pain--is--acceptance

moon signs and their difficulties

Moon in Aries: control, whether it be of yourself, of others, or events in your life

Moon in Taurus: getting too caught up with something that troubles you, holding grudges that make you feel weighed down

Moon in Gemini: confusion, of what you want, how you feel, or what you’re doing in life

Moon in Cancer: having your heart rule your head, causing you to act out of pure emotion instead of rationalizing 

Moon in Leo: the fragility of your emotions and putting a tough front to guard them, scaring others away

Moon in Virgo: pushing yourself too hard, and fearing that if you stop your work will be for nothing

Moon in Libra: caring too much about the opinions of others, finding yourself trying to impress everyone

Moon in Scorpio: not being able to accept pains from the past or a current insecurity within your life

Moon in Sagittarius: feeling as if there is no true home for you, or that you will never find what it is you are looking for in life

Moon in Capricorn: fear of expressing your emotions, as others could take advantage of you

Moon in Aquarius: feeling alienated and isolated, as if you don’t belong in your current setting

Moon in Pisces: having extreme difficulty keeping your head from wandering, feeling tortured by your never-ending “what ifs”

The signs as WTNV proverbs

Aries: “There’s a difference between your, you’re, and yarn. Yarn isn’t even pronounced the same way. It’s a completely different word.”

Taurus: “Knock, knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? Orange you glad I didn’t say your mother’s in the hospital? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Listen, I’ll drive you over there. We’ll leave right now. Grab a coat, it’s a little cold out. I’m so sorry.”

Cancer: “You won’t sleep when you’re dead, either.”

Leo: “At your smallest components, you are indistinguishable from a forest fire.”

Virgo: “You can’t get blood from a turnip. Listen you need some blood? I can totally get you some blood. Set that turnip down and follow me to the blood. There’s a lot of blood.”

Sagittarius: “Ignore all the haters telling you that everything isn’t a sandwich. Everything is a sandwich.”

Aquarius: “Feeling lost? Like you have no goal in life? Like you’re covered in dirt and wet leaves? Like you’re an earthworm? Are you an earthworm? Kinda sounds like you’re an earthworm, actually.“

Capricorn: “Soccer is also commonly known as football, Canadian baseball, American football, violent jogging, and World War II.”

Gemini: “Everything that happens, happens for a reason. Except ostriches. What the hell, man?

Libra:  “Please keep all arms and legs inside the car at all times. Also, you are under arrest. Why is your car full of limbs? Whose are these?”

Pisces:  “Listen, I’m not a hero. The real heroes are the people that point out to us when protesters have smart phones, thus invalidating all concerns.”

Scorpio: “Thank you for your interest in a life free of pain. We are not accepting applications at this time. Please try again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again…”

Batman vs Superman was over two hours of two men bickering over who has the biggest brooding cock-I mean, who has the better method of "saving" people and whether or not it's ok for Batman to beat and brand criminals without regarding the fact that not everyone's as wealthy and privileged as his morally upright ass and for Superman to ignore the fact that not everyone's as indestructible as him, meanwhile Wonder Woman over here...

Ok.

Wonder Woman was vastly superior to bvs for two reasons.

-Wonder Woman is actually a likable lady and an idealistic believable super hero who doesn’t spend her entire moving thinking about how she COULD help people.

She charges in, headfirst, wanting to help people she doesn’t even KNOW because she wants to protect the people who’re dying.

-and Wonder Woman was just so much more subtle and less pretentious about its message.

Seriously.

Let’s talk.

Wonder Woman’s CHARACTER is not that she’s cold and heartless and…well, masculine.

She doesn’t EMULATE men.

She doesn’t need to act like a man to be strong.

She coos at a baby and kisses Chris Pine and doesn’t spend the entire movie ragging on women.

She dresses and acts feminine, and embodies kindness, grace, beauty, everything “feminine.”

And she’s also strong as fucking hell.

That is Wonder Woman.

She’s a good person.

She’s not some cold warrior goddess, an untouchable female shaped ideal.

She’s GENUINELY KIND.

She sees people suffering in the trenches and her first thought it, stop what we’re doing, we gotta help.

Chris pine and all of his men?

They’ve seen all of this.

They’ve hardened themselves to the horrors of war and accepted them as inevitable.

But Diana, new to the cruelty of the human world, is disgusted and she asks what’s wrong with you?

What is wrong with us?

We have accepted casualties. We have accepted pain.

We have excused suffering because we told ourselves long ago that we couldn’t do anything about it.

But Diana?

She does not accept that.

She fights, yes. She’s ferocious and she, unlike Batman, doesn’t have a compulsion against killing.

She was raised by warrior women, I mean come on.

But who does she fight for?

The women and children who did nothing wrong.

The injured, hopeless men fighting a war to end all wars.

The entire movie was lovely because all of Diana’s bewilderment at the way humans live was incredible.

She’s shocked at how dirty London is.

She’s not impressed by sex and she’s not impressed by war.

She thinks sexism is strange.

But she doesn’t like, rag on it, because Diana is literally so above it that she just wryly questions it at times.

Like I don’t care what all the whiny fanboys say.

There’s not an overt feminist message in this movie.

There’s no “men are so weak.”

There’s “men are corruptible” but as we see, Diana sees them as worth saving in the end, if only to fulfill her own ideals…

Which is feminist as fuck, I guess, because Diana doesn’t defend men because it’s her job.

She defends them because it’s her decision. Her morality. Her duty.

But the feminism in the movie comes from the fact that she’s so kind.

She breaks down when realizing that Ares isn’t behind it all, that MEN are the ones who are cruel to one another.

She sees the war and it’s only senseless violence to her.

All of the people she wants to help are the victims, and it’s clear cut, to her, who’s bad and who’s not.

But Chris Pine helps her realize that humans aren’t so clear cut.

And so even though she was disgusted by human actions, she still wanted to help the people in need.

I absolutely adore the scene where she’s charging across a battle field to pave the way to the town.

First off, it was so badass watching her knock aside artillery like it was nothing as the men cowered in the pits.

Second, SHE SAW THAT PEOPLE WERE SUFFERING AND SHE DIDNT CALCULATE.

She didn’t do a Batman, where she looked at the risks vs the benefits vs the needs of the many and the few.

She just charged in and did what she could.

Chris Pine told her she couldn’t do anything except help him with his plan, in order to stop the war and save them indirectly.

But Diana is a true warrior with the heart of a lion, man.

She helped them directly, with no nonsense, no politicizing, no planning, just action.

At the end she says love will save humanity?

That’s the kind of feminism Wonder Woman was embodying.

Wonder Woman wasn’t this lone independent operator who sneers at men who try to involve themselves in her business.

She was helped and supported by men, but it was clear that she was the star, the true hero who brought them and their plans together but also gave them a new hope, a new heart.

They were jaded by helplessness and mortal frustration, forced to fight to stand stills and accept human deaths.

She came and showed them something miraculous and wonderful: her power.

But not used to beat someone’s head in with a fucking sink.

Used to do good.

To fight for her morals, which aren’t corrupted by the human world’s greyness, not yet.

I loved this movie.

I loved this movie so much.

DC finally did good and we can stop pretending suicide squad and Batman vs superman were good.

Wonder Woman is the good DC movie.

Don’t even try to tell me BVS was better than Wonder Woman because if you genuinely believe that, either out of pride and obstinacy from all your bickering with marvel fans or out of delusional worshipping of anything DC, then I think you just like watching people beat people in slow motion and uncomfortably lofty , corporate-cut and stylized plots as interesting as watching a landscape time lapse.

Suicide squad was cut to bits by its editors, BVS suffered from some severe Snyder wanking, and justice league, I don’t know, we’ll see.

But Wonder Woman?

Best DC movie since dark knight.

God bless Patty.

I knew we needed a woman in charge to get the job done.

Now direct all sexist comments and sneering remarks about feminazis destroying your precious super hero genre with their “love” themes to my inbox where they’ll be lovingly deleted.

The thing you have to understand about deep sadness is – it’s a form of pain. It’s emotional pain and it is just as real and just as detrimental as physical pain, except that it’s harder to treat and it often lasts longer.
It’s one of those things that you can so easily fall into and never climb out of. It traps you, it isolates you… and people don’t understand it. They try… but they get frustrated or hurt when they don’t seem to make a difference after a while. For some reason physical pain is far more accepted by other people because there’s often evidence of it they can physically see like a wound or a scar, whereas emotional pain is looked upon as self-indulgent or just a plain old negative attitude.
I wish it was something people could see so they could understand it better… It would be so much easier if that heaviness you feel was a physical thing, like literal baggage you had to carry around with you instead of just the emotional kind… Because if it was something sizable that physically weighed you down, people could understand why it’s so hard to get out of bed in the morning.
It would be so much easier if sadness caused your face to dry out and go brittle… just so it would crack and bleed whenever you smiled. Perhaps then people would see how much it hurts when everyone else around you to laughs and smiles and you feel you have to as well so you can fit in.
Or perhaps if sadness caused your eyesight to darken and happiness was a blinding light that burnt your eyes if you suffered from it, people would understand why we so often look away or avoid happy people altogether.
But it’s one of those things nobody can see and you can never put into words for anybody else to understand but you – and that is precisely why it is so isolating. Sometimes the most helpful and understanding thing somebody can do for you is simply accept that you suffer from something they can’t understand, and not expect more than you’re capable of. I know that without physical evidence, deep sadness is difficult to understand… but acceptance is just as helpful. To know that how you’re feeling is accepted by somebody – even if they don’t understand it – takes away that constant pressure to pretend to be how you think people want you to be so you can focus your energy into healing at your own pace.
MBTI types as Night Vale proverbs

istj: “There’s a difference between your, you’re, and yarn. Yarn isn’t even pronounced the same way. It’s a completely different word.”

isfj: “Knock, knock. Who’s there? Orange. Orange who? Orange you glad I didn’t say your mother’s in the hospital? I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do? Listen, I’ll drive you over there. We’ll leave right now. Grab a coat, it’s a little cold out. I’m so sorry.”

infj: “You won’t sleep when you’re dead, either.”

intj: “At your smallest components, you are indistinguishable from a forest fire.”

istp: “You can’t get blood from a turnip. Listen you need some blood? I can totally get you some blood. Set that turnip down and follow me to the blood. There’s a lot of blood.”

isfp: “Ignore all the haters telling you that everything isn’t a sandwich. Everything is a sandwich.”

infp: "Feeling lost? Like you have no goal in life? Like you’re covered in dirt and wet leaves? Like you’re an earthworm? Are you an earthworm? Kinda sounds like you’re an earthworm, actually.“

intp: "Soccer is also commonly known as football, Canadian baseball, American football, violent jogging, and World War II.”

estp: “You can lead a horse to water, and you can lead a horse into water, and you can swim around with the horse and have fun.”

esfp: “On this day in history: mundanity, and terror, and food, and love, and trees.”

enfp: “If you love something, set it free. If it starts flying around and chirping, it was probably a bird.”

entp: “Everything that happens, happens for a reason. Except ostriches. What the hell, man?”

estj:  “Please keep all arms and legs inside the car at all times. Also, you are under arrest. Why is your car full of limbs? Whose are these?”

esfj:  “Listen, I’m not a hero. The real heroes are the people that point out to us when protesters have smart phones, thus invalidating all concerns.”

enfj: “Thank you for your interest in a life free of pain. We are not accepting applications at this time. Please try again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again…”

entj: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single command from a satellite-activated mind control chip.”

tony stark is so fucking impressive, man. like, all the shit that keeps happening to him and, he struggles, he’s in pain, but he never accepts his fate, he picks himself up, rebuilds himself, better and stronger, and just, it hurts him so fucking much, but he keeps going, you know? i have one semi-formal appointment in two weeks and want to crawl into a hole and die of misery because it feels like the world is ending. just, tony stark, man.

Your skin is your skin. Your legs are your legs. Your hair is your hair. Your smile is your smile. Your past is your past. You can waste your life hating these things, but you may as well learn to accept them. Both routes are difficult and full of pain, but with acceptance, you will be happy one day, while with hatred, you never will.
—  Vironika Tugaleva

anonymous asked:

Have you ever been through heart break, and if so how did you heal? It's been three years of me trying to move on and I don't know if I'll ever be okay.

Yes I have. The secret is literally living healthy. By that I mean to love yourself by feeling every single emotion out. Don’t ignore how you feel, feel the pain, vent, cry it out, accept it and then love yourself unconditionally. There must be a part of the process that you have missed and that is okay. It’s never too late to go through it. But I guarantee that once you do go through that, you will once again discover the feeling of true happiness. That is the meaning of living healthy.

Marrying Ivar would include;

Originally posted by whenimaunicorn

On request of an anon, here it is, first time for everything

  • That marriage wasn’t set on love, therefor he will curse that day because he likes to think he is an independent strong male that doesn’t need a wife
  • Until you kiss him at the end of the ceremony and that just breaks something inside of him
  • Him following you all day long, constantly watching you, touching you, showing everybody you are his
  • Him being dominant in public, there is nobody talking or dancing with you without his permission
  • Given he can’t please a woman he grows uncertain when you both are around the bed
  • You showing him your body, showing him your sweet spots, give him the feeling of lust and love until he learns he can actually please a woman
  • After he found that out, there is no stopping him, he will demand you on every time, want you on every possible place and wait for you to get home in the bed
  • Him always kissing you awake, or better … touching you awake
  • You always being gentle in waking him up, telling him you love him, want him
  • Him refusing to admit he is in pain and therefore not accepting your help
  • You always being there for him, to tend his wounds, to care for his body and soul
  • Him being very protective. He is willing on killing for you, in fact, he would love to kill for you
  • Him always keeping you out of danger, thinking you are all fragile and sorts he wants to keep the one thing safe for which he feels something
  • And when you finally find a change to prove yourself he will be very proud of the strong woman he married
  • Him always rewarding you in some kind of a way
  • Him always being jealous to
  • Him learning you how to defend yourself, how to fight, how to conquer
  • Him being turned on by the side of seeing you battle and raid aside him
  • In fact, he would be turned on by a lot of things actually, your morning voice, when you moan, when you whisper his name, taking an argument up to defend him, holding a sword or axe, he just loves to see you work and move
  • Therefore he is always eager to explore your body, kissing every inch, touching every inch, taking you over borders you never been before
  • Him always being eager to prove you wrong, you on your part would be that to
  • For that you would play a lot of games together, the bad and the good
  • You braiding his hair
  • Him braiding yours but never admit,  confess or show his gently loving side to anybody except for you
  • His dominant side will conquer everything, he always wants to show you that, when you talk, during sex, even in a fight
  • Except for when you get pregnant, then everything changes, he will demand you to rest, he would kiss your belly, taking care of your body and accept that child as the one thing he excepted to never had
  • Him not talking about his feelings
  • Him being moody from time to time and you handling that
  • Him turning you to a badass fierce, secure wife
  • You on your end make him even better in what he is doing because … love conquers all
Blue and White Blossoms

@sir-scandalous this is the hanahaki Shance au I mentioned, it was written a few months ago, and I pretty much forgot about it until you mentioned hanahaki disease in a post, and I remembered I wrote something for a hanahaki au. I posted it and hope you like it! 

It might be awful, I’m not the best author.



Lance sat on the observation deck, watching the stars and universe. It was once a dream, to go into space, and to travel the universe… Lance winced as his chest suddenly burst into flames nearly, it hurt, but it was gone just as quickly. He blinked at the stars, something he’s used to seeing so often now.

He managed to go into space, along with his team and rival, and his hero. Thrown into a war they didn’t know about, something ten thousand years in process. Fighting for the fate of the universe, to protect their home planet and many others, most of which had no idea they were even doing it.

It made Lance’s eyes burn with the beginning of tears, and he blinked them back. He was afraid of someone seeing him cry, of seeing his facade dropped. He wasn’t really useful, or talented, but the least he could do is keep the team together, happy and laughing, even if it means he will be hurt in the process and he would suffer in the dark, quiet and hidden.

Lance also knew he was far too self-sacrificing, taking on the anger of the others to keep them from fighting with themselves, hiding his pain and accepting others to bring out smiles. He knew it was not good to do it, but he was far too much like his oldest sister, too self-sacrificing and willing to suffer for others.

Ah, not good… Lance grimaced as he felt his eyes blur, wiping his tears, Lance stiffened as footsteps echoed in the halls, getting closer to him. Blinking away tears and plastering a fake smile, though he could feel he wasn’t doing to good at it, Lance kept his eyes locked on the stars, the footsteps stopped at the entrance, as if he surprised whomever it was he was there.

Well, of course he did, he shouldn’t be up so late anyways. Lance turned and blinked at the figure who had stopped in the doorway.

“Lance? What are you doing up?” Shiro asked, continuing to walk up to him. Lance almost flinched when the pain returned to his chest.

“Ah, Shiro. I couldn’t sleep, figured I would watch the stars.” Lance laughed as he looked out to the stars again, he was afraid to look at Shiro, he was found in a weak spot and he didn’t want Shiro to notice. He wasn’t a fool, he knew Shiro was more observant than he let on, and that was dangerous.

“Oh?” Shit, Shiro didn’t believe him “I hope you don’t mind me joining you” Shiro said and Lance nodded, trying to act tired to make up for his lack of boisterous nature.

Lance stared out at the stars and found his mind turning to his previous thoughts, his older sister Mira. He was very close to her and- Shaking his head discreetly, Lance forced his thoughts away, to talking with Blue, or teasing Pidge.

“Lance? You ok?” Shiro asked and Lance jumped a bit, Shiro was looking at him, trying to see his face. Lance blinked back more tears and turned to flash Shiro a smile.

“Of course!” Lance said, pulling on as much bravado as he could, but he was tired from holding up his mask all day, he hadn’t expected anyone to come into the observatory so he wasn’t prepared to throw it back up again.

“Lance.” Shiro was using that tone, Lance knew it too well, it wasn’t the Lance, enough tone, it was the I’m not that easy to fool, so start talking tone. He’s used it on Lance plenty enough times, but Lance always managed to escape it. No one was around to make a distraction, he couldn’t pick a fight with Keith, or use Hunk as a way of escape.

“I miss home.” Lance said, not entirely telling the truth. Shiro’s eyes softened as he nodded, Lance couldn’t help the feeling in his chest as he realized just how deep in love he was, and just how bad that was.

“We all do… It’s ok to be homesick, we all are. Protecting home is important too.” Shiro said and Lance bit his tongue to keep from lashing out, he was getting irritated, but he knew he shouldn’t be. He wasn’t used to being worried over, it was weird because he was so used to keeping people from noticing, he’s forgotten what it’s like.

“I-I know… I’m not going to leave, I just… feel bad for worrying my family, they have no idea where I am.” Lance said, before shaking his head and letting out a laugh, though it sounded empty to his own ears.

“Lance…”

“I’m fine, just tired is all.” Lance said, standing up and backing away a bit. Shiro stood up as well, and when he reached out to set a comforting hand on Lance’s shoulder, Lance fled.

“Good night Shiro.” Lance said, before turning tail and nearly running from the room. He heard Shiro mutter a ‘good night’ too, but he had been so focused on getting away he didn’t register it much.

Making it to his room, Lance sat on his bed and closed his eyes, clutching his chest as it became difficult to breathe. Lance coughed suddenly, it hurt and burned as he violently tried to expel whatever was in his lungs.

Lance blinked at the handful of petal in his hand, a few violet ones and white petals, blood was with them. Not much blood, but there was still some. A little blood dripped from his chin and Lance used his free hand to wipe it off as he let out a laugh.

Lance knew it was possible, despite how rare it was. He seen it happen, and now, he get’s to learn more about it… Because the seeds have already been planted.

Now they’re blooming, and things are going to get difficult.


Lance had always been told he was so much like Mira, too self-sacrificing and too quick to take the pain of others. Too thoughtful, too selfless, too much kindness and not enough selfishness.

He was too much like his beloved oldest sister, too quick to make people happy, no matter how much it hurt…

Now he was even more like her, falling in love and it being unrequited. Too sentimental to give up his feeling of love, and too selfless to tell anyone about it in fear it becomes requited because of it.

Hanahaki.

Laughing bitterly, Lance crushed the flowers in his hand as he shook his head, tears falling. His love would not be requited, there was no possibility, and because he knew that, and accepted it, they bloomed.

Shoving the flowers into a drawer, Lance cleaned his hands before running one hand through his hair. He knew it was foolish, he was too selfless to fall in love, too quick to accept his fate, too dearly holding on to something knows he can’t have.

Maybe that’s why he laughed, knowing he couldn’t fix it. He knew when the seeds were planted, he knew it, because he knew his feelings, so he knew when they started.

Coughing more, Lance stuffed more flowers into the drawer, wiping his hands on his black flight suit. Sitting on his bed, Lance recalled the day he found out Mira had Hanahaki.

Lance sighed as he finally got home, he managed to escape his bullies. Mira was visiting and he was excited to see her. She had been seeming down lately, her skin grew paler, she lost her bright smiles and grins, and she began to lock herself away. She was coming home more often though, and he he tried to make her happy, telling her stories and adventures he had just to get her to laugh, because she was pretty when she laughed.

He was happy to see her, he never really asked about her, because his Mama and Papa would grow sad. So he kept quiet and waited for the times she would visit.

Running inside, he set his bag down and ran towards her room to see if she was already there, only to stop at gagging in the bathroom. Quietly peeking through the crack in the door, to see his beloved sister vomiting in the toilet. He went in to rub her back and hold her hair back, he did it for his other sisters when they were sick, and some of his long haired brothers. It always made him feel better to know he could help out, even if it was just a little.

“Hermana?” Lance whispered, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw her vomiting up flowers and blood… Lots of it. He panicked and rushed to her, hugging her and sobbing, all the while she cried and hugged him close, whispering in a hoarse voice about how sorry she was.

Two months later, Lance came home and looked for his sister, she began living with them again, only to find her collapsed on the floor, blood and flowers pooled around her body.

“Mama! Mama! Mira, Mama, Mira!” Lance frantically called his mother, who rushed home to find him wailing and hugging his sister. The flowers grew and wrapped around her lungs in vines and blossoms, filling them and tearing them open, while crushing her ribs. She suffocated on the flowers and blood, dying at the delicate age of 23.

It killed Lance inside.

“Lance! Wake up!” Hunk called through the door and Lance jumped, he hadn’t realized he had been so lost in his memories. Tears fell down his cheeks and he was shaking, wiping his eyes Lance frantically shut the drawer with the petals in it. Mira died long ago, twelve years ago, and… He might just join her.

Standing up, Lance put on his armor and left his room, meeting Hunk in the hallway. He missed breakfast so Hunk came to check on him. Lance smiled confidently as he patted Hunk’s shoulder, playing his normal overconfident self.

“Sorry Hunk, Beauty sleep is important!” Lance boasted as Hunk lead him to the kitchen. Him and Hunk talking as normal, the day going by like every other. Training, talking, bonding.

Of course, Lance limited his interactions with Shiro the best he could, because he loved him. It was a horrible thing to know it would never be requited, and he almost got over his feelings for the slightly older teen, only to suddenly help save him and be trapped on the same ship with him. He hid his feelings so well, at least, until he acknowledged he wouldn’t have his feelings returned.

Then the flowers bloomed and his chest began to burn and contract. It got worse the more Shiro smiled and praised, the more Shiro touched him, the more he looked at Shiro.

It hurt, so so much. He wouldn’t let anyone know, and always brushed off their concern with a joke or snarky comment. Shiro would look at him suspiciously, after running into him on the observation deck, Lance never returned, instead hanging out in Blue’s hangar.

Shiro obviously knew Lance was limiting their interactions, and he didn’t look pleased at all. Lance laughed and joked with Hunk, teased Pidge, and bickered with Keith as usual during lunch, but then Shiro walked in and Lance’s chest constricted painfully, the more he was around Shiro, the more his love solidified and the more flowers grew, constricted, and filled his lungs. Lance rubbed his chest, trying to make it seem unsuspicious, before he excused himself from lunch.

“I’m heading to visit Blue.” Lance said as he stood up, Shiro had been there for a few minutes, but the pain was getting bad, the disease was getting worse. Standing up, Lance quickly turned and left the room, aware someone was following him. Turning, Lance tensed, it was Hunk and the look on Hunk’s face told Lance this wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“Lance, you feeling ok?” Hunk asked and Lance went to sigh, but leaned against the wall with a shoulder as he coughed harshly into his hands, eyes widening at the horrible timing, blood poured into his hand, as well as a bunch of petals, blue and white. Hunk gasped in horror.

“Lance! You have Hanahaki?” Hunk cried and Lance looked around, glad no one seemed to hear, because no one came rushing up.

“Hunk shh! It’s fine.” Lance said as he stuffed the flowers and blood into his pocket. Hunk opened his mouth to argue, but Lance shook his head. “Please Hunk, don’t tell anyone.”

“Who? Who is it?” Hunk asked and Lance frowned, he couldn’t tell Hunk it was Shiro. If Shiro knew, he would reciprocate his feelings, and Lance would feel like shit. Hunk set a comforting hand on Lance’s back as they leaned against the wall, Hunk partially blocked Lance from the end of the hallway where the kitchen was. The comforting affection and trust in him had Lance breaking, he couldn’t lie to Hunk anymore, he couldn’t do that to his best friend.

“I-It's… It’s Shiro.” Lance whispered, and Hunk blinked before he began to hug Lance closer. “I didn’t think I fell so hard. It’s… It started blooming when I realized I couldn’t be with him, it… It wasn’t possible.”

“This is going to be just like-” Hunk swallowed heavily, the weight of it hitting him. “Just like Mira…” Lance just nodded, and it was quiet before Hunk took a deep breath and sighed.

“Ok… I won’t tell anyone. But if they find out on their own, I’m not covering.”

“Thank you Hunk.” Lance whispered, leaning into Hunk as he wrapped him in an embrace, Lance loved Hunk’s hugs, it was comforting and warm. It felt safe, even with him dying. It hurt so much more to force his best friend to keep his feelings hidden, the chest pressure and pain was horrible, but he hated doing this to Hunk.

“You know, now I’m dying in a beautiful way.” Lance joked dryly and Hunk groaned as he tightened his grip. Hunk was a great friend, and though he knew Hunk would be distraught about Lance refusing to confess to Shiro, he still would keep his promise. The cure was right there, and Lance refused it, and it was going to kill Hunk inside.

“Please don’t joke about this… Never something this serious.” Hunk said and Lance nodded, before he was released and Hunked watched him go to the Blue lion’s hangar. Lance spent a lot of time there, Hunk often seen him sitting with the Blue lion and talking to her, sometimes he was in the Blue lion, sometimes just polishing her metal. The two were close, even Coran and Allura admitted that Lance and Blue had an unusually strong bond, even for the blue lion being the one of loyalty, bravery, and courage.

Hunk sighed as he turned to go back to the kitchen, blinking a bit in surprise as Shiro stepped out, nearly bumping into him.

“Oh, Hunk. Is Lance ok?” Shiro asked and Hunk nodded, smiling as he rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, Lance is ok. Just a little homesick is all.” Hunk said, turning and going into the kitchen, he was a terrible liar, and if he didn’t get away, he’d break his promise to Lance.


Shiro noticed it more during training, a while after Hunk found out. He had been noticing Lance was seemingly ignoring him, only talking with him when it came to missions, training, or when Shiro scolded him. Lance wasn’t joking around or just talking with him anymore, and it hurt.

Lance had been sparring with Keith when he had jolted, and slid around Keith before dropping his bayard and bolting from the room.

“Bathroom.” was all he choked out as Keith blinked in surprise and the others confusedly looked at each other. Hunk worriedly watched the door, Shiro nearly chased him down, but decided to wait.

It was nearly twenty minutes before Lance finally came back, his eyes were slightly puffy and his hair was ruffled a bit, most likely from running his hands through it. Lance looked pale, and that’s extremely worrying because the teen was normally tan. Lance laughed off their concern his hands stuffed into the pockets of his armor.

Keith grouched at Lance for running off in the middle of their spar, poking at Lance for being afraid, and Lance pointed a dark, kind of damp looking, gloved hand at Keith saying something about Keith’s mullet making him sick.

Shiro sighed and broke up the impending argument, catching on to the quick dodge Lance made to avoid Shiro’s touch. Turning and huffing, Lance turned to Hunk. Nothing was said, but Hunk smiled and Lance grinned back, something didn’t feel right and Shiro resisted the urge to force Lance to speak up. There was something he was missing.

If it was serious, Lance would say something. He never hesitated to say anything before.

“Let’s continue.” Lance said, turning back to Keith after retrieving his bayard. Shiro watched in concern as Lance sparred with Keith, he was hiding something, and it was bothering Shiro…

More frustrating, Lance was avoiding Shiro.

~

Shiro didn’t want to bring it up, and he kept telling himself Lance would tell him eventually. Lance, however, continued to joke around and play it off, avoiding him, and coughing into his hand and dismissing it. Shiro admitted that if it wasn’t for the slight red on Lance’s hand, Shiro may have let it be.

Lance hid it well, frighteningly well that if he hadn’t caught on to something being wrong, he wouldn’t have known. Anytime someone brought up his cough, he would brush it off with his usual overconfidence and bravado. Shiro kept telling himself that if it was serious, Lance would tell him, but the way Lance has been avoiding their interactions made it clear he wouldn’t. So when Lance suddenly got up from dinner, spewing some excuse and bolting, Shiro followed him.

Lance had run to the bathroom and was crouched to to the toilet, huffing and coughing. Lance laughed weakly as he ran a shaking hand through his hair.

“Haha, figures…ack.” Shiro flinched when Lance started coughing, and vomiting, the sound of liquid hitting the toilet made Shiro worry. At first, he sounded like he had a space flu or something, but then Lance leaned back on his heels and put his slightly red stained hands on his knees, and Shiro caught sight of the blood splatters on the toilet seat and flower petals. Frozen in horror, Shiro watched as Lance suddenly threw himself over the toilet again and began vomiting more blood and petals, a lot of it.

“Lance?!” Shiro yelled as he rushed up, Lance’s eyes widening in horror at the sight of Shiro. “What’s going on?!” Shiro demanded and Lance scrambled and flushed the toilet, and blocked the blood on the seat as he faced Shiro.

“Nothing! It’s just the space flu!” Lance said quickly, and Shiro floundered for a minute, he didn’t actually know what space flu looked like, but this didn’t seem right.

Lance.” Shiro knew his sounded angry, and Lance flinched before standing up and shoving his hands in his pocket, his tense shoulders relaxed as Lance sighed, though it sounded rough. Lance could feel the barbs and vines in his throat and lungs.

“Seriously Shiro, it’s just the space flu, I didn’t say anything because it’ll just pass.” Lance said and Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose in anger, and to hide his hurt. He hated that Lance was hiding something from him, he may not know what the space flu looked like but something in the back of his head was telling him- screaming at him not to believe what Lance was saying, that something wasn’t right.

“I-Next time, you better tell what the hell is really going on.” Shiro said, his voice was intimidating and Lance looked away as Shiro stormed out of the bathroom, too angry to stay there and too afraid to let his hurt show and cause a problem. He was angry that Lance was lying to him, afraid that Lance didn’t trust him, it made his chest ache and burn.

Lance sagged on the bathroom floor, weakly breathing as tears welled up in his eyes. Brushing them away, he cleaned the blood up and the flowers, before making his way to his room. Lance was relieved that Shiro didn’t seem to remember what Hanahaki was, but he was also disgusted in himself for being caught.

“What am I supposed to do? I’m a fool.” Lance whispered to no one as he fell onto his back, the soft and comforting Altean mattress didn’t help his despair. Lance curled into himself and cried, quiet sobs and his body wracking in pain. The flowers blooming in his chest making it hard to breathe.

He was hurting everyone he loved, this disease was horrible. It was getting harder to hide, but now that Shiro knew, Lance was terrified everyone else would know. Blinking his teary eyes, Lance couldn’t stop the horrible memories from getting to him.

Mira coughing up blood and flowers, Angela starting to as well before being put into surgery. Lance threw and arm over his eyes as he let out a watery chuckle, though his chest burned and tightened.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, he wasn’t going to have his feelings removed with the flowers. It was horrible. Angela never truly loved after that, and the one she loved never connected to her again, their bond ruined by the feelings being taken. He couldn’t risk ruining the bond, however fragile it must be now, with Shiro.

He couldn’t risk it, only hope that he could last long enough to do his duty until his death. Lance’s blue eyes dripped tears, locked onto the ceiling as he bitterly laughed, though it hurt terribly.

“It’s unfair.” His muttered, the beautiful flowers that fell from his lips, white hydrangeas and blue wisteria blossoms. Unfairly beautiful signs of his upcoming death. He always hated Hanahaki, it took Mira, shattered his family, stole an important bond from little Angela. She was only twelve, she didn’t deserve such a fate at a young age.

Sleep stole him away, into a darkness too terrifyingly familiar. Hospitals and graves, the very flowers trapped in his beloved sisters lungs graced the floor as she had her love taken, and familiar beautiful flowers gracing a far too familiar grave. Nightmares of memories, his broken family, his sisters, his scared little siblings, sad older siblings, his Mama’s broken heart, his Papa crying for the first time, but not the last.


Lance shot up in his bed, tears cascading down his face as he covered his mouth to muffle the screams that he knew would have been ripping from his throat had the flowers not been choking him. Coughing more up in the bathroom, Lance stumbled toward the hangars, he wanted to talk to Blue, to apologize for being too weak to give up his love. Only, he bumped into Keith, who was coming out of his room.

“What? What the hell are you doing up?” Keith whispered, but Lance only shook his head, reigning himself into control.

“Don’t worry about it mullet.” Lance said with his usual snark, but Keith only narrowed his eyes.

“What’s going on with you? Everyone is worried sick!” Keith hissed and Lance turned away, he could tell Keith was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, he was too easily angered and impatient.

“Nothing you need to worry about mullet. It shouldn’t matter.” Lance said, he felt bad for his irritation, but he didn’t want Keith to know. He didn’t want anyone to know at all. Pulling from Keith’s reach, Lance turned and stalked down the hall to Blue, Keith fuming in the hallway. As soon as he was out of sight, Lance ran to Blue, rushing up to her as he coughed a few more flowers up.

“Hey Blue, I’m sorry.” He said as he ran a hand along her metal paw, the resounding purr through their bond and link comforted him.

Worry… Paladin… Affection. Lance smiled at the feelings, and laughed a bit at the image of them flying together.

“Of course Blue, til the moment every blossom stops.” Lance said and Blue rumbled in sadness, and Lance lowered his eyes a bit.

“I know, but there isn’t anything we can do Blue, I’m weak, I can’t risk it. I’m so sorry.” Lance said and Blue rumbled again, bending her head down so Lance could rub her nose, even though he knew she couldn’t feel it. He still did it because he knew she enjoyed it.

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t promise you something I can’t control. Night Blue.” Lance whispered, watching his lion return to her position. Leaving the hangar, Lance headed back to his room.

~~~~

Training the next day was awful, everyone was tensed and watching him in worry. Pidge knew something was off, but because no one said anything or jumped at him, Lance knew no one but Hunk knew of his disease. Shiro didn’t remember what it was, and he didn’t seem to go to Pidge with his concerns, so Lance continued training.

He did well, despite the pain and suffocating feeling. It wasn’t until Lance suddenly leaned over and began gasping as a flower blocked his air way. Coughing, Lance’s eyes widened in horror as everyone rushed over to him. Shaking away the hands and escaping, Lance collapsed against the wall of the training room, he faintly heard someone stop the training. Lance held a hand against the wall for support as everyone called out for him in worry, but his vision was going dark as he tried to dislodge the flower in his throat.

It was a full patch of Hydrangea, not just a few tiny individual blossoms. Lance weakly groaned as someone grabbed his shoulders.

Shit…” Was all he gasped out, as he slumped down, everything going dark.

~

Lance sprung up from the bed he was laid in, the burning in his chest and constriction was still there. Blinking, Lance barely registered someone speaking, maybe to him or not… He couldn’t tell.

“M-Mira…” Lance choked out as a petal fell from his lips. Suddenly, he noticed someone was shaking him. Eyes adjusting, he realized it was Coran, and he was speaking.

“C-Coran?” Lance asked Coran sighed, Pidge was in the room too. Rubbing his eyes, Lance turned to Coran.

“Pidge and Hunk explained to me what this Hanahaki disease is. Quiet odd that flowers grow in your chest. But! It would be rather easy to remove them, despite that you have a rather lot.” Coran said and Lance shook his head, waving off Coran as he stood.

“Lance, don’t be stupid.” Pidge said and Lance sighed as he tested his balance, before sticking his hands into his pocket.

“I’m not… I know what this does.” Lance said and Pidge rubbed her eyes. Lance groaned as he turned to face her.

“Lance! This isn’t something you can just brush off!” Pidge yelled, frustrated tears collecting in her eyes as Coran set a hand on her shoulder.

“If nothing changes, you’ll be getting the surgery no matter what.” Coran stated and Lance shot a bitter look at the Altean.

“No. Nope. Not gonna happen.” Lance said as he stalked towards the door, Pidge groaned and followed him, but he didn’t miss her worry.

“Lance, we need to tell the others. You shouldn’t be hiding this.” Pidge spoke up and Lance whirled on her, a horrified and fear wracked expression.

“No!” Lance said and Pidge jumped, before Lance turned away and covered his eyes. “Please, just… Let me tell them, I just need a little time.”

“Lance! You have fucking flowers in your lungs!” Pidge cried out exasperated and Lance turned to look at her, blue eyes glistening with tears.

“Please Pidge.” Lance muttered and Pidge’s breath hitched but she nodded, though he knew she would tell them if he didn’t sometime soon.

~~~~

Lance didn’t get to his room in time, hoping to avoid Shiro. He knew the others knew he had Hanahaki, but he knew Keith and Hunk wouldn’t say anything. Keith, because he probably was too emotionally distraught and Hunk was probably panicking so they wouldn’t be able to explain.

Lance seen his room, but failed to get there because Shiro suddenly grabbed him by the waist, pinning him to the wall. Lance tried to force his feelings down, he couldn’t start blushing and stuttering, this wasn’t the time.

“You aren’t going anywhere, now talk.” Shiro growled out, his flesh arm was gripping his waist and his Galra arm was on the wall beside Lance’s head.

“I-I don’t know-” Shiro caged Lance in more at Lance’s attempt at escaping. Shiro narrowed his eyes as he kept Lance trapped.

“Lance-” Shiro was cut off as Lance shook his head, trying to figure a way to escape.

“It’s nothing Shiro!” Lance exasperatedly said, he couldn’t tell him it was because he loved him. It would put unnecessary blame on Shiro. He couldn’t blame himself if Lance never told him.

“This isn’t nothing Lance!” Shiro yelled and Lance tried pushing Shiro away, but the slightly older teen refused. Fully pinning Lance against the wall, Shiro narrowed his eyes, daring Lance to lie.

Then the alarms went off, signalling they were under attack. Shiro growled as he narrowed his eyes at Lance.

“We aren’t done talking.” Shiro said, before letting Lance free, and they both ran to the hangars. Getting into their lions, Lance let out a relieved breath.

Lance felt awful, Shiro may have sounded angry, but Lance has a lot of siblings, he knew when someone was using anger to hide worry and fear.


The Galra kept them from forming Voltron, so they had to fight separately. Lance coughed up more flowers, Blue keeping them from being damaged while he threw up more flowers and blood. It was getting worse, the flowers were nearly fully bloomed and there was more blood.

Lance glanced at the controls and sighed a bit, the rest were doing good. Rushing and clearing more ships, Lance cursed in spanish as he was knocked to the ground. Blue was knocked out of commission for the most part. Lance could hear the others yelling at him as he left Blue, yelling at him to return to the controls.

“Blue’s out of commission, gonna have to do it the hard way.” Lance yelled back, shooting all the Galra rushing towards him, shooting ships out of the sky, protecting Blue the best he could.

“Lance! It’s not safe!” Shiro yelled at him, and Lance felt bad, there was terror in Shiro’s tone and he couldn’t help but like the concern. Shoving it back, Lance choked as his body felt on fire, his chest was crushing and he couldn’t breathe, but he kept shooting.

It wasn’t long till Blue jumped back in and blasted a Glara ship out of the sky, saving Lance from what would have been his demise. The battle was done and Lance could hear everyone breathing out and calming down over the comms.

“Lance?” Hunk spoke and Lance put his bayard away. Grunting, Lance began coughing violently, the terrified voices of his friends nearly overlapping each other over the comms.

“Lance!”

“Shit! Lance!”

“What the hell is going on Lance?!”

“Don’t you dare Lance!”

Lance blinked at the waterfalls of blood and flowers falling from his lips. Blinking blearily, Lance heard him being yelled at not to pass out. Lance laughed though, as he hunched over and began vomiting up more waterfalls of blood and flowers, so beautiful despite the fact that it was a sign he was going to die soon.

“Lance! Shit, don’t- god please!” Shiro cried into the comms, and Lance felt himself chuckle bitterly. He didn’t see his life flash before his eyes like in books or something, he just felt the pulling sensation in the back of his mind. He was in a lot of pain, and he felt weak as the world seemed to darken.

“O-Oh shit…” Lance said as the black lion landed near him, he looked at the ridiculous amount of blood and flowers, there was so much.

Lance finished coughing, and blinked at the figure running towards him as he crumpled. He got caught before fully hitting the ground as all the lions landed. Blinking up, Lance realized Shiro was yelling at him and looked on the verge of tears.

“Lance! Shit shit shit, don’t close your eyes!” Shiro was yelling, not understanding what was going on as the others dropped to their knees around him. He vaguely noted that Shiro wasn’t mad anymore, if anything, he look horrified.

“Shit! Why didn’t you tell anyone you had Hanahaki?” Keith yelled and Lance let out a pained cough, another flower falling from his mouth.

“I-I did…” Lance weakly said and Hunk shook his head.

“You should have told us all, not convinced me to keep quiet.” Hunk cried and the group began to panic. Pidge muttering quick explanations on the Hanahaki disease while Shiro rushed Lance to his lion. Hunk and Yellow brought Blue up to the castle ship while Shiro panicked with Lance and his fading pulse.

“Shit, god, Lance please.” Shiro muttered in panic as tears fell. He didn’t know what to do, he was missing to many memories, he couldn’t remember what Hanahaki disease’s cure is or if there even was a cure. His chest was burning and he felt like he was suffocating, fear and terror ripping him apart at the seams.

“I-It’s F-Fine…” Lance weakly said as he struggled to breathe, the flowers were getting worse, it was almost time. It’s been going on since they left Earth, but Lance has loved Shiro longer than that, which was why it was so bad.

“It’s not! Please, oh shit, Lance don’t leave… What do I do?” Shiro was definitely panicking now as they landed in the hangars.

“D-Don’t… Don’t let them… re-remove my l-love.” Lance muttered and Shiro blinked, before he finally remembered.

“Shit shit, who do you love? Fuck, we can find a way to-”

“S-Shiro… S-Stop…” Lance whispered and Shiro began to sob as he ran from his lion to the infirmary.

“Y-You can’t die! P-Please, d-don’t leave us… Don’t leave me.” Shiro cried, his hidden feelings, locked and pushed way coming to light. The others remained quiet as Pidge cried with Hunk, and Keith kept his eyes cast on the floor, tears dripping from his chin, Allura and Coran unable to do anything.

“S-Sorry…. S-Shiro.” Lance muttered as he lifted a shaky hand to Shiro’s cheek, having been placed on a medical bed. Shiro felt his chest burn, it hurt so bad, but he was too distraught to care.

“Please Lance… I love you.” Shiro begged, the last part his whispered as he closed his eyes and sobbed, the other paladins already past that point as they openly sobbed, wailed, and cried. Allura turned away and Coran covered his teary face in his hand.

Lance fell limp, and that was what shattered everyone. Shiro stood up, his chest aching as he brushed Lance’s hair back. Lance’s head fell to the side, everyone calmed down and grief strickenly moved over to Lance.

Only for blood and flowers to fall from his lips, Lance began to violently cough and hack it up. The blood stopped coming, but Lance continued to cough.

“Lance!”

“Shit, breathe man breathe!”

“He’s choking Keith, he can’t breathe!”

“Not the time Pidge!”

“Q-Quiznak-” Lance muttered before violently coughing again, Shiro helped him sit up, though Lance kept leaned over as he hacked up flowers. There were so many that just piled up, Shiro was terrified, and the other’s panicked as they tried to help, rubbing Lance’s back, helping Lance remove the flora by gently pulling the flowers and vines out.

It was a long painful process, but Lance finally fell still. Panicked, Pidge checked his pulse, but breathed in relief at the weak, but still there, pulsing. Lance was quickly scanned and laid back down, until those last few flowers come out, Coran couldn’t put him into a cryopod. Shiro didn’t let anyone try to perform the surgery, Lance had been adamant about that.

Then, about an hour later, Lance began coughing again, so they helped him up and lean over, as more flowers fell, then silence.

Everyone started crying, he was breathing, and coughing, but no more flowers fell from his lips. Coran scanned him again, before rushing him into a cryopod.

Then it was a waiting game. Shiro never left the room, watching Lance rest in the pod and heal, others came in and watched over him, or made Shiro eat.

Not once did Shiro leave the infirmary.

~

Lance vaguely remembered collapsing after the battle was over, he remembered darkness and flowers, then he remembered Shiro holding him and crying as Lance talked to him, but Shiro didn’t hear him over his panic and tears.

It’s fine… I accepted this… He remembered thinking that he was going to die choking on his blood and pretty flowers, though he thought it was nice to be in the arms of someone he loved.

Then Mira crossed his mind, she died alone, in pain and suffering, and Lance felt awful to have the person he loved hold him while he died.

Then he was thrown into darkness again, blood and familiar flowers surrounded him. White hydrangeas, blue wisteria, all so pretty, but they floated endlessly in the blood. Lance cupped one in his hands, vaguely aware that something was off, but unable to register it. Looking at his reflection in the blood, Lance noticed blood dripped from his chin and ran down his bare chest to meet the blood he was waist deep in.

Lance

Blinking he looked around, someone was calling him… Who was it?

Lance!

Shaking his head, he turned back to the blood, only to see a woman in white sitting in a white boat. She was beckoning him with a hand, her skin was nearly translucent, her eyes were closed and long bright hair framed her face. There were flowers falling from her mouth, the same ones Lance seen all around him.

Lance!

Hesitant, Lance decided to ignore the voice, going to the woman. The flowers were beautiful, and maybe she would lead him to other flowers. Reaching to touch the blue wisteria blossoms on the bow of her boat, Lance ripped his hand away as a familiar voice called out again.

Please Lance!

The woman beckoned him more impatiently, and Lance reached out again.

I love you.

Lance blinked as the voice finally opened his eyes. Shiro? Lance wondered, turning from the woman, and looking out over the blood and blackness, tons of white hydrangeas and blue wisteria floated in the blood, but Lance couldn’t see the source of the voice. Suddenly, Lance began to sink in the blood, it whirled around him with the flowers, the woman and boat disappearing.

“Quiznak.” Lance muttered as he was suddenly coughing up flowers and shit tons of them. A little blood too, he heard people talking but he was exhausted, his chest hurt and he felt like he was under water, so everything sounded distorted.

Next thing Lance knew, he was stumbling out of the cryopod, confused, dazed, and tired. Someone caught him, and on instinct, Lance tried to pull away.

“Lance!” the person holding him cried out in relief, and Lance blinked, he couldn’t quite think, his mind fuzzy from the pain he had been in and just coming from the cryopod.

“W-Wha? W-Who?” Lance muttered, coughing violently, but no blood or flowers came out thankfully.

“It’s me, Shiro. Pidge, Hunk, Keith, Coran and Allura too.” The voice said and Lance nodded weakly.

“Ugh… Am I dead?” Lance groaned as he suddenly dropped limp, he heard his name being yelled and then nothing.


Shiro jumped at the sound of Lance’s cryopod opening, the tired teen stumbled out and into Shiro’s arms, saving him from hitting the ground. Shiro hugged him close, so relief swarming his being. The burning lessened, but was still there.

“Lance!” Shiro cried in relief, everyone else jumping and rushing over. Lance coughed violently, but no blood or flowers fell.

“W-Wha? W-Who?” Lance muttered, sounding dazed as he finished coughing. Shiro pulled away a bit as he smiled at Lance.

“It’s me, Shiro. Pidge, Keith, Hunk, Coran and Allura too.” Shiro said, watching Lance in worry. Lance blinked slowly before he nodded weakly.

“Ugh…Am I dead?” Then he suddenly collapsed, but he was still breathing. Shiro hugged him close, before lifting him up. Nodding to the others, they followed Shiro to Lance’s room, only to grimace when they opened the door. Blood and flower petals littered his bed and floor, a half open drawer was filled with bloody flowers, they didn’t even dare look in the bathroom.

“I’ll… put him in my room.” Shiro said and the others nodded, Coran and Hunk moving to clean Lance’s room while Pidge and Keith worriedly watched Lance be moved to Shiro’s room.

Setting Lance down, Shiro covered him and breathed out in relief. The pain in his chest was gone, Lance was alive and breathing. Standing up, Shiro quickly pressed a kiss to Lance’s forehead. He’d apologize for being mad when Lance woke up and was coherent.

He cornered and yelled at Lance because he was worried and upset that Lance was lying to him and hiding things from him. He was fed up with Lance running and avoiding him to, so he pinned Lance to get answers.

Who knew his desperation to strengthen their bond would bring so many complications? For now, Shiro just wanted Lance to be ok.

They would figure the rest out later.


Well there it is, I know it’s short and probably a mess. I love the Hanahaki disease Au, its a great way to have angst and tragedy.

Riren/Rivaere Fic Reclist 2

1. Haute Couture Love (163k)- Eren Jaeger is sharp, determined and hard working but doesn’t consider himself beautiful or good looking in the least. When he lands his dream job, working at Survey Corp Publications as the Executive Assistant to a high-end Fashion magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, his life is turned Topsy-Turvy. All he wants to do is work hard to become an Editor, but his boss Levi seems keen on making his life a living hell.Levi is a notorious playboy who gets what he wants both in and out of the bedroom. As Editer-in-Chief of New York’s best selling high-end Fashion Magazine, Levi is forced to work with an overly determined, hot-headed brat with a rat’s nest for hair and the most incredible eyes he’s ever seen and it’s all because of Erwin Smith.

2. The Wilds (Incomplete, 38k)-  Levi is an Alpha from a warrior tribe and Eren is an Omega from a pacifist tribe with two very different cultures. They meet and life as they know it changes in an instant.

3. Kitty Love (131k)-  Five years after the fall of Wall Maria, a new problem has risen. Tension between the two remaining walls was inevitable, but now it was an all out war between walls Rose and Sina. Commander Erwin, one of the leading commanders on the side of wall Rose, has humanity’s strongest, Levi Ackerman, as his right hand man. But when Captain Levi goes on a scouting mission and finds a young neko boy named Eren in the destruction caused by the war, his life will undoubtedly change forever.

4. Temporary (25k)-  Levi wants a baby. But not just any baby. He wants a baby with Eren.

5. Irresistible (11k)-  Levi comes home from a yearlong trip to France with a plan to surprise Eren. What he doesn’t know is that Eren will be the one who surprises him instead.

6. Feral Devotion (8k)-  Eren Jaeger resides in a snowy village that treats him and his faithful companion like an outcast. One wild ride on a dogsled later and his fate takes a strange, feral turn.

7. Accidental Captivation (62k)-  Eren Jaeger is spending his last semester of college interning at Stohess Dental Associates for some college credit and a bit of cash. He goes in for a toothache before his internship starts and left with an all new sort of issue: Levi Ackerman and his irresistible scent.

8. The Sweet Scent of Intoxication (63k, Ongoing)-  Eren had just finally started to get his life under control. He had gotten into the college he wanted, had been looking for a part-time job and had applied to the same dormitory as Armin, to get the fuck away from the clutches of his abusive asshole of a father. But then, one morning a sudden dizziness overcame the supposed beta on his way to school. Fever breaking out on his skin, heat crawling its way up to his stomach, legs wobbling and shaking underneath him. What was happening to him?

9. Hotel Colossal Chaos (18k)-  After catching Eren coming out of an expensive car and overhearing a not-so-innocent conversation about meeting at a hotel, Jean deduces that Eren is a sugar baby. Too bad the bastard disappeared after class before Jean could ask. Armed with his friends, the group sets off to find Eren and stop him from ruining his life.

10. A Full Circle (10k)-  “Glad to see you’ve maintained that nice ass.”
A series of upcoming mpreg wingfic drabbles.

11. When You’re Ready, Come And Get It (83k)-  Eren has been helping people by returning things that has been taken from others. When justice was too weak to help and the police just couldn’t be trusted anymore, he decided to help those in need by becoming a thief. But when he met Levi, whom is so determined to catch The Thief, Eren is tempted to challenge him by sending an invitation every time he’s going to steal.

12. Your Love Is A Need (3k, Sequel to Your Love Is A Menace)-  A look at our two boys after the nightmarish situations they had to go through to be together.

13. Sugar On Top (115k)- Eren is a typical struggling college student. His father thinks he’s a disappointment. He’s having an affair with his friend (who’s already in a relationship). He feels like everything is useless.One night he runs into a handsome stranger. But when this stranger starts to casually throw money at him, Eren comes to an agreement: having a pampering sugar daddy isn’t the most awful situation he could be in.His only problem is his own emotions: holding on to his past pains and trying to accept a possible future at Levi’s side.

And something else I think is relevant in how these characters are built is that both Sam and Dean get better - by narrative necessity, sure, but also because that’s what humans do - whatever happened to you, it comes a point where you let go or heal, there’s no other way of doing life - which means that we’ve seen both Sam and Dean being beaten down and depressed and broken and completely fucking guilty over a number of things, but that normally lasts - a few episodes, or a season or something, and then - they move the fuck on. They go back to their lives - they hunt stuff, they watch TV, they sometimes drive two states over to mooch a dinner off Jody, and whatever happened to them, whoever’s died, however they fucked up, sooner or later they manage to stop crying and punching walls about it, because that’s how it is when you need to look after a functioning body, right - sooner or later, you need to start feeding it and washing it, and so they clean things and change their sheets and put their shirts in the washing machine or straight into the bin because, man, werewolf blood is the worst, and finally - finally - they start laughing at skateboarding dogs and smiling at babies in diners and slowly, oh so slowly, they become themselves again. Or a new version of themselves, that is. And it would be miraculous, really, except it’s not - it’s simply humanity at its best, the way we’ve seen them come back from everything - from John dying for Dean, from car accidents and vampires feeding on them, from a demon blood addiction, from torture and dooming the world and saving the world and the death of mostly every friend they ever had. Because they’re human, and we do that. We have to (we were designed that way).

But Cas - Cas is not human. So, you know, as heartbroken and irritated as I am to see him waste away season after season, locked in his own guilt and regret and lack of purpose, shock turning into depression and apathy and then I needed to come back with a win - for you, well - it actually makes sense? Angels, like the gods of old, were never meant to heal (to learn; to pick themselves up and try again). They are mostly fighting bots, mission in, mission over, repeat, and when Cas chose to leave all of that behind, well - that’s the risk he took. That he wouldn’t be able to ever let go of his mistakes, to move beyond his pain, to accept that scars of any kind are just part of life. And you see this all the time in the ancient world - immortal creatures going insane over despair and misery, because they never had to deal with them before and whatever they feel, it’s absolute and eternaland there’s no escape from it. So what I’m conflicted about now is that I always assumed Cas needed to get better - that if he ever chose to become human, he should do so from a position of power, because he wants to and not because it’s his last damn option, but I’m suddenly wondering - can he get better? Gabriel wallowed in his anger and bitterness and sadness for millennia (as did Lucifer), and Hannah couldn’t bear her vessel’s loneliness - the weight of a woman’s lost love - it hurt so much she had to walk away. But we’ve always been told that Cas is special, that he’s different, and maybe that’s why - because that human heart beating inside him is fully his, always was, and one day he’ll choose to give in to it - not to cut himself off his Grace, that is, but to love like we do - unconditionally, perhaps, but also in fits and starts, because we’re mortal and choke-full of hormones and weirdness and a bunch of organs doing their own thing and that’s all we can manage - an imperfect, relentless affection - the kind of forgiveness that should always, always start or end with yourself.

Ignorance is bliss
Happiness is ambition
Desolation is knowledge
Pain is acceptance
Despair is anger
Denial is helpless
Martyrism is hope for others
Advantages taken are causes of martyrism
Revenge is sorrow
Death is a reprieve
Life is a punishment
Others’ achievements are tormentations
People are alike
I am different

- Dylan

Powerless

The ever present feeling
Of overwhelming sadness
Is almost too much to bare
As I clutch my stomach
In hopes that
My insides don’t fall out—
This is loneliness
At its most vulnerable
While tears drip
Down my cheeks
Leaving a pattern of sadness
On a face I can no longer hide—
I wish I could stop caring
I know I no longer
Have that privilege
But I am sickened
By the thought of you in pain
And feel powerless
When accepting
That I can’t fix it
This time.

-C.A.

DIY: the Poppet Edition

Since people apparently really liked Ada, my joy poppet, I thought that maybe some of you would like a tutorial… So here goes!

Disclaimer: Since I’m in the broom closet and that I’m a real life dollmaker, I tend to make my poppets as complex and “clean looking” as possible so that people assume it’s just yet another of my dolls. You definitely don’t have to do it the way I do it, or even to follow a remotely similar aesthetic.

You’ll need:

• some paper
• a pen
• scissors
• fabric (stretchy is best for beginners)
• a sewing needle and some thread
• herbs
• crystals
• small items
• a taglock (since I only do these poppets for my own use, I use a small lock of my hair)
• stuffing
• something blunt and long, like a screwdriver.

First, draw the body’s silhouette on paper. I try to make mine fairly symmetrical because it makes creating the clothes easier but it’s not necessary. Also, you should think about what you’re planning to use your poppet for. For example, Ada’s job is to bring more happiness in my life and help me fight off anxiety, so she’s shaped like a cat because cats make me happy. Lucia, which I’ll be building in this tutorial, is a mourning poppet: her job is to help me mourn my father, dull the pain and help me accept that everything must end, so she’ll be shaped like a skeleton. Think about what your poppet is for, choose its body accordingly.

Then do an arm and a leg the same way. As you can see, I tried giving her a little hand and curved the foott, but a simple rectangle will do the job just as well. Her leg here is super short because I’m going to make her boots out of polymer clay. I don’t need it to be as long as it should since I’ll glue the boots on later.

Now pick a fabric and draw each part twice. Chose the color accordingly to your poppet’s purpose and your personal taste. Also, if your poppet is going to be small like Ada and/or you’re a beginner… Pick some stretchy fabric, like an old t-shirt! Afterward you’ll have to turn it inside out and the stiffer the fabric, the more you’ll cry. Trust me.

Using an old t-shirt you don’t wear anymore makes your poppet even more personal! Yet another side benefit of loving yourself instead of keeping on using linen because you love the feel of it, but your poppets are pretty much drenched by tears of frustration by the time you’re done. Why do I keep doing that.

Now cut the silhouettes off, leaving some wiggle room. If you use a fabric that doesn’t fray, like an old t-shirt hint hint, you don’t have to leave a huge amount of fabric on the side. If you picked something that was probably weaved in hell, like satin, get your pinking shears out. if you don’t have pinking shears, use some fabric glue to stop the fraying. If you don’t have fabric glue, well. Good luck.

I sorta forgot to take pictures of the in-between stage, sorry. So uh. Just sew the two body silhouettes together, and each limbs, folding them on themselves. Remember to leave a hole big enough so that you can turn everything inside out.

Don’t worry too much about it being perfect: as long as it’s tight enough to not spill the stuffing, it’s good enough. While I try to make my seam lines as discreet as possible (to be more discreet about my practice), I find contrasting seams super appealing visually. So if you want to experiment with that, knock yourself out.

Start stuffing the limbs. For Lucia, I’m using the stuffing I stole from an old pillow. For Ada, I used leftover wool because that’s what I had handy. For others I used rice. Whatever works for you. As you can see, I’m using a screwdriver to push each little cotton ball all the way down. Don’t stuff the arms too much, or your poppet won’t be able to lower it arms. Unless that’s what you want.

For the body, I usually just stuff the head and the bottom of the body with cotton balls and then keep the belly and chest empty so I can fill it up with herbs and items. You could fully stuff the poppet with herbs if you’d like, or just mix a pinch with the cotton balls. See what works best for you.

Here Lucia already has one arm sewed on because I got impatient.

Here, I got my herbs ready in my mortar and put them in a small cup for easy access. Start filling up the poppet’s chest and belly (but not too much, you want some space left). Just so you know, that step tends to be pretty messy so… Do that somewhere where getting herbs everywhere isn’t much of a problem.

Pick herbs related to your poppet’s mission. For Lucia, I used linden (grief-relief after death), thyme (provides strength and courage, wards off grief), lavender (eases heartbreaks, soothing) and sage (self purification, deals with grief and loss, removes negative energy).

I didn’t take the previous step in pictures, because the items I picked where pretty personal and I don’t feel like showing them. But I can list them.

Here’s what I put inside of her:
• pink quartz (for love)
• a skull bead (for death)
• a taglock (I always use a lock of my hair tied with a red thread)
• something that belonged to my dad (it was hard to let go of it)

Again, pick everything according to the poppet’s mission. If you give yours the job to ward off curses or to help you cast spells, your list will be probably very different from mine. Take time to research what you want to use, think of how it symbolizes her mission.

I sewed on the limbs because I felt like it. You can do this later if you want, it doesn’t really matter.

So now the step shown in this picture is “the letter”. It’s an important step because that’s where you state the poppet’s purpose. And it’s also where you name your poppet (names have power, take time to think about it)! It’s not a very complicated step, though, you just need a pen and some paper.

My letters usually go this way:

“Dear (name),

You are my (purpose) poppet. You will always do (thing). You will always help me with (thing) by doing (thing). I give you this (crystal) to symbolize (thing), this (item) to symbolize (thing), this (precious thing) to symbolize (thing). I also give you my (taglock) to symbolize our bound together.

With Love,

(my name)”

Personalize it whichever way you see fit. Fold the letter tightly, put it inside the poppet, finish filling it with the herbs.

Now that the poppet’s all filled up and ready, sew close the hole and sew on the limbs if you haven’t done it already. You can now give your poppet a face. You can embroider it, paint it with fabric paint or acrylic, or use beads, or markers, or buttons, or anything you want. Be as creative as you want.

Once you’re done, you can add a sigil on it (I like to do it some place others can’t see, like under the clothes), and give some hair and some clothes to your little one. Or don’t! It all comes down on your instincts now, what feels appropriate and what doesn’t. Even if your poppet isn’t perfect, take some time to appreciate its existence. At first there wasn’t anything but a bunch of supplies and you made SOMETHING. And if that’s not magic, I don’t know what is.

As you can see on that picture, Lucia isn’t finished yet, but I’m working on her clothes and accessories right now. Once she’s fully clothed and ready, the only thing she’ll need will be to be activated, so I’ll leave her to charge on my altar for one night. And in the morning, I’ll wake her up by kissing her forehead so she can start doing her job.

Something I really, really love about Strange Magic is what it does with the Beauty and the Beast trope:  

It’s not about ‘beauty’ changing the ‘beast’, it’s about healing him, AND vice versa; about (intentionally or not) soothing each other’s still painful scars, and accepting them.  They’re both the ‘beauty’ and the ‘beast’.  They’re both truly kind and compassionate, they’ve both been hurt, and they’re both different from the rest. 

Tony is really nervous. Even tho his mamma says he doesn’t need to be nervous. And his daddy. Well he can’t know that Tony is nervous or he would be really angry. And he is scary when is angry.

“You be a good boy for me, Antonio you hear?” Says his mamma when they finally are in front of a big building. Tony looks up at her and then nods.

“Use your words, bambino.” His mamma says and she smiles a bit.

“Sí. I will be good.” Whispers Tony, because he is really scared now. What if nobody likes him there? He never had a friend before in his life and… what if it stays like that?

“Hello Mrs. Stark.” A new voice says then and Tony sees a big men who smiles down at him. Tony gasps and then hides behind his mothers legs. He wants to go home now.

“Good morning, Mr. Rhodes. I’m sorry he is a bit shy.” Maria says now and she looks disappointed at her son. Tony makes himself even smaller and looks at the ground.

“Oh no problem. Hello there. You must be Anthony, yeah?” Mr. Rhodes says now and he kneels down in front of Tony. Maria takes a step to the side and Tony now has to face the men.

“Yes, Mr. Rhodes. I’m Anthony Stark. It is nice to meet you.” He says and then holds his hand out. He is supposed to give a firm handshake his daddy says all the time. Mr. Rhodes laughs.

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Good Boy.

You never forget the first time he says it. Spilling from his lips and burrowing straight into your yearning, submissive soul.

 “Good boy. Such a good boy.”

A flood of warmth. A sensation like there’s a wick inside your ribcage, and he just lit the tip, and there’s heat and light, shining in that dark place where you’ve been hiding your fears and pain and need for acceptance. Manifesting physically by a rush of blood to your head, skin prickling, your breath quickening.

 “You’re a good boy.”

 How can you rally a response? How do you vocalize how deeply this goes, how it makes you feel? Do you whimper thanks? Do you fall to your knees and hug his strong, unyielding legs? Is it done with a kiss? A moan of desire and gratitude?

“I’m so proud of you. Good boy.”

He keeps saying it. Does he know the effect? But with each repetition it becomes deeper. Pushing you further into subspace, intoxicated, head swimming as the rest of the world recedes and all you perceive is his voice, his presence, his approval, so appreciated, so needed. You needed this, without even realizing it. All your work and all your struggles, and nobody ever says it… nobody ever recognizes it… but he does. He does.

 “Yes boy. Such a good boy. You’re my good boy.”

The most divine pleasure strikes. More than ever and you fall completely. This man you need to serve, need in your life… said my. Ownership… recognition… love.  And you feel it, you hear it in his voice the warmth, the sincerity. Equally sincere your heart responds and you know that as long as you can be his good boy, you will belong to him always. Will follow him always. Will love him always. Just so you can fullfil your purpose and be his good boy. To make him happy. To make him proud. To make him – and you – complete.

Good boy. Good boy. You are such a very good boy.

Originally posted by kell6345