#but i do kind of hate how everything has to be safely consumable? the trigger tagging things…..like donttttt misunderstand me i even have

[iamdeceived]

Kraglin can start another riot!

A/n: Hi, this is just a story that my strange mind has created. It takes place in the second Guardians movie. I proofread it all, but if you find any mistakes, please let me know. (I don't pay for therapy for anyone). Good reading!

WARNING: Mention of rape, foul language, high level of triggers, deaths and murder. IF YOU DON'T FEEL COMFORTABLE, DON'T READ!

🦋female reader🦋

*⁠♡*

You won't soon forget. The day started like any other. Yondu's ship landed on Contraxia, so that the captain and the boys could "relax". Yondu went up to the room with one of those robot whores, and the others got drunk and had a good time.You sat at the bar, massaging your temples. His head throbbed. "Same as usual, dear?" You murmured a low yes to the attendant. A big green alien with tentacles and a filthy apron. You smiled at him. He brought your drink, which you immediately started drinking. Almost desperate. You needed it. Drink until you don't even remember your name. Maybe that would help him forget about the sleepless night.You stayed up all night. You tossed and turned in bed, but you couldn't sleep.

knew very well that something bad was about to happen. Something really bad.It had been a long time since you had been kidnapped from Earth to serve as a sex slave. Yondu rescued you shortly afterwards, and so you live near the captain.It's not like you guys are intimate. But you loved those boys. You feel safe around them. Especially close to Yondu. You owe him your life. And would be forever grateful for that.The Ravagers spent a lot of time in Contraxia.

Since always. Lately, everyone has had a lot of work to do. So finally a little rest would do us all good.You should be very happy for the well-deserved rest. But, I couldn't help but feel that something was wrong.Every time Yondu's ship lands on the frozen planet, you take the same route, to your favorite bar, and stay there drinking like crazy, and making small talk with the kind and pleasant bartender.You had met so many times and spent so many hours together that you were almost best friends. If this position didn't belong to Kraglin.It wasn't mean, you loved Kraglin with all your heart.

He was your best friend and a brother to you. They told each other everything, and defended themselves tooth and nail.But there was no way she could be near him while they were in Contraxia. You didn't really like being around the whores there. Mainly, didn't like to see them rubbing up against his best friend. It was worse when it came to Yondu. Do you feel… jealous? For sure.

You love Yondu.

It's very different from how you feel about Kraglin. Kraglin is his brother. Yondu is the man you would want to spend the rest of your life with. But he doesn't know that.He's cold, and his dates are professional at all times.He's never touched you, and he doesn't get too close. He's the captain, you're just the subordinate who's in love with him.

The attendant stopped. He looked at you with great curiosity. Maybe he sensed her nervousness."Is everything okay, dear?" You lifted your eyes to him. She bit her lip so hard that a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth. And then you started to cry.You were exhausted.You love Yondu, and you hated the thought of him up there in the room with another woman.

Even though I knew it was just a stupid robot. You love Yondu and he will never return what you feel.His head throbbed hard, as if something was pressing down on both sides of his head with all its might.You were exhausted.Had worked all week without being able to rest properly. You barely saw Yondu, and you couldn't even talk to Kraglin properly these past few days. He worked so hard that he barely had time to eat. S/n was simply exhausted.She tipped the bottle once more. Consuming all the liquid inside, before wiping the tears away and asking for another drink bottle."You didn't answer my question… Y/n, is everything okay?" He knew about your feelings for Captain Ravager. When he gave the bottle to your hand, you took a long drink. "I've been really tired…" her eyes stung. You won't cry, not again. The attendant placed one of his tentacles on her arm and with another caressed her head. "Whatever you're going through right now, I want you to know that you're strong enough to get through this! Don't worry, it's going to be okay in the end, honey, I promise!"She gave him the sweetest, most genuine of smiles. "Thank you, you know that means a lot to me!" The attendant smiled and walked away to attend to someone else.

You raised the bottle to your lips once more. Before she could actually drink his precious drink, heard Tulk call out to Yondu. Apparently he was already drunk. You see the captain coming down the stairs. Immediately looks at the attendant. With a suggestive smile on his face and beckons you to go.

*♡*

You stop next to Kraglin, dodging so the "girls" with him don't touch you. He flashes you a smile, and ruffles your hair. "Is it over yet?" You nodded, then pointed at Yondu, who was walking by without looking at anything but Stakar. He gave a wan smile. Kraglin obviously knows how you feel about the captain. Once, when he was drunk, you had to beg him not to say anything.Yondu walked past you, and his eyes glued to your back.You felt a punch in the pit of your stomach as he and Stakar started yelling at each other.

You squeezed Kraglin's shoulder and he took your hand. The boys had told you about Stakar's relationship with Yondu.

She knew that was important to him. Felt Kraglin squeeze his hand.Taserface said something to insult Yondu. He had been doing this ever since the captain pardoned Peter. But he never said anything to the captain's face. -Disgusting coward- you thought. His eyes were still on Yondu. Kraglin was squeezing his hand. He defended the captain. You saw when Stakar left with his group, leaving Yondu behind in the heavy atmosphere.

You're still holding hands with Kraglin when a golden woman comes up to him.-Sovereign-. You thought.

*♡*

Back on the ship, you were heading towards the guardians. The golden woman wanted to kill them. Rocket, you thought. A smile escaped her lips. "I wonder what you got up to this time?" For a moment you even forgot the bad feeling that walked with you.Yondu was too quiet. He shouted an order here, another there and closed himself in his corner.You wanted to run to him, wrap him in your arms and give him a comforting kiss. But you held back.

Kraglin and the others were busy making some necessary repairs. From time to time, you would still hear Taserface badmouth Yondu behind his back. "Your time is near, my dear! I want to have the honor of witnessing your death!" You told him with a smirk. He rolled his eyes and left.Taserface wasn't man enough to touch you. Yondu said he would kill anyone who tried. It was the first time for a woman on the ship. Some rules have been established.

*♡*

You were alone in your room when the door opened.You thought you were going to die when you saw Yondu enter. "we arrived ?" Yondu nodded his head. "I want you to know something." You shook hands. The nervousness returned to her body. "I have no plans to hand over the guardians." You sighed. You already knew that. Yondu loved the guardians. He would never betray them. "I'll betray the arrogant golden woman instead. Steal the batteries and sell them on the black market." You nodded. "Do the others know?" Yondu said no. They wouldn't react well. You both knew that. "Why did you come to tell me that?".He turned away before answering. "You have more maturity than those idiots." And then he left. Leaving you alone with the feeling that something bad is going to happen.

*♡*

Everything happened way too fast. You went to the guardians' ship. They saw no sign of Gamora, Drax or Quill.You held your breath when Kraglin spoke out against Yondu. It wasn't a good demonstration. But it was enough to get all shit started.You felt your body shake when Taserface proposed mutiny, and you had to fight not to fall when Nebula shot Yondu.

Rocket and Groot were taken to the ship.

*♡*

Taserface was humiliating him. Making sure he saw his friends being murdered. "You killed these men. Why are you weak!" You were close to Kraglin.At that moment, you wanted to kill him. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw that he didn't want that to happen.

Taserface hit Yondu. The others laughed as they waved at the lifeless bodies floating in space.You clung tightly to Kraglin's arm. He returned the gesture grabbing her shirt.You didn't have a choice.Helping Yondu at that moment, or even saying they were in his favor, means death.Kraglin didn't want to die. Taserface hit Yondu. You didn't want to die. Taserface hit once more. And others. Yondu didn't even bother to lift his head. Defeated. You can see the sadness in her eyes. Once again. And another.His fists clench. Taserface lands a punch to its captain's chin. He lets out a painful sigh. His red eyes glued to the ground. You clench your teeth.Another painful sigh.

Kraglin understands what you want to do. He holds you tight.You let go of him.You're not even thinking about it when your fists slam into Taserface, hitting his nose with all the strength you have.The ugly man takes two steps back.

Cold sweat trickles down Kraglin's forehead.You place yourself in front of Yondu.

The laughter in the ship ceases. All eyes are on you.The captain finally looks up. You quickly turn to face him. You see a mixture of many emotions in his eyes, his beautiful red eyes. You never had the right to be this close to him. Those seconds seem to turn into hours.

You see hate, fear, sadness, disappointment, humiliation, relief, pride and despair in their eyes.

Before you can look forward again, the Taserface grabs you by the wrist, injuring you in the process. He lifts you off the ground, bringing you into his eyes.

A scream catches in Kraglin's throat.

Yondu looks down again. He doesn't want to see you get killed."You are very abused, little girl!" You hear the laughter start up again. "What should I do with Udonta's hot girlfriend?" The free hand goes to your neck, still lifting you in the air.Rocket who was just making small jokes, is now completely silent, bright eyes wide open staring at you, breathing fast and desperately. "Don't hurt her!" he whispers. Groot is clinging to the bars of his cage.Taserface smiles at the raccoon, before squeezing its neck. "I'm not going to kill him. I'm just going to…play with him! And then I'm going to sell him to the slave traders who wanted him in the first place." Yondu looks at you.You wave your feet in the air. Breathless.Kraglin closes his eyes with all his might - it's my fault, she will be a slave because of me! The captain will die because of me, my fault! - He wanted to help. All of you though, fear paralyzes your skinny body. He cannot move.

Nebula was in a dark corner. Waiting to intervene in case those stinking idiots try to kill their wares. You weren't very important to her anyway.Taserface throws you to the ground. And immediately you go close to Yondu, ignoring the pain and shortness of breath. You breathe desperately to fill your lungs with air. His hands left huge purple marks on her neck. You look at Yondu. Something in his eyes says you're the dumbest, bravest human he knows. Is he… sad for you? You hug his neck."Ownnn, they are so cute!" Someone yelled. And then another session of giggles began. Rocket lowered his eyes. Groot let out a scream.

Taserface grabs you by the hair.

*♡*

You were on the cold floor of the ship. Naked.

Doesn't know how long the torture lasted. Doesn't know where Yondu or Kraglin is. Doesn't know what they did to Rocket and Groot.

You choke on your tears.Remembers seeing Yondu lower his head, remembers hearing Kraglin scream. It was so noisy there that no one even noticed. Only you.

You didn't even bother to get up. You flinched in an attempt to hide your intimacies.Cry low.The ship has been silent since Taserface threw you in the cell.Her skin burned. Dishonor. Disgrace. Your damn habit of wanting to play heroine.Suddenly you heard footsteps and laughter. You cringed, knowing they were close. again. And then Rocket and Yondu were thrown into the same cell as you.They avoided looking at you at first. You sat on your thighs, and hid your breasts with your arms. Yondu took off his coat and threw it at you without looking at you.

"I'm sorry girl! I couldn't protect you out there."Your eyes filled with tears.

You sat next to him. Huddled inside her coat.

*⁠♡*

In the end, Kraglin ended up helping you anyway.All the rest of the crew were killed by you, Yondu, Rocket and Groot.Soon after you went to Ego. Save Peter from his father.And then they got an indefinite ride until Yondu got a new ship. After all, yours was blown up.

No words were exchanged.You spent a lot of time alone.You avoided Kraglin, and barely looked at Yondu. Tried to have as little contact as possible with the guardians.When they got the new ship, you installed yourself in what would become your new room. And spent most of the time on it.Kraglin got tired of being ignored by you and left you alone. Yondu was barely looking for you.

*♡*

You gathered enough courage to go to Yondu.He was seated, in front of the panel, which opened directly into the space. You went to him."You have to stop ignoring Kraglin, he's going crazy. I can't stand hearing him complain anymore!" You faked a smile.

After all, Yondu couldn't sleep.

He almost died after saving Peter from his father.

You went to him."Seriously, you need to stop!"You noticed the nervousness in his voice as he approached. You stopped beside him. It cost him to look at you. You caressed his face.

You were also having a really hard time sleeping since everything happened. He went rigid under her touch. He cocked his head in her direction. You let him relax his head on your chest. Stroking her face, her head and her shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her waist. He pressed you against his body. "You need a new crew, captain. "His grip tightened. And then he cried softly in her arms. He let himself be beaten again, this time in a much nicer way. "Damn it, I know, girl!"

*⁠♡*

Kraglin had told him about his feelings. You heard him tell. And for some reason, his reaction was different than you imagined. You talked more. They spent more time together. They stayed together.

You and Kraglin were there when Yondu recruited more men to form a new Ravager team."Watch out, captain! Kraglin might start another mutiny!" You wrapped your arms around his waist. Yondu laughed. Kraglin snorted. "I already told you it wasn't on purpose!"

You both laughed.

#yondu x reader #yondu udonta x reader #kraglin obfonteri #kraglin x reader #gotg #gotg2 #michael rooker #yondu udonta #rocket raccoon #peter quill #gamora #baby groot #ravagers #michael rooker x reader

[blacksunscorpio]

Astro Musings No. 6

Libra Lilith

Makes one have a charm that can be deadly. The type to entice someone effortlessly. They are the types to appear innocent but have a bit of a Machiavellian ace up their sleeves. They can be subtly controlling and hard to resist. If in the 12th House, they can manipulate subconsciously and their prey

the object of their affections might not be able to see what’s going on. This can make this placement even harder to resist than a Lilith in Scorpio Jupiter square Lilith in natally or in synastry will make two people gluttons for sex. Or it will make a native a glutton for sex. Not a bad aspect but just make sure to practice safe sex and wear condoms. Worst that can happen is an STD, pregnancy if you’re not ready for it, or wearing yourself out. Your North Node

Falling into your 7th house makes one’s life direction and goal tied to their relationships. The key in this life is to care for others and be “other” oriented. If it hasn’t appeared in life [yet], you can be sure that it will manifest at some point or another.  This placement calls you to put others' needs before your own. If this happens, the key is to know that in this lifetime, your needs won’t be met until you give selflessly to another.

Advice?

Don’t rescue others. Don’t be a captain save-a-hoe. However, there’s no need to cut others off either. [Scorpios and Taureans with this placement, I know this might be difficult for you ;) ] Empower others. Listen. Help others/the ones you care for discover their own strength.

Asteroid Apollo

In astrology, is where you can take something for granted, and ignore it to your detriment. So if your Apollo is touching your Mercury for example, you can take your mind for granted. However, when you focus on it, you can become a master. in synastry, it can be the aspect that makes one enthralled with another. Kind of like Lilith or Pluto. Remember, Apollo is master of the Sun. The other person can see Apollo as this vibrant light. There can be a Luciferian light almost. Undeniably beautiful [remember the only thing that kept Lucifer from being God is the fact that he was created. Let that sink in.]  Obsessive energy with that planet/point. If harshly aspected there will be imbalance so there’s a constant need for harmony.

If One Half of Your Natal Chart is Empty... This indicates you most likely have a Bowl Chart Pattern. It typically manifests as an individual who is self-contained, has strong core values, and a strong streak of dependability. Most of their energy is within 180 degrees of their chart.

6th House Stelliums

Bring a strong focus on health and work. This house is ruled by Virgo. Indicated that there can be strong obsessive compulsions in the aforementioned subjects. If Mercury is here, this is particularly apparent. If the Sun lives here within a stellium they can be quite self-conscious. They’ll be forever working on how to be “their best selves” but won’t give themselves much grace. This particular configuration creates an excess of energy coming into the activities and affairs of this house. It generates obsessive energy. These people can throw their all into their work. The types to pull long hours and work overtime even if they don’t need the extra cash. If Mars is within said stellium, they’ll be types to binge eat but then work out for 4 hours just to burn off the calories. Trigger warning: I often see those who’ve suffered from Anorexia or Bulimia with this placement. They can have a hard time relaxing. Hypochondriacs live here as well. Advice? Take a break and get away from work and have private time. Mind your health but don’t leave it up to you alone. Seek a licensed professional to aid with recovery if you sense you might have issues that are hard to overcome. On a positive note, these individuals can become very good health gurus or at their best, be the types to excel at work and/or fitness.

Mercury Conjunct Lilith in Synastry

Indicates two people who will be intrigued or turned on by the other's mind. The Lilith person can act like Pluto [but remember synastry can go both ways] and kind of dig into the depths of Mercury’s mind. It may make Mercury feel quite uncomfortable if there are hard aspects. The Lilith person might make Mercury fantasize about some pretty illicit shit. They might obsess over them mentally. On the other hand, Lilith can find Mercury fascinating [especially in harmonious aspect] and will want to know everything about them. They can share very deep secrets with each other. Be careful about mind-games or mental manipulation. If this were to be a Tarot combination I’d see it as the Magician and the 5 of Swords 100%. Pisces Martians hate to fight and will usually be the first person to call for peace when in a quarrel. Libra Mars’ are actually the types to fight for justice and will be feistier than you think. Though Sagittarius and Gemini are Opposites... Their commonalities are their charm. Gemini’s and Sag’s can be among some of the friendliest in the zodiac. If you’re looking for the life of the party, look out for a Solar archer or twin. In addition, both can be rather detached emotionally. Sag’s are always looking outward. Think the 3 of wands in Tarot. They’re expansive. Looking for the next big adventure. Gemini’s are the social butterflies of the Zodiac, so what they’ll seek is a new friend, acquaintance, or new subject to occupy their time with. Both get bored VERY easily. They need massive amounts of mental stimulation to keep them happy. Sag’s mental stimulation has more to do with the higher mind [travel, languages, philosophy, spirituality], while Gemini’s have to do with the lower mind [numbers, words, basic intellect, etc.] Though Pisces and Virgo are Opposites... Their commonalities lie in the fact that both are introverted by nature. As mentioned above, Virgo rules the 6th house which governs work and routine. Virgos can retreat into themselves while they break things down and organize. The same with Pisceans when they get into reverie-mode. When they get into their creative trances. Pisces’ ancient ruler is Jupiter which rules the mind just like Virgo’s Ruler Mercury does. The mutable quality of their signs will allow them to jump from topic to topic, both of them staying interested in the flow and the outcome of their conversations. Sagittarius and Taurus Though fire and earth, both capitalize in the realm of indulgence. Jupiter can rule addictions just as much as Neptune and Pluto can. Venus can be hedonistic by nature as well. Both can have a tendency to overindulge. Both are quite blunt. Sag has 0 filter and Taurus is master of sarcasm and blunt statements. Both are unable to sugarcoat. Remember to be real but a little tact never hurt anyone, lol.  When You Have two signs in one house... It will also depend upon the degree of cusp both the signs make in the house. So, the energy of one sign diminishes slowly and the energy of the next sign rises slowly. For example with Leo and Virgo will play an equal part in the house and the Sun and Mercury will rule equally. If your Midheaven is in Aquarius You find satisfaction in the unordinary. There is a desire to stand out unusually. Ambition can be based in the intellectual realm since Uranus rules this sign. Uranians have the highest forms of analytical intelligence. They can excel in connecting with people. Their reputation can surprise. Many may have heard of the or speak about them. The quintessential individual whose “reputation precedes them”. They may try to shock others on purpose. However, though their public persona can be known for their charitable works they can be very opinionated and stark in their views. When under-developed they may be too stubborn to entertain other modes of thought. It’s the nature of fixed air to never change [fixed] their minds [air]. Traditional vs. non-traditional is a struggle in how they approach the world, others, and the success they wish to achieve.     1st House Venus will wear their heart on their sleeve. If Venus is in Capricorn, they may a bit slower to move in love. Perhaps take a more serious approach to things. If harmonious, it can bless some natives with life partners who may have well-established professions. Other times they show their love outwardly in practical ways. They’ll SHOW you how they love by making sure you feel secure and taken care of financially. They’ll want to leave a legacy for their children with their partner. They’ll want their kids to have generational wealth to past down. I often see this aspect with people who have a suffix in their name. Like John Doe the 3rd or someone who has a father or mother who is a Jr. People with this placement may name their children after a family member. Remember the 1st house is the house of self. If Venus is in Cancer, they may be shy in love or adversely they can be very clingy or possessive to their partner or their partner can depend on them too much-- there may be a “mommy” thing going on.

If you’re looking for “immediate attraction” in synastry...

It’s not Pluto. Surprised? People mistake that love at first sight thing for Plutonic influence, but Pluto is shy by nature. Hades minds his business. His obsession will grow though the longer he studies and spends time getting to know you. That's when he’ll start netting up the web.

Uranus is who hits you with that out of the blue. Uranus/Venus interaspects

Can make people feel that instant attraction from out of nowhere. Asteroid Cupido can inflict this on two people as well. In mythology, Cupid son of Venus; his job was to "wound" the unwary with his arrows of love; awaken a consuming affection directed towards a particular object of desire. In astrology, the asteroid Cupido itself is associated with initial enthrallment and acts of seduction performed in order to obtain the love object, not the sexual act itself. It’s the “look of love.” Examples of an overactive Cupido can include crushes, cultivating romance for the sake of the game, or putting the object of desire up on a pedestal. In the dark sense, romantic enthrallment can originate out of a love for the chase, only to abandon the prey once it is caught. That can happen with love at first sight if there aren’t stable and grounded aspects to lock two people together. Uranus also represents sudden breaks, so there can be on-again-off-again tendencies in relationships like this.

Common placements found in people who are surgeons and physicians are often:

Strong Virgo aspects or earth placements

Mercury rules the hands. Virgo is dissecting and analytical. The 6th house is also about health and service. They love to take things apart and put them back together.

Capricorn

as well is quite grounded so they often have steady hands- something a surgeon needs if they are to stand for 10 hours straight during an open heart procedure.

Plutonians

tend to be quite good with medical/surgeon/mortician occupations. Blood, the raw parts of humanity, death does not scare these people. They like to know how things work from the inside. I also see many Moon-Pluto

people with surgical prowess. This aspect I often see in gynecologists. Last but not least, Strong Mars is not afraid of gore or blood. Mars is often seen in surgeons. Mars is all about blood and broken bones. As a result, those with Mars in Aquarius is often seen in orthopedic surgeons. Mars in Cancer or Mars touching Chiron can be good rehabilitation or out-patient doctors. Physical therapists as well.

Your Elevated Planet at an Anaretic degree

[last degree in a sign] can make one feel like they have to rush to become successful. To reach the pinnacle of their dreams as soon as possible. They may feel like no matter how much success they have it is never enough. There may be constant transformation to this most elevated. The closer to the MC, the more it will display itself in public life. They may build and rebuild their reputation over and over again. Take Robert Downey Jr. whose most elevated planet is Neptune [like most actors]. It is at 29 degrees and we see him go from drug-addled Hollywood bad boy just for that reputation to die [29 degrees] and then be reborn into Sherlock Holmes and our beloved Tony Stark [RIP].

If you find yourself able to adapt to most kinds of music

Check to see if your Mercury [communication] or Venus [what you appreciate] is in a mutable sign, a water sign. Also check to see if your moon is mutable or in a water sign. Jupiter is also the ancient ruler of Pisces and he rules expansion and joy. Music is often considered a source of joy and higher thinking. Strong Jupiterian influence can make someone like different kinds of music. Uranian placements such as Sun/Moon or Venus too, it can also be processed very much by the subconscious, So look for  Strong Neptunian or 12th House influence. Strong Virgo placements too since music is technically a science. Why? Because it can be measured. 

Gemini Moons 

Especially in the 2nd house will feel most secure in an intellectual environment. They may also excel monetarily by using their minds to make money. Writing books or setting up podcasts to get their thoughts [mercury]  and voices [2nd house] out there.

Sugar Babies... Are usually the Venus in a Venus/Saturn situation, the Moon in a Saturn/Moon connections, or the Moon in a Moon/Pluto connection. Lilith in trine aspect to another planet in synastry brings out the best in Lilith... Yes, they can still be intense but you’ll see less of her “demonic” energy and more of her benevolent yet wild seductress aspect. With Venus, she’ll bring out the erotic side between both people. Borderline Hedonism in both people. She’ll make a more austere planet like Saturn open up. Make him comfortable with his depraved side instead of flogging himself like a penitent monk in private over it.

Dangerous Natal Placements Can Be:

Neptune in the 8th [rules drownings, suicides, death by mysterious means]

Gemini 8th House

[Can rule breathing issues]

Aries 8th House

[Rules violent deaths or those who can be prone to violence. Be it dishing it out or receiving it.]

Saturn square Pluto

Can make someone quite cruel.

3 or more malefic aspects to Jupiter is often found in psychopaths.

Jupiter in the chart is where we show the most benevolence. Forgiveness and Kindness. If Jupiter is having a hard time, a person may be emotionally stunted or out of touch with their spiritual side. 

Dominant Nessus

Can make someone an abuser.

Mercury in hard aspect to Uranus or Neptune

can cause mental imbalances or someone who has sudden breaks of the mind. The native will need to take care to make their mental health a priority.

Excessive malefic placements to Mercury

Can make someone a pathological liar or have a difficult time telling the truth. 

Algol in hard aspect to Pluto, Sado, Nessus, Saturn

Can also indicate cruelty but also someone who gets pleasure from it. Yikes.

Underdeveloped Leo placements:

Can make a native only focused on their ego and their ego alone which can make them into quite self-serving and as a result, they can suffer from megalomania. Same with Underdeveloped Arian/Martian placements. Hitler was an Aries and Benito Mussolini was a Leo/Apollonian. I’ll just leave that there.

5th house synastry

Makes two people have fun together. If the moon is there they will know what makes the other person “feel” good. What that person needs to make them laugh.

Your 12th House Planets

Are the Planets that are either hidden or expressed more in secret. The ones that have a harder time expressing or exposing themselves.

A 12th House Leo Planet

may only feel brave when they alone. These are the types to take part in drama or be thespians in school because they are easily able to express themselves when they feel they have the safety net of a mask.

A 12th House Cancerian

Planet will find it harder to express emotion or be a bit shyer.

12th House Plutonian Placements

may be extremely introverted and perhaps find themselves able to express themselves more online/ in secret. They can be good at covert ops or spying. They can even be quite psychic. 

12th House Venus/ Venusian people can find love to feel dreamy or even goes unexpressed. Dreamy romantics. They can be unconditional in love but sometimes they can get carried away with their fantasies OR they can love the fantasy of love more than the reality which may cause them to either project their fantasies on others or never fully commit because no one will ever live up to the fantasy they’ve created in their minds about someone else. Take care to love who you love because of who they are. Don’t force anyone to fit into a mold they’re not made for. Astro Musings No. 1 Astro Musings No. 2  Astro Musings No. 3 Astro Musings No. 4  Astro Musings No. 5 Astro Musings No. 7 Astro Musings No. 8  Astro Musings No. 9  Astro Musings No. 10

#astro musings No 6 #Astro musings #Bruja musings #bruja tips #astrology tips #astro tumblr #astrology advice #astro asks #House astrology #elevated Planet #asteroid astrology #lilith #synastry #a compilation of your unanswered asks in one place #12th House #1st house #Mars #venus #moon #sun #jupiter #mercury #uranus #saturn #pluto

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #gods have mercy I wanna smooch him so bad

[dazaii-sann]

DAZAI x CHUUYA FANFICTION: ONE-SHOT [LOVE OR GUILT]

Blue.

Brown.

Green.

Yellow.

Orange.

Varied colors blended with each other like a 24-color palette. The wind blew from the west, causing the nearby tree leaves to dance along with the non-existent beat. The blue, clear water rampaged in silence, creating an almost seemingly soft serenade. A huge shining orb in the distance was split in half, projecting its reflection on the calm, unmoving water from below.

The whole place is quiet as if every single living soul had already vacated the area.

Well, not quite.

Two figures stood beneath a tree's shadow, taking refuge and solace after a whole day of struggles. The calm, light afternoon breeze soothe their souls as they look at the orange-painted sky.

Silence ensues but for them, it's what they need.

The quiet rage of the sea.

The hushing sound of overlapping leaves.

The way the remaining rays of the dusk kiss their flesh.

The sound of their even breathing.

Sounds romantic, right?

It is, except for one thing.

Everything, everything seems to retain its brilliance but something decided to exclude itself from that small band of glow.

A redhead's eyes… It's empty. The very exact opposite to his surrounding's radiance.

Meanwhile, the brunet beside him stood still, unmoving, as if he's already accustomed to that kind of scenario.

But is he?

No. Definitely not. Not in a million years.

Seeing his ex-partner like that made his knees wobble. All the remaining courage in his body had left him that even panning his head to Chuuya became an impossible task.

The guilt is slowly consuming him, pulling him into a world far more hellish than hell itself.

They stayed like that for a while, the stillness of the setting sun completely vanished into existence and was dethroned by a huge dark blanket covered with stars. The moon is in its crescent form, seems incomplete but whole all the same.

The coldness of the night embraced the two up to their bones, causing them to shiver.

"It's getting cold, Chuuya. Let's go inside?" The brunet proposed without looking at Chuuya.

He can't. Or maybe he actually can, but he chose not to.

Chuuya nods his head slightly and Dazai saw that movement from his eyes' corners.

Dazai's feet move in front of Chuuya's rear. With a slight push, the wheels on Chuuya's seat were sent into motion, carrying Chuuya's body along with it. Trails of the redhead's wheelchair and the brunet's footprints were engraved in the shore's sand and were immediately erased by the wave's arrival.

In just a few minutes, they reached a small house built near the shore. From its size, one can conclude that its interior can only shelter two people at once.

Upon entering the house, Dazai turned on the lights that he closed before going outside with Chuuya this afternoon. It has a simple structure. A kitchen, two couches and a table in between them, the comfort room, and a shared bedroom.

Dazai carefully lifts Chuuya's body and transfer it to one of the couches.

"You're so light, Chuuya~ Am I not feeding you well?" Dazai tried to annoy Chuuya like he used to back in the days but the redhead's expressions didn't even change. Not even a single move in his facial muscles. The brunet knew from the very start, that he could no longer hear Chuuya's annoyed response coming from his own mouth but he's still hoping, hoping that he could still hear Chuuya's voice one more time.

Chuuya's just like a lump of flesh without a soul inside of it. It is said that the soul is the trigger of an ability.

Maybe that's the exact reason why Chuuya lost his.

Ah no… There's no one to be blamed but Dazai.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

After moving Chuuya in a comfortable position, Dazai left him and went straight to the kitchen.

Dazai was a bad cook. Everyone must ready their pitiful stomach before taking in Dazai's food. Not only that but for the aftermath (puking included). But who would eat those kinds of stuff (can't consider them as "food") in the first place?

Everything changed when he started to live and take care of Chuuya over the past 3 years. He learned how to prepare varied homemade viands. Well, he doesn't want the redhead to eat canned goods every single day!

Dazai turned on the flame and let the ingredients fly and land on the pan's heated surface. He hummed a familiar tune, hoping that Chuuya might remember its tune but to no avail.

Dazai arranged the food into a plate and went to the redhead, utensils in his other hand.

Without a word, he scooped a spoonful and brought it closer to Chuuya's mouth.

"Say ah~"

If anyone could see this kind of scenario, the brunet looks like he's feeding a 3-month old baby.

"Well, he's indeed a baby," Dazai said at the back of his mind while moving the spoon back and forth.

After that dinner, Dazai once again carried Chuuya to their bed. It's not that big, but not too small. Just enough for the two of them.

Dazai then wrapped his arms around Chuuya's body. To give him warmth, a human's warmth to liberate the coldness of the night.

With the brunet's slender arms encircled around the redhead's body, and Chuuya's head leaning against Dazai's shoulder, they fall asleep.

Almost at the same time.

 ***

 For three years, the very same sequence of events happened.

Watching the sunrise and sunset together.

Helping him to eat his own food.

And then finally, cradling each other until they got consumed by the God of Sleep.

Have they grown tired of it, especially Dazai?

Even he doesn't know the answer. He was known as the Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia, someone who can see through everything. But why can't his superior, almost inhumane mind comprehend this feeling of longing?

Longing for what?

Is it for the return of his ex-partner's glory or the longing to return to his old life?

Maybe, but maybe not.

Dazai thought that the same exact happenings will happen again for today, and the days after that.

But he's wrong.

On with their usual routine, they watch the sun's tiny movement, trying to pull itself up higher in the sky as if it's trying to assert dominance and power. Somehow, the sunrise resembles Dazai every time he rose to bed, struggling his way up like he was being pulled down by the Earth's gravity. To make it less fancy, he's just simply lazy.

"C-chuuya… Is that you?"

Dazai froze, literally.

T-that voice…

Dazai panned his head to where the sound originated.

"A-ane…san…"

Kouyou smiled, but there's hidden remorse in it. The intensity of her eyes changed the moment it landed on Chuuya's frail body.

She looked away and face the brunet once more.

"It's been a while, demon."

 ***

 "So… You're still taking care of him?" Kouyou sat in one of the couches inside of their house.

"Mm…" A simple nod is the only response that he could offer. He's not in the right mood to entertain a conversation right now, especially to those with whom he had ties.

Despite his seemingly uninterested remarks, he's still on the lookout. Who knows? Kouyou might try to do something funny. As for Chuuya, he doubts that this woman will do such a thing.

"I see… I see…" At the same time, a mocking laugh escaped out of her lips. Dazai, on the other hand, painted confusion throughout his face.

"It's all your fault anyway. You've got to clean your own mess and atone with what you had done."

Dazai clenched his fist as tightly as he could.

"Why are you still taking care of him?"

Dazai's lips went agape, trying to utter a word or two but failed miserably.

Why then? What keeps him from escaping and leaving Chuuya behind?

He doesn't know.

"I…"

"Do you love him?" Kouyou's question streak kept on bugging Dazai's feelings.

Dazai's so sure of that fact not until Kouyou retorted once more.

"Or is it because of guilt?"

Guilt, huh?

The brunet said no more and silence governed the two of them.

"Now demon… Which one is it?"

 ***

 Darkness… Just pure darkness…

Or at least, that's what Chuuya sees.

He can't feel anything, nor grasp reality. He's just there, floating in the middle of nothingness. But amidst that abyss, he can feel his bones cracking, his body collapsing, and his blood leaking out of his system. The pain must be immeasurable and unbearable but none of those physical pains can equal his suffering.

He hates the dark, the emptiness because it always made him feel alone.

He can hear a huge crowd of people screaming at the top of their lungs as if their lives are in danger of death.

Yes, that's actually the case.

They're fleeing, away from the young boy in the middle of that immense object and that enemy he's battling against.

Their abilities clashed and the fiery battle caused a deal of damage to the establishments and facilities in the city, but Chuuya came out victorious. Yokohama is safe once again. The civilians already evacuated, thus no casualties recorded.

Everything's fine now.

But Chuuya's still not.

He's on his limit, and his rampage will continue up to the end of his life.

He had already accepted his fate, that corruption will disappear along with his existence but a bandaged hand tamed him.

But it's already late.

Chuuya got hospitalized after that. His life was saved, but his nervous system was badly affected.

Dazai couldn't help but blame himself. He was doing a lot of paper works at the armed detective agency's office (forced by Kunikida of course) but the unexpected foe barged its way to Yokohoma without even knocking.

That's why he's late to arrive at the scene.

Why did Chuuya activate his corrupted form without him?

He's such an idiot, an utter idiot…

But he's far worse than that.

 ***

 "Chuuya~ Let's go outside?" Dazai asked his ex-partner but the latter shook his head weakly, much to the former's surprise. It's the first time Chuuya declined his invitation.

Instead of going outside, Chuuya points his finger to their room's direction, by which, Dazai understood and followed. Maybe Chuuya is just sick of watching the sun's routinary motion every day or he just wants to rest.

To ease his boredom, Dazai cooked for their supper, but a creaking sound came out from Chuuya's location.

Dazai dropped the spatula in hand and sprinted to their bedroom only to find Chuuya scribbling something on a small piece of paper. Because of his malfunctioning muscles, the pen he used created a noise as it dropped on the floor.

"Chuuya? What are you doi-" Dazai is stopped dead in his tracks the moment he saw the letters inscribed on his paper. Beside the redhead is a small calendar with eighteen days crossed out for the month of June.

Today's June 19. Dazai's birthday.

"Ha…" Chuuya struggled to say something with his shivering and shaky voice. "Ha…ppy bir-th-da…y, sh-itt…y mac…ke-rel."

Dazai's heart starts to pound harder as if it wants to leap out of his ribcage. His head feels so fuzzy, but light at the time.

What's this feeling…?

Sadness?

Happiness?

Longing?

But Dazai knew that it's more than that.

"Now demon… Which one is it?"

"Ane-san… I already know the answer." He said at the back of his mind before embracing the redhead. He leaned closer to the former executive's ear and whispered, "Thank you, chibi."

Chuuya might not be able to restore his condition the way it once was but for Dazai, that doesn't matter now.

Whether Chuuya the petite mafia executive who kept on bickering with him back in the days or the Chuuya who's struggling to write a single sentence of greeting over a sheet of paper… Dazai's always fond of him, whatever the version.

And that will not change until the end of time.

-END-

#dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #soukoku #double black #dazai x chuuya #bungo stray dogs

[ivyglow]

you ever think about how engrained fatphobia is in society? like the worst is when skinny girls complain to me (a fat girl) about how they’re scared of becoming fat and they make fat synonymous with ugly, when being fat doesn’t mean you’re ugly. and when you call them out you become the bad guy because “people are allowed to have insecurities” when it has nothing to do with insecurities at all. and then i saw a tiktok today and this girl had the cruelest comment section and one of them really hit me hard because it was like “at least skinny girls can pull guys, you would kill them because you’re so fat” and like being a far girl my whole life that just hurt so bad.

every damn time! I think about it a lot, and I hate how people tend to say “she’s fat but she’s pretty” as if this was an exception as if fat people were usually ugly and so they need to emphasize that they’re a ‘beautiful fat person’ and this is so fcked up. that’s absurd, what the fuck- please tell me you reported her acc, jesus christ- what’s wrong with people?! I’m so so sorry you have to deal with this, nonny! whenever I start seeing this kind of stuff I do a ‘look around’ on all the people I’m following and if there’s someone that is triggering me or making me insecure etc I unfollow, it doesn’t matter if it's my queen almighty Beyonce, if it's making me insecure I take it out until I’m ok again and I focus on following and consuming content that reinforces that beauty has no skin tone, size, shape, etc, this doesn’t solve everything but it helps a lot because some of our problems come from comparing ourselves and people pointing out bs (something very hard not to do considering social media is usually a complete lie). I one hundred percent get the thing about calling out people because I do it and yeah I got this “but I’m not being mean, is just a personal opinion” a lot, nowadays you can be racist/fatphobic/ transphobic and deny whenever someone calls you out saying that “everyone is entitled to have an opinion, don’t try to convince me of your beliefs, this is my opinion”, but nonny, if this is someone close to you try to be a little away, this is not the type of friend to keep around, whenever something like this happens I usually stop talking w the person, they can be prejudiced all alone, not around me especially if their shit is affecting me. that being said I hope this is a safe space for you and if you ever feel that I did something not so cool please call!me!out! and I’ll do my best to get better, also if my blog ever triggers you in some way don’t think twice before unfollowing me, your mental health and well-being always come first! <3 

and if no one reminded you that today YOU’RE SO SO PRETTY, EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND IT HAS THE SIZE, SHAPE AND COLOR ITS SUPPOSED TO HAVE BECAUSE WE’RE NATURAL HUMAN BEINGS AND NATURE WORKS ITS WAYS PERFECTLY <3 ily (try telling yourself this too, everyday, hell every hour if you need, just please don’t you dare to forget how amazing you are!) and fuck those mean people, they’re the ugly ones at the end of the day (the whole day imo cuz there’s no way someone can be pretty when they’re fatphobic, racist, xenophobic, etc)

#tw fatphobia #anon #mel answers #I mean it ok bby? if I ever do some shitty thing please call me out #pull my ears #I wont mind and i'll do my best to do better #ily #again: youre perfect #fuck that person on the comments section #<3 #hockey culture #< kinda #cuz we have a lot of fatpobia around there #and around here too

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Whumptober 24: You’re Not Making Any Sense

Blindfolded

This was originally gonna be part 2 to Bound and Gagged but it just didn’t work out, so instead I wrote some random Damage

Summary: Cole has been a very, very bad pet. He’ll learn.

Trigger Warnings: dehumanization, creepy/intimate whumper, pet whump, stockholm syndrome, and just like... general uncomfy vibes associated with the aforementioned warnings. If that sounds like it would bother you, please don’t read!

515 words

“You’ve been so very bad, pet.”

He trembled, his eyes on the floor. He hated that tone. He hated knowing he was bad. He knew he would be punished, but that tone meant it would be bad.

Master forced his chin up, his cold and furious eyes meeting his precious pet’s tear-filled ones.

He wanted to apologize. He would apologize a thousand times over if he was allowed. He hadn’t meant to do it, he hadn’t meant to be bad. But he was. He was horrible, ungrateful, unworthy of his Master’s love. Master would fix him. He needed Master to fix him. And for that, he needed to be punished.

This didn’t stop him from shaking or crying.

Why did Master love him so when he was such a bad pet? He had to put so much energy into training him, into making him better. Surely there were much better behaved pets out there.

But Master had chosen him.

He was grateful, of course. He was so grateful that Master had chosen him. But he didn’t deserve to be treated with such love and kindness when he was still. So. Bad.

Master pulled out the blindfold.

Pet’s eyes widened. No no no, he hated the blindfold, he would rather the cage, he would rather the pole, he hated the blindfold so much, not the blindfold! 

“Hold still now,” Master said, placing it over his pet’s eyes.

He wanted to run. He wanted to break away, to keep his sight. But he stayed there, choking on his cries as the blindfold was fastened into place.

“There,” Master said, petting his head when he was done. “Couple hours with that on will do you some good.”

Hours?

He sobbed.

Master tsked, pulling him close against his chest and petting him softly. “There there Pet, Master is here. Master will take care of you, don’t you worry.”

He leaned into Master’s embrace weakly.

“I’m sorry, darling, but you need to learn.”

Master was right. He had been so bad, this was helping him to get better. It was supposed to feel bad.

Not knowing what was happening around him, completely unaware of anything visual. Completely reliant on Master. That was how it should have been, anyway.

He whimpered at the memory of being left in here, blindfolded, alone. It had been so scary. He’d never longed for his Master’s touch more than that day.

“Shh, shh, I’m here.”

But with those words, Master pushed him away. Pet could no longer feel him. Panic shot through him immediately. He could hear Master walking. Was he leaving him? Of course he was, why wouldn’t he be?

The darkness was all-consuming. For a long, dreadful moment, everything was silent, save for his sobs.

Come back, please come back…

He was startled by the sound of a camera shutter.

“Poor thing,” Master hummed from… somewhere. “But god aren’t you pretty.”

He was comforted, at least, by the fact that Master was still here. Even if he couldn’t see him. Master would keep him safe. 

Master wouldn’t leave him, not again. 

He hoped.

#it feels like an eternity since ive written damage #whumptober has got me so busy lol #whumptober2020 #no.24 #blindfolded #ninjago #fic #tw dehumanization #tw creepy whumper #tw intimate whumper #tw pet whump #tw stockholm syndrome #dehumanization #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #pet whump #stockholm syndrome #damage #the damage tree #kat writes #ninjago fanfiction #koshiro

[sloppy-butcher]

Waitin’ On a Superman - Chapter 2: Living with the Flies

(The Hillbilly (Max Thompson Jr.) x female!reader)

Previous; Next 

With his hands dripping in a thick syrup mixed from blood and other unidentifiable substances, the high-pitch whining in his head finally ceased to a distant thumping. He had been granted peace at last, a reprieve from everything and everyone that had been clawing away at his mind, consuming his every waking moment with its greedy need for his attention. He was finally free, finally allowed to think clearly, finally himself, finally Max.

That's who he had claimed himself to be - Max. It was his name, his birth-right had his face not come out the way that it did, and no one could take it away. Even when the water rippled and became too murky to see through and Boy would be called on for work, Max knew he was Max and that eventually everything would settle and he would return to being just Max. It is one of the many things Max had learned since his arrival to this strange world. Everything comes in turns like how the pouring of heavy rain and hail that used to hammer on the roof of his shed - as bad as the whining would get, it would soon swallow itself up and laze its volume. And though it would never stop completely, a wish too selfish and good to be true, he found that he enjoyed every opportunity he had to think.

Right now was one of those moments, there was sacred silence in his head and he could think of anything he wanted to. He was Max and he was free to think, free to be normal. However, try as he might, his mind always trailed back to the person in the red barn. Or rather, the girl he could never seem to get rid of. 

She had been lost in the corn fields for as long as he cared to remember, forever walking to some undisclosed destination. He has crossed her path many at times before, found her mindless wandering his land like a dazed, head-less chicken, and he had dealt with her the only way he knew how - he left her for Boy to find. He would take care of this most unfortunate trespasser quickly and without much of a fuss, removing her in such a way that it hard to tell if she had ever been there at all. It was what Boy had been made to do after all, to deal with all those laughing, unwelcome people.

He supposed she had somehow gotten trapped here like he had - the corn was like a deep, sinking mud, it grabbed anyone that strayed too close and it never let go. There were no physical walls that bordered his land, not of brick or wood or stone that one could touch or climb over, but Max knew that there was something binding him to that place, he could sense them surrounding him. And her. She was trapped just like he was.

How it burned him to be stuck in the same hole as this insolent girl. This was his farm! His land! His alone and no one else's! He fought for it, through years of blood, sweat and flies, he himself reclaimed this part of the world for his own personal occupation. All he wanted was to be alone here! Safe from the eyes of the judgmental and hateful others, a sanctuary. His sanctuary. Yet here, slithering in like vermin into an open feed room, was this girl. 

When he first saw her, Max felt no remorse leaving her to the mercy of Boy. Die, he spat at her, die and never come back! Don’t you come here to laugh at me! To laugh at Max!

But after the failure of his sixth attempt to remove her stain from his fields, Max learned another lesson about this realm. Nothing stays dead, not forever at least. Even if he were to take off her head and crush her heart in his hands until it was nothing but mush under his fingernails, she would not stay that way. It was only a matter of time before she’d reassemble herself and wake as if from a deep sleep, completely normal and none-the-wiser to her previous demise. Then she’d start walking again.

Boy was beginning to get fed up with her, turning his back when confronted by her on his daily rounds rather than slaughtering her straight out. With Boy refusing to handle the trespasser, a waste of energy and time he condemned, Max begrudgingly and resentfully accepted that there was no getting rid of the wanderer in the field. He simply had to wait until she managed to squeeze her way out the fence that same way she had snuck in.

Time is the most peculiar thing to the man who never learned to read a clock. Even before Max had been taken away to this endless night-time realm where nothing aged or moved, the stars never blinking and the moon hanging lifeless in the shallow sky, he was not one able to tell when minutes turned to hours or hours to days. There was only the rise and falling of the sun and the tuning in of his T.V programs to help him navigate through the daily grind. Without these markers of passage however, he was adrift at sea, confused. Time did not exist here. Regardless, there was no denying that he did feel the weighing of age begin to get heavier and grow longer. Max knew that it had been a very, very long time since first the girl had arrived.

A thought had started to bubble in his mind whenever it would be quiet enough to think. It started as soft as the wind through an empty field then grew louder and persistent like the dripping of a leaky faucet. Eventually it became as booming and demanding as the grinding of a rusty chainsaw motor. With every passing night, Max had to put up with the thought maturing and expanding until it developed the same frequency and urgency as that of the whining.

He should try to talk to her. 

A most simple idea, when written on paper, but one that seemed completely and utterly unattainable, unfathomable, unreal in reality. Max had only spoken to one other person and it was a miserable experience to say the least. He made a personal vow then, when staring down into his mother’s mortified and busted face as her blood dripped from his clenched fist, to never utter a single word to anyone else again. People didn’t like it when he spoke, so why even try? He decided to remain a speechless monster, sparing himself the terrified looks.  And so he did - it was, of course, made easier when everyone he encountered after his oath of silence were all dead or soon to be so. The girl was the first in a very long line of lonely nights and murderous routine who had presented something of a conundrum to his vow. He couldn’t kill her so what to do now? 

He should try to talk to her. Opportunities like this don’t just fall into his lap everyday. Max, though made from mud and filth, had always the hopeful spirit. Uncrushed optimism that had only been covered in dust, untouched, but never destroyed or rotted. Maybe one day his parents would love him. Maybe one day his face won’t be so ugly. And maybe one day he could try to talk to someone like a normal human being. 

Preposterous! Unthinkable! He should just kill her! Keep killing her until eventually it sticks. Or get Boy to do it one last time. Max grumbled, hunching over with his head in his hands trying to dig out the worming voices in his ears. Though this new voice was as loud as that of the whining, it was nowhere near as painful - it didn’t make his stomach feel achy nor his chest fume with anger. Instead this voice tickled him and brought about interest of a forgotten kind. A voice that said ‘What if.’

He buries head in the dirt. Tunneling deeper into soundless soil until there would be nothing at all, digging so far down that he might lose all sense of who Max was. Anything to get away from the thought, which had now sprouted its own self-importance and action, and ground any of the daydreams that accompanied it. Oh yes, Max had started to dream about it all. In his weaker moments, he’d start imagining what it would be like talking to her. Not only that but he had started to like the fantasy, to hold on and encourage the idea of interaction like how they did on the T.V - like ordinary people. A small part of him fluttered whenever thinking about how it would go, whether that was because he feared her rejection like so many before or because, deep down, he was stupidly hopeful was a plea he did not seek to uncover. It was simply a fantasy, a dream but one that always tasted so tangible and delightful.

What if… What if…

He stumbles upon her in the corn - the very thing he had been trying to avoid entirely yet could not stop thinking about. There's an impressive silence hanging in the air as he feels his breathing hitch. She stops, her back facing him and Max knows that she has sensed him near her however refuses to react. She is quiet, completely motionless as a wind rips through the corn and between them. So close and yet so far away. He feels a rising panic in his chest like the jumping of frightened pheasants after the firing of a shotgun. It's too soon, he has no idea what to say. Hasn’t practiced anything. How would she react? Why did he care so much? Just kill her. Kill her, kill-

“I know you are there.” It was the girl who broke the inflating silence. She spoke first and her voice, ever the small and quiet thing like its master, was so ordinary and plain. Max found himself taken aback - did all people speak so distant and mundane? It was not exactly like the gnawing of his parents but it certainly was no sound from the T.V. It was just a voice, neither grand nor harsh and something he hadn’t heard in years.

“Be quick.” She answered his unsaid command. She was smart, it seemed. Somehow she knew that he was debating on killing her yet, rather than fight or show fear, she accepted it. And asked only that he would be quick and painless. A finger flexes around the trigger of his chainsaw. It was easier this way - avoid confrontation by snubbing it before it could bloom. This had already gone too far, she had actually said something to him. Acknowledged his being. It was all becoming too much for him to handle. 

“Please.” Max, at first, did not even recognize the word. He had heard it before, yes, but never directed solely at him. It was a gesture of pleading, an appeal for respect and for the saving of face in the approach of death. She had asked Max, begged him in a mellow, drawn-out tone, to do what he wanted. All without a hint of aggression, resistance or even resentment. She just sounded tired, tired beyond words. It certainly was not his parents speaking, and with knowing the outcome of attempting to cut her down, Max felt a sudden urge to act on that dream of his.

Why, on this Earth of yellow and mud, did Max mention the pigs? Of all the things he could have said, of all the ways he could have started the conversation and he just mentioned pigs. What was he thinking? The simple explanation for his outburst would be that he panicked and picked the first thing that came to mind. The long explanation would be that it was the only thing he could think of. His voice, when pushed with air, was sticky and sore and his words shook uncomfortably in his ears. But as sure as he was that whatever mutated and horrible sound he was producing would drive anyone mad, he noticed how you barely even flinched. Though small, his confidence to speak erupted at your lack of reluctance to listen. With each utterance he became bolder. With each syllable he drew closer. 

All too soon his jar ran full and threatened to overflow and Max had to think of a way to get rid of her. Tuck her away somewhere until his mind was clear again and he would think straight. Max contemplated a moment before ushering her to the red barn that had once housed Boy many, many years ago. He couldn’t stand to be near it, let alone even look at it and hurriedly pointed the girl inside. As she walked away, her back once more turned towards him, Max heard another unfamiliar phrase being directed at him.

“Thank you.” 

It was said in a heartbeat and was gone before the wind touched his face. So nonchalant she made it seem, throwing the appreciation over her shoulder like it was nothing at all. Like it carried no weight or meaning. Yet to him, it was everything. A thank you. God knows he does not deserve it - those were the forms of human kindness reserved only for the good ones. He was not one of those good ones. But she said it, offering to him her gratitude and how strange it was to wear it. 

He waited a few minutes longer, hidden perfectly in the towering corn, his brain slowly digesting the events that just happened. Not only had Max spoken to the someone, who did not hit him nor scream, but also thanked him. 

Max wanted to bathe longer in the warm glory-light of the conversation, take in and commit to memory all the little things she had said and done and how he had responded to it all. But there was a ringing in his ears, replacing all that had happened with its deafening white noise. Without fighting he turned to face the call of the void and hoped beyond anything that everything had been real and he was not dreaming again. 

#long post #dbd imagines #dbd the hillbilly #dbd the hillbilly x reader #dbd max thompson jr #dbd max thompson jr x reader #dbd x reader #hillbilly story #waiting on a superman

[guiltyscarlet]

Wish I was Heather

This guilty writing was inspired by this video >> HERE << It’s the plot I imagined behind the animation So go & check it pwease, give all the love to this animator

Check my own bnha stuff >> HERE << and >> HERE << but beware that the second one is TodoDeku !!

TRIGGER WARNING lil story below the cut contains mention of suicide baiting

Kacchan had feelings for Izu since forever. But he still valued the importance of a good quirk a lot. He felt angry at himself for liking a "deku", thinking it would only hold him back. It didn't help that to him it was clear Izu only saw him as a friend. So he pushed his feelings down & pushed Izu away, as far as he could go. He low-key wanted to make him hurt as much as he was hurt by this unrequited love, going as far as to tell him to kill himself.

Meanwhile, Izu has never been in this much pain as that day. To have this person, this special person, the one you admire so much, the most close to a friend you will ever get (they were already drifting apart at this point but Izu never made any friend, everyone ignoring him or bullying him), tell you that you should just end it all. It hurt. It hurt so much. And Izu had always been an easy crier but it was always loud. This time was different, this time, his tears were silent, flowing down his cheeks and onto his torn analysis notebook.

Then canon event happens & Izu learns he can become a hero, he gets a powerful quirk, gets accepted into UA.

Ochako is his first friend. She changes the meaning of the "deku" nickname. She builds his confidence back up. She tells him he is her inspiration. They drift closer & closer. From stranger to friends to best friends to something more.

Kacchan sees all of this happening. He never did quite forgive himself for saying those words to Izu. And even before that, for destroying their bond little by little, wasting away like a flower touched by Decay. After that day, he always kept an eye on Izu, making sure he stayed away from heights. All the while still maintaining an angry, pissed off, hatefull exterior. Fooling everyone & especially Izu that he still hated him with his whole being. Oh if only they knew, he never hated him to begin with. He watches as Izu & Uraraka become closer & closer. Sees the stolen glances, lingering touches. Witnesses Uraraka borrowing Izu's stupid t-shirts & hero sweaters. He can't help comparing himself to her. How she's so positive, always smiling,  cheering people up. When he only brings them down. How she's beautiful, inside and out. When he's rooten, consumed by envy & desire for greatness. He loses sleep, eats less and stops coming down to eat with the class on the evening altogether. Shitty hair voices his concerns but he waves him off, snaps at him. He, too, is a ray of sunshine. Eijirou does not deserve to have his light stolen, dimmed or god forbid extinguished by someone as negative, as toxic as himself. So he cuts himself from everyone.

One night, there's a soft knock on his door. It's Izu, holding a take-away bowl of Tantanmen. It's Izu, worried eyes and kind smile. Of course, Izu would help him, reach out to him even after all he put him through. That's just how kind he is. Kind, insecure, passionate, caring, beautiful Izuku. He takes the bowl from his hands and sets it gently on his desk. He turns back to Izu and this time he can't help it, can't stop the tears that slips past crimson eyes. He wants to turn away, to slam the door in Izuku's face and never mention this moment again. Hell, threaten him to never mention it again, or else... But before he can do anything, there's a strong pair of arms around him. Holding him close. Keeping him safe. Grounding him. His own shirt is getting soaked and he realizes Izuku is crying too. But even so, as he brushes away a tear, he thinks, no, he knows, that everything will be alright.

#tw suicice #tw suicide baiting #bakudeku #izuocha #one sided bakudeku #platonic bakudeku #bakudeku headcanon #bakudeku ficlet #jealous bakugou #GuiltyWriting #Shameless self promo #self promo #read the tags #multishipping-goodness #my multishipper heart #dekubowl #bnha multishipping #bakudeku angst #don't worry i'm still #tododeku trash

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Oh gosh i literally LOVE your analysis thank you. And what about Majima??

Awww, thank you very much ^^; I’ve been having a good time writing these, I”m glad people are enjoying them. And everybody’s free to ask for seconds too, if interested. *breathes deep* Hoo boy, you pulling out the big guns there. Okay lads, settle down, it’ll be awhile. 

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

I would give my life for Majima Goro. But I won’t because that would trigger him to fuck and back. Best boy, golden son, I am mad fucked up about him. I don’t even have time to explain all my feelings about Majima fucking Goro. You can tell because I can’t go a single fucking post without mentioning him. *whispers* I love him. 

ship with: Y’know how sometimes things are popular and you don’t get why? This is not one of those times. It’s cliche, but Kiryu Kazuma is the popular option here For A Reason. Like, I started Zero not knowing a fucking thing about Yakuza, as I think many do. And I wasn’t at all sure how Majima and Kiryu were going to be with each other, I had heard that they were the going ship and that seemed legit enough. Kiryu’s a nice boy, Majima’s a nice boy, they’d probably get on. But you make it through Zero and they don’t meet, not even once. They vaguely hear about each other and if they thought enough about it, they’d probably figure out that each other was holding the other half of their story, but there’s only that 5 second meeting in the epilogue, after the entire game is already fucking over and... Oh Shit. 

That, my many gendered gentry, was an imprinting in live time. 

But first, let’s back up a second, because I bet you’re all wondering about the Other important love in Majima’s life. So Makoto, Makoto... As I discussed in my Saejima post, after Anagura, Majima is living to die. That’s it, that’s his only goal in life, to get back into Tojo and wait there so his brother knows where to find him when he comes to kill him. He’s not looking for any other attachments in life. Because that’s the way Majima loves, body and soul, his whole existence dedicated around one thing. And he’s already signed himself up for sacrificing himself as repayment for Saejima’s sins and wasted years in prison. But then this... tragedy happens. This hit that isn’t a hit, this villain that’s really a victim. Everything goes wrong and Majima is left with do I commit the unthinkable to shorten my wait for my brother or do I forgo my brother’s rightful revenge to save this innocent? And Majima can’t. He can’t. 

He could never kill and he can’t turn his back on someone who needs help. And she does need him, specifically, there’s no one else. Anyone else couldn’t be trusted, or if they can be trusted, they’re dead. Majima is the only person he and Makoto can trust so he’s just here, doing his best, trying to keep her alive in the face of everything he wants and all the power and hate the underworld of Japan can offer. He would sacrifice his one goal of staying alive for his brother if it means keeping Makoto safe. Is that love? Oh yes, but not the livable kind. You don’t come back from that kind of dedication. Majima loves Makoto as gods love: completely. It is without judgment and without reason. That’s not the love of one finite person to another finite person, admitting, exploring, and cherishing all the flaws and limits therein, it’s not even the love of a parent to a child or vice versa. It is infinite love, all-consuming and all-destroying. It is not cognizant of personality, worthiness, or risk. It just is. In many ways, Majima does not know Makoto, he doesn’t see her, neither, ironically, does she see him. These are not two equals of mutual interest enjoying who each other is. This is a far less personal and far more profound experience. It’s like a calling, a quest. And it’s not something a stable relationship can be built on because it doesn’t actually have anything to do with who Makoto is in her day-to-day life or who Majima is in his embodied, finite experience. This is love as a philosophical point, as a moral decision. 

It is the greatest thing I’ve seen in my life that he lets her go. That sort of love will destroy you if you let it, it crushes your existence, your personality and sense of self, entirely into that of another. And you can’t live as a part of someone else, you cannot actually live for someone else, not sustainably, no matter how badly you want to. It’s the strongest thing I’ve ever seen done that Majima has the power to walk away from her and walk away from that sweet, blinding death. To choose a finite, flawed, embodied, but his own individual existence rather than let himself be consumed in an idea. And that they walk away from each other where they can both survive it. Where the idea of what was and what might have been doesn’t drive them into despair of all earthly, finite joys. Because who would choose to have a normal, dirty, working life where you are required each day to be an individual with your own wants and desires that are spurned and rewarded by turns of luck rather than the pure, golden existence of perfect moral agape? And I’m so glad that they walked away before they could be blinded by it, again, ironically enough. 

But the fact that Majima is capable of that level of love is truly terrifying. And then how fascinating that he walks away from it. That he chooses a harder, darker life that will have the normal range of joys and disappointments. The restraint it takes. The incredible, unbending sense of self and to decide that there are selfish, individual things worth caring about, even if you had the chance to become selfless for the rest of your life. I don’t think we talk about or think about that Majima walking away there was a moral choice. He wasn’t walking away from happiness, he was walking towards a different happiness. And, most importantly of all, even though he is still waiting to be killed by his brother, the fact that he walked away means that Majima is much healthier and much less self-destructive than he was at the beginning of Zero. He could have escaped it all if he went with her. But he doesn’t. And that fucking blows my mind.

I love that Majima grows after Zero. That his absolute nihilism changes as he allows himself to care about people again, maybe even care about himself again. Especially after Shimano’s death, he starts to develop relationships and things that he cares about as soon as it is safe to do so. He decides that he isn’t going to waste away waiting for his brother, he will live in this time, even if it has an expiration date. He will build something he cares about. And I think, in no small part, knowing Kiryu gives him the courage and the will to do so.

Because Kiryu is this shooting star in the dark night of Majima’s world. He is this mighty pillar standing amidst slag and waste. Kiryu does things that are right because they are right, with no thought to his own gain or risk. Kiryu does things that are right at tremendous personal risk and will fight through people trying to stop him. And Kiryu will win. Not only does Kiryu agree with the way Majima thinks and feels but, mother of god, eh actually has the power and strength to survive. 

Think about that. You’re Majima Goro and every day since you became yakuza, you have been kicked down, tortured, and abused just because you wanted to do the right thing. You have watched countless friends, allies, and enemies be shot and killed in front of you because they were trying to do the right thing. You have no choice but to do right in the secret places of your heart, to do good only in ways that can never be traced back to you, in ways no one would confuse for being good, kind things. Because it will get you killed, or worse, it will get the people around you killed. It’s not paranoia, you’ve seen it happen, your nightmares are filled to the brim with the blood and horror or good people dying just because they were good and it’s your fault, it’s all your fault because you didn’t warn them, you let them get close, you let them see you were a good person and you can NEVER. EVER. let that happen to anyone again. 

And then there’s Kiryu. Stupid, mutton-headed freak with the arms of a lumberjack and a heart as white as lilies. He’ll be dead tomorrow, you know it. He’s too good, he’s too kind, and he’s not afraid. He’s not damn near afraid enough. He has no idea what’s waiting out there to snap him to pieces. But he’s there tomorrow. Not even a scratch on him, still standing, still strong. You try to warn him, you try to beat him in a way he can survive so that he learns to never try to be good again. But he beats you. He actually fucking beats you and what the fuck are you supposed to do with that? He’ll still die anyway, there’s no way he’ll live where so many have been slaughtered. And he’s still there tomorrow. You pester him, you follow him, you watch him closely, to see what he does, who he is, how is it he’s still alive? It must be some trick, he’s either not as good as you think he is or not as strong or, or... something! Because it’s impossible, it’s impossible that anyone could, that anyone could... 

And he smiles. He smiles at you, like he can see right down to that tiny, beating, pure heart you’re trying every second to wrap in barbed wire. And you’re done. You’re fucking done for. He smiles and... it’s all fucking over. Whatever happens now, whether he dies or lives, it’s too late. He’s everything you ever wanted and it breaks you that he, somehow, wants you too. Because who would smile at you if they didn’t know you? Oh, he’s dumb as rocks still, but... the way he looks at you, in those moments when you fuck up, in those moments that if someone was watching, they would see you. And he sees you. And worse, he thinks he likes it. And... oh god. You love him. This will all end in tears. 

But it doesn’t. Kiryu’s alive and the same and that’s... that’s wonderful. And that’s the love of two people, two people who see each other and know each other and, god help them, like each other. Despite it all, the risk and worry and the problems, they just... get along. That’s why I ship it. 

(I also ship Kiryu/Majima/Tachibana sometimes and we’ll save my essay on that for an entirely different post.)

brotp: Saejima Taiga, obvs. I will not repeat my sentiments on why that’s the brotp here, there’s the Saejima post for that. But I also put Nishida and Kage right up there as Majima’s best bros. You got Nishida out here doing his best to keep his boss from dying and facilitating Majima’s ridiculous courtship ploys and trying to articulate Majima’s feelings for him when Majima Won’t because Nishida cares So Fucking Much about Majima. And he knows that Mjima hates it when people care about him, he knows Majima actively does tno want you to like him but... Nishida’ worked with him for too long not to know what a good, kind person Majima really sis, even if he’s trying his best not to show it. And god damn it, but Nishida’s not going to let him live in misery when he’s got a heart of gold like that. 

And Kage too, he and Majima look out for each other. They enjoy the odd cage match and a morose drink of fine liquor. They’ve both seen tragedy in their lives and Kage tries his best to convince Majima not to give up all hope. That Kiryu boy, he really likes him. Even Kage can see it. He’d be happy to... no, no, alright. Just thought he’d say. 

Because Majima has that effect on people. He makes friends wherever he goes because he’s a good time, he’s generous and kind and has a knack for picking up people who are down. And he’d do anything for you if you didn’t have a friend in the world. He has so much love to gives and slowly, slowly, with time and healing, with the death of Shimano and the return of his brother, slowly Majima is allowed to feel safe in loving people once more. And it warms everyone’s heart to see him happy and whole with a family and friends. Everyone he’s touched just wants him to be okay, after all he’s done for the world, please, just give him this little bit. It’s all he ever wanted.

general opinions: I Am Love. I LOvE HiM. I lOVe. I LOOOOOOOOOOOVE. I Love HIm. *sobs*

#Majima Goro #There's more to say. There always is. But I'll cut it there for today #Yakuza #ask Lemon #blurred-voices