intertwines his other hand with yours instead. even though there are no real words shared, his love language involuntarily shows the beauty of his complicated personality.

now, he’s a little “unwilling” to hug you, mostly because of all that emotions crashing on him, but he feels so much better afterwards.. it’s unreal, he feels like you used some kind of magical spell on him.

the worst time to hug him is probably when he’s angry - and while it seems like a totally normal thing, it doesn’t work as comfort for him - it makes him even more upset, so it’s really best to leave him alone for some time. he knows your intentions are good though, so usually, he comes back to you with a calmed mind and apologizes.

I picture his S/O being in this mess in chapter 126, where the twins just beat the shit out of each other, and suddenly Yukio’s s/o comes up to him and stops from shooting Rin - he’d have that mental wall blocking him from hurting you in any way, just when he realizes he points his guns at your face or grabbing his hands and attempting to get Rin out of his target range - both of those things and any similar scenarios would end up with him looking at you with those beautiful, yet unfortunate eyes showing so much pain and sadness, along with that broken expression on his face, hoping to understand him.

Mephisto:

we’re gonna have fun here. hugging with Mephisto is pretty common, he likes touching you physically and doesn’t really care if people see it - he’ll push boundaries as far as he can, but unless it’s someone or something really important, he stops and gets serious.

^unless it’s Arthur, he could politely knock on the door. Hearing the permission to come in, the first thing he sees is Mephisto hugging you with a hand on your lower back, heading dangerously onto your ass while casually giving him random papers and smirking at him. wow.

if you think the twins’ grip was tight, Mephisto’s gonna literally try to squish you into his body - it’s not hugging if your bodies aren’t touching themselves in EVERY possible way. You could be practically glued to him and he won’t complain - in fact, he’s gonna have that shit-eating grin and tease you by saying “hmm, aren’t you needy, darling? you can’t be away from me even if I work!” (even if.. it was him who called you over...)

he GETS handsy and you can’t do anything about it. and he really does it on purpose, just to tease you and see how much time it takes for you to get either horny or snap at him. nonetheless, he likes to place hands around your waist or just on your hips, then shove you into him, so he’s able to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

hugs definitely show his rather “softer” side, the silly one - but he also doesn’t hesitate to hug you when he’s serious; these hugs, however, tend to be quicker but more intimate. even if it’s just him standing next to you and placing his hand on your hip while watching the dark sky, stars flickering slightly as you feel a slight, cold breeze hit your face; you look at him, wondering what he’s thinking about, this incredibly sharp mind with hundreds, perhaps thousands of different thoughts. Is he reflecting? Reminiscing? Regretting? or is his mind wandering around some silly thoughts? Yet you’re the one left wondering, not noticing his emerald eyes have focused on yours a while ago. You take your eyes off him, slightly embarrassed, hearing only a faint chuckle and feeling his grip tightening on you as you two once again gaze at the glittering galaxy above you.

Lucifer:

due to his body being not as strong as Mephisto’s - he’s usually down for cuddling instead. however, when some of the elixirs do their job, he’s gonna give you hugs pretty often.

prefers to be in private when he really wants to give you a genuine hug; he doesn’t want to show others he fell for the trap named “love”. he lets himself be a hypocrite about it, for once (ekhem satan and yuri).

Of course, tiny hugs wouldn’t be forgotten while attending stuff anywhere else on Dominus Liminis, but they’re just quick hugs when you walk past him. he isn’t ashamed of you by any means, in fact, he’s proudly walking along with you most of the time, having a hand either on your waist or interlaced with yours.

Lucifer’s hugs are very, very confident and send butterflies to your stomach - he radiates that strong energy to make you feel secure in his arms - the world could be falling, but as long as you’re in his arms, he’ll do anything to protect you from any harm, even if this means losing his precious body.

sometimes he hugs you in his own, unique way - he interlaces both of his hands with yours and places his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and sighing softly. while you might think it’s not really a hug, it’s definitely a very sweet gesture. you can get a kiss on the temple or a few sweet and uplifting words whispered in your ear too, if he feels particularly affectionate that day.

his views on physical contact are... a little bizarre; he’s confused and doesn’t fully understand the purpose of it, yet - he will admit it’s quite satisfying. feeling your lover is definitely something that feeds the feelings he’s had deep within him. he might be a little stiff when you introduce him to this too, no matter how many times he’d seen humans do it - experiencing it for the first time is new to him, but surely it is something he grew to enjoy.

so what’s that “hugging” thing again? you just wrap your arms around someone and.. that’s it? are you supposed to just stay like this? how long? - that’s pretty much half of his thoughts going through his head when he hugs you.

it takes him quite a long time until he “learns” it just “makes him feel better”. he understands (kinda) the idea of it, but deeper down, he’s still pretty puzzled.

In the early stages of hugging, Amaimon didn't realize how strong his hugs were - if he didn’t break any bone of yours, then it’s a miracle. As soon as he noticed you almost passing out, he stopped and the guilt of possibly causing you harm has kicked in, so he promised you to make it up the best way he can.

Amaimon doesn’t realize it - but as time passes he grew used to hugs! Especially greeting hugs, which at this point he doesn’t realize he gives - it’s become a habit of his.

not a fan of long hugs - to say it bluntly, he becomes bored if it lasts too long (unless there’s been a fight beforehand, in this case, he understands you want to regain the sense of security that physical body is able to give). he likes quick hugs instead, which he gives more often.

Amaimon’s hugs are pretty simple - he wraps his arms around your waist and that’s.. pretty much it. He might rub your back sometimes, but to be honest - he just likes the simplicity. Funnily enough, when Behemoth notices you hugging, he also wants to participate! Tiny demon bounces your way and while it’s near your leg, he starts clinging to it and nuzzling himself (Amaimon’s kinda >:((((((( when he sees Behemoth snuggling, but it’s his boyo so he forgives him).

However, Amai gets really mad when he sees you hugging someone else than him. Unless it’s a close friend or family member, he’s.. somewhat accepting this, but if it’s someone he doesn’t know - he’ll either try to fight them or take you bridal style in his arms and just go away.

He also gets awfully handsy, which he probably picked up from Mephisto. His one hand might slowly slide down to grope your ass cheeks; when you look at his face questionably, he’s just gonna place the other hand on your ass as his answer.

Astaroth:

his understanding is even worse than Amaimon’s, so he’s initially against it. he doesn’t understand the purpose of it and it's very hard to convince him otherwise, saying something along the lines of “if you need your “physical contact” we can fuck on the counter”.

continuously asking him would only make the situation worse, as he’d get annoyed more each second, eventually making him leave the house for a few days. one situation, however, changed his mind the most - he’s once lashed out at you, leaving you crying. he left nonetheless and waited a few days until he cooled off. feeling bad for his actions and regretting doing it for once, he came back, but instead of confronting you - he left a withering rose with a note.

he’s learned a little bit from that situation - seeing that you accept his quirks, he decided to try out some of your ideas - including hugging. and oh boy, how wrong he was.

he will NOT admit he likes hugs for his life; very “tsundere” approach to it, but you can catch his face being relaxed sometimes.

his favorite hug is.. hugging you from behind! whenever you’re cooking or being busy just in general, he loves surprising you with a hug, encircling his hands around your belly as you flinch slightly, not expecting him. as an apology, he places a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

due to him being nasty, you gotta bear with his dirty-talking he’s “performing” every time he hugs you. he also WILL tease you by groping your chest with no shame, attempt to give you hickies, and after a while - move his hands dangerously near your chest.

#Ao no Exorcist #blue exorcist #rin okumura #Yukio Okumura #mephisto pheles #lucifer #amaimon #astaroth #Headcanon #Pure

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aesopsbaby · 3 years

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hello ^^

this is for your matchups (Cookie Run)

to start off, I am an INTJ-T, Gemini, and Korean-American. I’ve always been smart—though I wouldn’t say the best of my classes— and a quick thinker. I’m focused on my studies right now, and hoping to get into Harvard, or as least NYU. I’ve always been mature even at a young age, and knew that the world wasn’t just cupcakes and rainbows. some people have told me that I constantly look depressed lmao

I am a pansexual panromantic and a demiboy! I only have maybe 4 real life friends, and a good 5-6 online. I’d prefer to keep my life more private. I’ve realized how over the years I’ve progressively changed my perspective on life and people. I know how to evaluate different pov’s and just always magically know how someone is feeling. I know I used to be extremely selfish as a kid, but I try to treat everyone better after going through my own struggles. such as racism, homophobia, bullying, and much more. I try to include people who I have to work with as best as possible. If you were to summarize me in a short sentence, I am the therapy and clown of the friend group.

as for hobbies, I mostly just like to game! (This is the second exclamation mark ive used and it feels weird). I usually play pc games since I didn’t grow up with consoles, but with the exception of my switch. I play soccer—and thought I was going to be a sports star— but I really want to become a streamer if I’m still interested in it after college. If I make it to harvard/nyu, then I’d like to major in game design or English.

If you need anything else that I left out then please ask ^^ I probably forgot some thing since I have horrible memory! But take care of yourself and get back to your asks without rush 👺

I match you up with....

Cookie Run:

Timekeeper Cookie

She understands you really well.

And she also always manages to pick up on your jokes and give back the same energy!

Drabble:

"Heyyyy. Hey hey! Hey~~!"

You suppressed a groan,throwing your head back to show annoyance. Tilting your head to your left,you made eye contact with the source of the voice. A sneaky smile is somehow always evident on her lips.

Timekeeper frowned and furrowed her eyebrows,obnoxiously groaning and throwing her head back. Raising a brow,you stared at her as she continued to groan and frown before she glances at you and stops her movements.

"Hah! I'm mimicking you by the way."

"What?? I do not act like that."

"Well,it's true,you were groaning and--"

"No I meant,I don't act as dumb as you do."

Timekeeper instantly turned to look at you,an offended look on her face as she places both hands on her waist. "Now what is that supposed to mean,hm?"

Staring each other down for a few minutes,the air is tense between the both of you.

Then the sound of laughter erupted,both of you laughing and catching your breaths. Putting on such acts really helps Timekeeper to get distracted from all her stress,she's glad to be able to connect with someone like you.

I'm kinda bad with writing stories,,,so I'll put in some headcanons <\3

Timekeeper enjoys spending time with you as you understand her,and she understands you.

She literally does things that are chaotic. I mean come on,one of her quotes is literally "Why change time? Because I can and its fun." She definitely had set a trash can on fire once,let's all be honest.

And let's be even more honest here,you were probably the one to give her that idea-

You both can literally be talking about dumb shit one moment and suddenly be speaking about intellectual stuff??? Like?? How can the both of you go from "Do you think fishes can see air?" To "How do you think cultures came about? How do think the world was built?"

Honestly really loves your presence

She absolutely LOVES your attitude and personality because once she met you,you both immediately clicked-

She somehow gets all of your references to any jokes. And may sometimes continue on your joke with ease.

She would enjoy your company because she knows you aren't immature all the time. You know when to take control and stop joking around.

Admire how strong you are <3 You've been through so much and still managed to be a good person with an even better humour!

She would genuinely be really surprised if you were to catch onto how she's feeling when she's having a bad day. "You okay?" Is all you had to say for her to turn to look at you with wide eyes and an amused smile.

No one ever manages to understand her nor knows how she's really feeling so when you managed to quickly know she's feeling,she'll be relieved and appreciative. ^^

Same goes to you,really. She always knows how you're feeling and when you're joking.

She'll love to game with you!! But beware,,,she tend to get a tad bit competitive,,,,

Sorry this was sort of short! <\3

Goodluck for your studies!! ^^

I honestly love your nickname,,,,[INTJ-T Guy]. Thank you for your support! ♡

#Match up #Match up event #Cookie Run ovenbreak #cookie run timekeeper cookie #timekeeper cookie

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copias-thrall · 3 years

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I really liked the Papa III x F! S/o where the s/o was a typical shy and cute introvert, but this huge dork with those closer to her. Would it be alright if I requested the same with our dear Papa Copia (god I’m so happy to call him papa now :) )

Of course, nonny! Let’s get some sweet Papa IV up in here.

(Reference Prompt here. 😊)

Copia notices you because of your quiet nature. There are lots of Siblings that are vying for his attention and favors…and then there you are: sitting quietly during mass and reading the hymn book.

(He doesn’t have to know that you’ve been reading the same page the whole time while you admire him from out of the corner of your eyes.)

Every time he looks out, all he sees is your quiet dignity, and it speaks to him on such a personal level. While he’s grown to enjoy and embrace the showmanship of the Ghost project, he’s not a natural extrovert. So, when he sees you existing in your subdued state, he can’t help but yearn to be right there with you.

He sees you reading your book in the quad on a nice day, and he immediately pictures himself with his head in your lap as you read to him. When he spies you daydreaming in the library, he imagines what it would be like to play footsie with you under the table. As he comes across you sweeping the halls with your headphones on, he pictures giving you a homemade mixtape to listen to while you work.

Really, he wants to worm his way into the rich inner life he knows you must have.

He never does anything about it, though—in his mind you’ve been perfectly clear about your indifference to him. And he’d rather not stammer through an invitation that you’re only going to reject.

The mess hall is always a sticking point for Copia. He loves the attention—he does; it amuses him to watch the Siblings fight over who acquires his meal and who gets sits next to him. He’s still a man with an ego, and he likes it to be stroked.

But.

Some days, the whole scene just gives him a headache. On days just after an important sermon, or when he’s just back from tour, or when he’s spent the morning on a stack of paper Imperator has given him, “ASAP now, please, Papa”—it’s simply too much for him to have to be On for his admirers.

On those days, he has his Ghouls create a distraction (and Dew is always more than happy to set a fire) so that he can get in and get out with no one noticing. Then, he tries to find a quiet, out of the way place to eat his food in peace.

And that’s how he encounters you cavorting about with your friends.

You're out on the grounds because it's a fine spring day, and he can't believe that his this reserved, demure Sister is running about and chasing her fellow sister with a worm! You're laughing—not a coy titter, but a full belly laugh after you make a ribald joke about Imperator and a Brother!

Copia gapes.

You have a secret side that only your intimates know about? Well! It’s a circle he desperately wants to be a part of! (Even if he’s contractually not allowed to jest about the Seestor.)

He imagines your laugh ringing out in his quarters as you let his babies crawl all over you (someone who doesn’t mind worms surely wouldn’t mind rats, yes?), and how you'd make him laugh with your uncouth humor. He can almost taste the domesticity.

But…he decides to stay out of sight—he doesn't want to ruin the party (which he’s sadly come to realize that, as Papa, he does quite often just by virtue of his presence)—and that’s when he realizes he actually has a hope.

You’re lying back in the grass, watching the clouds roll by, and you say,

“Hey, that one looks like a rat,” to which your friend responds, “That’s just cuz you have Popia on the brain.”

“I do not!”

“You think he’s gOrGeOUs, you want to KisS him, you want hUG him,” he singsongs.

“Shut it!” you screech as your face flushes and you throw a balled up napkin at him.

He blocks it easily, and you lie back down with a huff.

“Whatever. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

Embarrassingly, the conversation shifts to how you’ve done it to yourself and if you’d just look at Copia instead of doing your best impression of a church mouse, that would be a good start.

Your face burns the whole time. I mean, having his intense focus just on you?

You shudder.

Surely you’d combust.

Copia bites his fist.

He could…? Have you??

***

Perhaps any of the other Papas would have been on you like white on rice…but research has always been more Copia’s thing.

Which means he spends the next few weeks slinking about like a bad spy (seriously—he might as well have on Groucho Marx glasses) trying to figure out what all your favs and interests are.

And the Siblings are beginning to talk about it.

“He was behind a column, and I thought he was a statue,” hisses one. “He moved, and it scared the crap out of me!”

“I saw him petting the potted plants in the west corridor like a weirdo,” whispers another. “I hope Primo doesn’t hear about it!”

“I went into the broom closet to get cleaning supplies, and when I pulled the light on, he was just…standing there!” laughs someone else. “I was too surprised to be startled. He just coughed and excused himself!”

The only weird thing to you is that you seem to be the only Sibling who hasn’t witnessed Copia being adorable odd.

You often sit by that pillar to read when it’s chilly outside, and that area in the west corridor is where you sweep. Heaven!—that broom closet is next to the wash station you use! How haven’t you seen him even once?

Dew thinks this is great fun. He’s been suggesting even more ridiculous schemes (that Swiss and he giggle about back in the Ghoul dorms) for Copia to “overhear” you and your party—which Copia is taking down in earnest.

Aether thinks Copia’s being a dumbass and guesses he and the girls will have to fix this mess. Cirrus thinks Copia just needs to learn the hard way (“He’s taking advice from Dew—how does he not know better?!”), but Cumulus agrees. The two of them coral Copia into the practice space where they firmly, but gently, tell him to stop pussyfooting around and just kiss the girl already!

Copia stutters out a series of awkward rat noises before simply nodding.

“I have been procrastinating, eh?”

“You can do it, Boss.”

“Who’s the best Papa!”

Copia straightens his posture. “I am.”

***

You’re staring out the window in the classroom—woolgathering instead of dusting—when you hear a quiet throat clear behind you. You nearly jump out of your skin and hurriedly turn to make your excuses.

What you’re expecting is Sister Imperator on one of her shadow runs—but what you see is a one (1) Papa in his casual blacks (that still seem vacuum-sealed onto him) looking at you with eyes full of mirth.

It’s with great effort that you yank your eyes from his thighs up to his face.

“Oh! Your Dark Excellency, sir! I-I-I…” you stutter before composing yourself. “If you need the room…?”

A smirk turns up one side of his lips as his white eye twinkles at you.

“It is you I wish to be seeing.”

You toss the duster to the side and smooth down your habit.

“M-me?”

“Sí.”

Did you do something wrong??

You worry nervously at the sides of your habit.

“I—” Copia starts, then suddenly looks unsure. He runs his hands over his head, smoothing his thick hair back into place.

He starts again, his speech clipped and formal.

“Would you do me the honor, Sister, of joining me for dinner?”

“I—dinner?” Like a staff dinner? Or...?

Copia blinks at you.

“I am asking you on a date.”

You blink right back.

Just you and him? Alone…

His face turns into lines of apprehension.

“Mi scusi—perhaps I am mistaken.”

He starts to back away, and you finally find your voice.

“Wait!”

When he stops, you gulp and take a deep breath.

“I would like that, Your Dark Excellency.”

A look of relief smooths his worried expression right before he smiles at you.

“Ah…‘Papa’ is fine, Sister.”

He takes his leave of you, closing the door behind him.

You manage to hold yourself together for another moment before you let out a loud whoop and jump up and down (and unbeknownst to you, Copia is standing just outside the door, beaming).

***

Dinner went over smashingly (literally—between the nervous energy of two of you, a plate, a goblet, and a wine bottle all ended up in pieces). Copia was the perfect mix between awkward rat man and smooth Papa, and you felt comfortable enough to engage easily in conversation with him.

You’d been a little trepidatious about after dinner (Copia certainly had not absented himself from the pleasures afforded to a Papa), but the only thing you’d done in his quarters was to meet his rats.

He’d walked you back to your room, then asked if he could kiss you. It was just a press of his lips to yours as he’d cupped your cheek, but it had felt like a promise.

The two of you end up making a perfect couple, actually. Copia, of course, respects your quiet demeanor, but it’s more than that—he understands it. The only time he singles you out is when you need to be his date to a clergy function or Abbey party—and he always gives you forewarnings for those!

On the flipside, you and he have the high capacity to be total dorks. The two of you feed off each other's humor, often being the only two in the room cracking up as you wheeze half-uttered statements at each other while the rest of the gathered looks on with pained expressions.

But neither of you care.

You finally have your Papa, and he’s made all of his imaginings with you a reality.

#asks #papa iv #female reader #fluff

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shunsuiken · 4 years

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hc’s for Kuroo and Bokuto with a fem!s/o that DOES NOT STOP TALKING!!EVER!!! like she seems quiet and calm at first, but then she surprises them; please 🥺🥺 xo

due to my illiteracy i read kuroo and kenma sdsjdksj i still wrote bokutos hcs tho so dw! thank u for this request<3

kuroo, kenma and bokuto having a talkative fem s/o.

—kuroo tetsurou.

so when you and kuroo first started dating

you guys were kinda nervous at first but thats natural for a new couple

after a few weeks though, you guys began opening up quicker and more comfortably with each other

communicating became much easier as well when you both learned each others love languages through lots of trial and error 💀

then came this time where

it was as if

your soul had switched with someone elses

because kuroo knew the type of person you were and what you were like

but that was not what he felt when he saw you excitedly chatting away with your friends regarding some movie that came out last week

(you guys are also laughing HYSTERICALLY with each other and omg kuroo has never seen that big of a smile on your face EVER)

kenma had to poke his sides to bring him back to earth cus dude was just that shocked

“KENMA WHAT WAS THAT FOR??-?-?-?1?1”

“you’ve been staring at y/n for a socially unacceptable amount of time, you look like a creep.”

“OH! HEY KUROO YOU’RE ON LUNCH BREAK”

oh my god. kuroo would think at first. who WERE you???

he realised that maybe all this time, the reserved and quiet you may have just been the first layer of your personality, maybe you just needed the time to adapt to the changes?

and so will kuroo lmao

“KUROO KUROO HAVE YOU SEEN THIS NEW MOVIE” “WE SHOULD WATCH IT” “ITS ACTUALLY REALLY NICE AND”

“y/N??? DO YOU NORMALLY SPEAK FHIS MUCH???” he was so used to seeing your calm and relaxed composure

and now that you looked like the epitome of chaos, he felt so cheated that he wasn’t able to get you to be like this in the first few weeks of the relationship

“YEAH!!! but MAYBE im on a SUGAR RUSH right now IM NOT ENTIRELT SURE BUT”

kuroo is just watching you speak, this dumb smile on his face as the truest form of you flourishes in front of him

he’ll start acting like a parent at some point because YOU ARE CRAZY MAAM

“y/n stop yappin’ and EAT” “WAIT WAIT LOOK AT THIS TEASER FOR THAT NE-”

he’d deadass shove a whole onigiri in your mouth just to tease you for a bit

he also likes that he can make jokes and make you laugh louder than before

hes just so happy to see this side of you 🥺

—kozume kenma.

kenma is going to be SO SHOCKED

ngl he’d probably look at u with his brows like >:0 “where did u take my girlfriend!!! where is my girlfriend!!!”

and you’d be in this happy mood so you are PEAK chatty right now so you’re laughing at kenma’s face cus 💀

were your two personalities really just that different 💀💀

kenma will have to get used to your sudden outbursts of excitement conversations every now and then

boy has NO idea what triggered you into switching personalities

but i guess kuroo helps him connect the dots and hes like oh and then hes like oh :D because its a good thing that you willingly act like this in front of him

esp without feeling embarassed or anything hes happy you’re comfortable

its also really cute when you suddenly feel like youre rambling too much

your arm would cling around kenma’s and he’d listen to you ramble about this new netflix show that was released a few weeks ago but it was totally cliche so you told him how the entire internet made fun of it

then when you turn your head to look at kenma, hes just looking forward and you’re like “sorry, rambling arent i?”

“its not a bother,” he’ll say, sliding his fingers to wrap around yours. “if you want we could watch it together for the fun of it”

and thats literally what yall did and oml is kenma glad to see the chaos unfold in front of him

(you were not wrong when you said it was cliche, kenma almost puked at how cliche it was lmfao)

he’ll defs poke fun at the way youre loud just around him and your closest friends but when youre with other people youre just crickets

sometimes when hes playing, you’ll watch his screen and suddenly start braiding his hair

and boy does he have some silky locks despite all the bleaching

then theres another situation where hes playing and you’ll be right beside him, commenting and yelling when they’re in a danger zone

“KENMA IF YOU STAY THERE YOURE-” “I KNOW I KNOW IM TRYING TO GET OUT” “QUICK!! YOUVE ONLY GOT 10 SECONDS LEFT”

“pft kenma you got your girl over or sth? we can hear her” an online friend is gonna say and kenma’s JUST BLUSHING AND STUTTERING, TRYING TO EXPLAIN

you can hear kuroo’s hyena laughter through kenma’s headphones 💀

and since you got to see kenma stumble all over his words and act like a nervous trainwreck, it was overall a very enjoyable experience for you

“sooo when are you gonna play again?”

HES GOING TO PINCH YOUR CHEEKS AS A PUNISHMENT

but you like it cus kenma does this cute nose scrunch whenever he pinches your cheeks

and ever since you’ve shown kenma this side of you, the teases between you and him have been endless

you both make sure never to go too far with the jokes tho! so alls good :)

—bokuto koutarou.

bo would prolly be so confused at first like yall know that one ep where hes up against karasuno for that summer training camp and hes just (°_°) YEAH

he’d be like that for the first five seconds before shit clicks

“Y/N!!! Y/N!!!!” “KOU!!! KOUTAROU!!!!” and cue the big couple hug

and every other third year is like 💆🏻‍♀️ here they go AGAIN

and akaashi is literally holding bokuto’s hotdog he literally threw in the air

“A- AKAASHI DO YOU SEE THIS” “yes, bokuto-san, please lower your voice”

bokuto is just 🤩 @ you and he can’t seem to take his eyes off your lips, he loves the way they move

sometimes when yall are in the same class, everyone purposely puts you two on each end of the class

just so that your vibes dont mix and end up causing an explosion

but distance makes the heart grow fonder 🥴

SO THERES LITERALLY NO DIFFERENCE

but even if you two become a lil too loud for everyones liking, they still enjoy the atmosphere you two bring

also loves to invite you and akaashi to walk home together because 🥺 the energy is just so nice

hes also glad that his girl and his best friend can speak comfortably

also rip akaashi’s ears whenever you two start laughing or yelling about some stupid puns you read out loud on the way home

now, during practises after school

the entire fukurodani vbc has to constantly remind you guys to tone down your noise levels

no, not those noise levels

but the way both of you can speak so passionately when talking about things you both have mutual interest in

there’ll be lots of jumping around and always expect the unconscious hand-holding, bo just really likes to hold hands with you

“Y/N YOU LIKE THIS MOVIE??1?2?1?-?1?” “YEAH IVE LOVED IT SINCE LIKE,,, FOREVER!!”

and obvi bokuto’s gonna bring up and ask you why and how you suddenly have so much more energy than before

and you’re just like “i’m only like that for a while 🥺” and you tell him you only start showing the way you actually act when you’re fully comfy w the person

his face softens, relieved that he can make you feel safe in his presence

hes happy that you’ve come to feel that way

so he becomes clingy for the rest of the afternoon you’re not complaining

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #kozume kenma #bokuto koutaru #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kuroo x reader #kenma x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #haikyuu headcannons #hq headcanons #hq hcs #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #bokuto koutarou x reader

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