#if I didn't already feel so irritated about my job I probably wouldn't be do angry but I'm Already feeling singled out

[strawberrystepmom]

dante x f!reader. established relationship, a minor disagreement that ends up in hurt/comfort. | wc: 1.4k, reading time: ~5 minutes

“I’m coming with you.”

Your remark is firm while you practically chase after Dante who slumps down in the chair behind his desk for the briefest moment, pulling equipment from the drawers of his desk and putting it into his pockets. 

“No, you’re not.”

It irritates you how he won’t even look up, preoccupied with getting out of here. Your jaw slackens, eyes narrowing.

“Why not?”

Now he looks up, his own teeth clenched. 

“Because I’ve said no ten times and meant it every one.” 

He hates fighting with you. In fact, he hates telling you no about anything and you’re all too well aware of it judging by the way you seem to think you can wear his defenses down into a yes right now. 

Disengaging by looking down, he loads a few bullets into his guns which further irritates you. 

There’s no such thing as a truly unexpected job in his line of work. He gets calls at all hours of the day or night sometimes, reporting to wherever he needs to be to take care of business, but you don’t understand why he won’t let you come. It’s midday and he’s clearly playing coy about the threat level of whatever is out there meaning there may be a need for help.

Laughing sarcastically, you stand in place in front of his desk. 

“It amazes me how you are never this serious about a no until it has to do with what I want.”

Whipping his head upward so fast his hair falls out of place against his forehead, the man you love more than any other curls his lip and points all five of his fingers toward you, eyes wide.

“And it amazes me that you’ve never bothered to wonder why I'm so serious about it. How many times have we had this exact conversation?" 

There has never been a time where he’s raised his voice at you and he has no plans of starting now but you are seriously testing his patience. 

You fold your arms across your torso and raise your brows adversarially high. "I wish you’d just admit it’s because you think I'm weak and can't protect myself. Your little liability."

Finally, you push Dante to the point of a frustrated, humorless chuckle punctures the tense air of the room. You flinch in place, averting your eyes from him to other corners of the room that seem a lot easier to look at. Walls don't have eyes that pierce to your very soul the way his are right now, feeling them even if you don't see them.

"Will you please stop thinking the worst about me? I know better than anyone you can take care of yourself." 

He scoffs, another ironic chuckle following it. 

"In fact, this isn’t even about you. Have you ever thought for even a second that I keep you away from my jobs because I don't know what I would do if something happened to you? That nobody does?" 

You look up and he looks directly at you, brows furrowed. 

"Yeah, I've been called out about it before. By Trish and Lady and everyone who has ever seen the way I am when it comes to you." He shakes his head, rising from his seat behind the desk, reaching across it and grabbing your trembling hands. "They’ve all had the same thing to say about how you can't be around because my focus becomes keeping you safe."

He looks away from you, retreating to somewhere distant in his mind. 

"I catch myself thinking about a world without you sometimes and it's dark and heavy and...and I know I couldn't do it if I didn't have you."

"Do what?"

"Any of this.” He waves his hand around the waiting room of Devil May Cry dramatically. “Exist."

"Dante..." 

You click your tongue, chest aching at his words. They’re well meant but even the faintest insinuation of him stumbling into the bad shape he was when you first met makes you feel hollow.

"I mean it, sweetheart. You could come up with a hundred arguments and probably already have but I wish you wouldn't waste your time arguing with me about what the truth is. It’s not that you're weak, it's that I'm weak for you."

Now you feel like a real problem, pouting like a little girl while he airs out the truth. “Stop it.”

“No, you stop. Let me tell you how I feel and maybe, just maybe, actually listen to me for once.”

Pushing your fists against your eyes, you take a deep breath and allow the pressure of your knuckles to keep the levy holding back your tears from breaking. You probably look as pathetic as you feel standing there like this, shoulders slumped inward and breaths coming in staggered pants. 

Merciful man that he is, Dante never lets you suffer for long. 

You hear his footsteps round his desk in the  same pattern you memorized a long time ago, his warm arms coming to cradle you even if you won’t look at him. Your body naturally leans against his chest, fists pressed against his shirt, face hidden. 

“You’ve made me a man, not just someone pretending to be half one.” He unburies your face to kiss the tip of your nose, pulling you against his chest to bury your head beneath his scruffy chin. “And you’re one thing I wanna keep safe forever because of it. Is that so wrong?”

Shaking your head no, you sigh in lighthearted defeat. How can you put up a fight, especially when he is safely nestling his beating heart in your hand? You protect it, he protects you. 

It’s not all that bad of a deal when you really think about it. 

“You’re starting to give me a stomach ache,” you joke, lifting yourself up on the tips of your toes to kiss him. It’s a little brush of lips against lips, far less searing then how you usually approach. 

Still, it says everything. The pair of you remain locked together - two bodies and one shared soul - refusing to part even to continue the conversation. 

“Sorry for thinking the worst.” 

Your apology is only slightly muffled, mashed between his mouth and yours. He parts his lips to reply but chooses to kiss you instead, tongue dipping between lips he could not successfully exist without. You’ve given his world more than color, you’ve breathed life into every last corner of it. The least he can do is tell you so once in a while. 

Smiling against your lips, he stops for a breath and backs away enough to look down at you. 

“Let me know next time that happens so I can get ahead of it, okay?”  

A lighthearted reminder, sealed with another small kiss. The tension in the room gradually soothes itself, minute by passing minute. The safety of his arms even improves your mood slightly, your fists pressed against the center of his chest rather than over your eyes. 

“Please stay behind and let me come home to you in one piece.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you fight the urge to insist you need to continue fighting for your place in his life. He’s telling you clearly that you’ve earned it. 

“Alright,” you acquiesce, raising yourself up on tippy toes to kiss him again. 

Opening your mouth to continue speaking he shoots you a look, not venomous or dangerous, but serious. He doesn’t wanna argue about this again. 

You lean into him, big eyes staring. “Fine, God, okay. But you need to call me as soon as you’re done because I don’t know what I’d do without you either and cannot think about it so please don’t make me.”

Dante nods, chuckling. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Later on, after you’re less emotional and he’s home safe and sound, you’ll admit he’s right. You’ll mutter against his hair that he’s not merely a good man but the best one for thinking of you the way he does and that you constantly question if you deserve it or not. He’ll whisper to you that nobody has ever deserved it more, rocking you gently until you fall into a fitful sleep and leaving him awake for a little longer. 

Only then will he find himself alone enough to silently thank whatever force brought you, this stubborn, beautiful woman, into his life to save him. He’ll insist to this same force that he’s only making up for lost time by protecting you from danger to begin with. 

It happens every time.

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Seradiel, Kezareth, Reader/You

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere(s), religious themes and references, conflict, angels and demons, emotional reader, forced infantilization, cuddling, annoyed reader, manipulation, mentioned possession, Sera and Kez giving divorced parent energy 💔

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have finally wrote demon yandad! I didn't know whether or not to just make him his own character, but decided for now since I'll only be writing him with Seradiel, to not give him his own spot on series 3 (yet?)

It's dusk when it happens.

You'd already had a long day, made longer by Seradiel trailing behind you like your shadow, fawning over your safety like always. After a night out on the town with friends, you were exhausted. All you wanted to do now was rest in the comfort of your bed and maybe catch something on TV, before calling it a night and letting sleep lull you.

"I told you not to go out today," Seradiel murmurs for the seventh time, his voice gentle but cloying. His hands are folded neatly in front of him as he walks behind you.

"And I told you, I'm not going to change my plans because you 'had a feeling' it wouldn't turn out well," you retort. "Every single time you say that."

"And I am right every single time," Seradiel counters.

You don't respond. You don't even look at him. His constant hovering is wearing you down, and you have a feeling he's well aware of that.

The worst part is, you can't run from him, can't call anyone to get him away from you— because he's a celestial being. There's no escaping someone who doesn't live by human laws.

Suddenly the street darkens. The temperature dips. You look to the sky for some kind of explanation for the strange shift in scenery, but all you see are the same clouds you saw ten minutes ago. You look at Seradiel for an explanation.

His expression has shifted from irritation to wariness. He takes a protective stance in front of you. "Don't move." He's staring ahead, and you follow his gaze.

Standing there is a man who's slightly shorter than Seradiel, but with black wings, horns, and a thin black tail.

His hair is short and dark brown, and beneath his glasses are piercing green eyes, almost glowing. He wears a suit that makes him look like he came from a business meeting.

"Well, well, well," the man— probably a demon, drawls. "Long time no see, Sera."

Seradiel blocks you from the demon's vision with one of his wings. "Kezareth." Your guardian angel sounds downright hateful when saying his name. You never heard such poison dripping from his tone. "Why are you here?"

"New rules." Kezareth grabs a scroll from his pocket and unfolds it, clearing his throat. "Heaven and Hell's High Councils have come to a compromise; for every mortal human that has a guardian angel reveal themselves to them, a demon must also assign itself to said human, to balance out each side's influence." When he finishes reading, he puts the paper back into his pocket. "Since you angel's care about balance so much, this should be happy news for you."

"Oh, please," Seradiel scoffs. "There is no way anyone in heaven with a right mind agreed to this."

Kezareth shrugs. "Believe me, believe the document, or go ask God himself if you'd like. Now, let me meet my new kiddo..." He kneels down as if you're shorter than you are, waving hello. "Oh, aren't you just adorable!"

He reaches a gloved hand out to ruffle your hair, but Seradiel slaps it away. "Touch them and I will tear out your eyes."

"Wow, what a good influence," Kezareth snorts. He rises to his feet, dusting off his suit. "No need to be a drama queen about it, I'm not allowed to do anything harmful to our baby anyway. I'm just supposed to watch them like you do."

"Not 'our' baby," Seradiel growls. "And why on earth would you want to protect them? What even is your job description, if you aren't lying, that is?"

"We need more people in Hell," he shrugs. "While you're trying to get them into Heaven by encouraging them to do good things, I'm doing the opposite. Nothing crazy, of course. Just imagine me as the little demon on their shoulder."

"If you cared about them, why would you want them in Hell?" Seradiel narrows his eyes.

"So they can be with their superior dad? Catch up." Kezareth turns his attention to you again. "Sorry about all the boring bureaucracy. The main thing to know is I am taking good care of you now."

"And I thought having one overprotective asshole was bad enough," you mumble under your breath. Of course, both supernatural beings hear you.

"Language," Seradiel scolds. He hoists you up, giving you a chance to remember his inhuman strength. "And you, you stay away from them." He jabs his pointer finger at Kezareth. "You know nothing of safety."

Kezareth holds his hands up in a faux gesture of peace. "Even if I didn't want to, I don't have a choice in the matter. Rules are rules. And if you were to stop me, I think that'd be a big offense to both Heaven and Hell."

Seradiel runs a hand through his hair. "Fffffine. But if you put them in danger—"

"I'm not gonna. Demons can't harm mortals directly, remember? We can tempt them and suggest things, but we cannot carry them out. Not that I would." He offers his hand to you. "Now! Walk with me, tell me all about yourself."

...

Having two celestial beings in your life certainly changed things around.

The worst part is how Seradiel and Kezareth constantly clash on the smallest things, unable to agree on almost everything regarding your care. Like two parents in a custody battle, the only thing they share is their mutual desire for your safety. That doesn't stop them from bickering like two toddlers fighting over the same toy, though.

"How did you two know each other before?" you ask during dinner (which Seradiel made, refusing to let Kezareth even touch anything in the kitchen).

Seradiel sighs. "Kezareth was an angel once. We were... acquaintances."

Kezareth looks mildly offended. "If you think mere acquaintances spend every single day together, sleep in the same bed, bathe together, then sure, call us acquaintances."

You nearly choke on your food. "So you guys were an item?"

"Not quite." Seradiel dabs his mouth with a napkin. "That is neither here nor there, but yes, Kezareth was an angel until he fell." Disdain seeps into his voice. "He was never a good angel, mind you. Always questioning orders, never attending meetings. The only thing he was good at was slacking off." He glares daggers at Kezareth, who ignores his glower.

"Anyway, I didn't fall," Kezareth says. "I jumped. And I've never felt more free. That's why I don't want you becoming part of that life, (Y/n). It's not all rainbows and sunshine up there."

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "I'd say more strict rules are far better than eternal fire."

"Oh, please, that's just an exaggeration." Kezareth waves a hand dismissively. He turns his attention to you. "I have a pretty big social status down there. All I have to do is pull some strings and you can have your own mansion bigger than Earth. How about it?"

"Don't listen to him," Seradiel huffs.

Wow, this really does feel like a custody battle. "I just want to eat my dinner and go to bed..."

Seradiel pats your shoulder. "Finish your greens first. They'll make you big and strong." You notice Kezareth nodding to that.

...

A few days later, you attempt to shop for groceries, but you can't even do that without these two butting heads.

"Don't get that, that's loaded with cholesterol," Seradiel chastises, plucking the food from your hands.

"Hey, it's fine to be self-indulgent every now and then," Kezareth shrugs, grabbing the food back.

You groan. "It's fine, I don't have the money to get that anyway."

Kezareth puts a hand to his heart. "You're telling me Sera doesn't pay for your stuff?"

"I only pay for things I approve of. Food, rent, clothes. Anything else is a reward for good behavior." He puts the food back. "I haven't a clue why I'm explaining this to you, you wouldn't get it."

"I don't get anything that comes out of your mouth," the demon utters. He ruffles your hair, lowering his voice. "You ever steal anything before?"

Seradiel answers for you. "Don't even try putting ideas into their head."

Kezareth ignores him. "If you don't want to, I can for you. Just tell me you give me permission."

"(Y/n), don't. That is just as bad as stealing it yourself," Seradiel warns.

As much as you don't want to start any trouble, you do admit Kezareth's offer is tempting. A quick glance around tells you the coast is clear; there's no employees or customers around this area. "Alright, if it's just a snack, I guess so. Go for it."

At your agreement, a broad smile crosses Kezareth's features. He leans into one of the shelves and grabs what you're eyeing, shoving it in his jacket. "Perfect." He kisses the side of your head with a dramatic "mwah" sound, ignoring Seradiel's irritated glare. "Anything else you want around here that Mr. Grump would disapprove of?"

You open your mouth to tell him another thing, but Seradiel's disapproving glare makes you second guess your actions. "Uhh, I don't think so."

"That's correct," your guardian angel says firmly. "We're leaving before this gets anymore reckless." He grabs your wrist, dragging you to the check-out.

For the remainder of the shopping trip, there's palpable tension between Seradiel and Kezareth. You pretend to ignore it for your sanity's sake.

...

"Why do you look so upset, honey?" Kezareth coos a few days later, when he sees you trudge in the kitchen.

He knows why you're upset, of course. He had made himself invisible while watching you through the whole day, and knows you had a falling out with a friend (that he may or may not have caused, after all, you were starting to stray away from him, and he can't have that). He stops what he's doing to pull a chair from the table, ushering you over.

"One of my friends... or, well, ex-friends, isn't talking to me anymore. She blocked all contact with me out of nowhere," you utter, sitting down. "Found out she was gossiping about me behind my back with some other friends."

Kezareth starts combing through your hair with his fingers. "Aww, baby. Well, if she thinks so lowly of you, you can do without her," he says smoothly.

"She called me immature and annoying, too. Is that true?"

Kezareth clicks his tongue, moving a chair in front of you so he can sit face to face. He takes your cheeks in his hands. "Nooo, don't believe anything she said, or anyone else for that matter. She's an idiot. She doesn't know anything, baby."

You sniffle. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

He nods vigorously. "Of course I'm right, I'm always right!" He pulls you into a hug. "Besides, even if you are annoying, I don't care about that stuff. I still think you're adorable."

"I have a feeling you're only saying that because you're obligated to." Nonetheless, you return the gesture.

"Honey, I don't do anything I don't want to," Kezareth promises, voice sweet. "Everything I do is out of choice, not necessity." He brushes his thumb under your eye to wipe your tears. "Now, no more tears over someone like her. Okay, sweet pea? Now how about you take a much-needed nap." He hoists you into his arms like Seradiel often does, carrying you to your room.

"I feel too angry to even sleep," you mutter. "I know it's wrong, but I kind of hate her now."

"There's nothing wrong with hate, I don't understand why so many people are afraid of it," Kezareth says. "It's actually better to have a lot of it, otherwise you get walked over all the time." He sets you down on the bed. "And if you can't find it in yourself to hate her, I can hate her for you. In fact, I already do!"

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. "You don't even know her."

"If she hurt you, then she hurt me." He tucks you into your bedsheets like a burrito and presses a kiss on your nose. "Say the word, and I'll ruin her life for you. Not even joking!"

"As tempting as that is, I don't hate her that much," you chuckle.

"That's alright, sweetheart," Kezareth smiles. "But if you ever change your mind, let me know." He adjusts your pillow so that your neck and head are more supported. "I'll wake you in an hour or so, whenever dinner's ready. I think you're in need of some comfort food!"

When he walks into the kitchen, there's Seradiel, glaring daggers at him.

"Our baby was emotionally wounded, and where were you, hm? Off in cloudland, right?" He walks past the angel, preparing dinner.

"What did you do?" Seradiel snaps. Kezareth turns around, feigning innocence. "Don't give me that look. I can see the wickedness in you, clear as day."

Kezareth sighs. "Some mild possession, what of it? That girl was turning against them anyway."

Seradiel's eye twitches. "Why? Just so you could see (Y/n) cry?"

The demon puts a dramatic hand to his nonexistent heart. "You think so lowly of me! But yes, partially. I need a reason to comfort them and bond with them, since you hog most of their attention to yourself. But also because I need them to come to terms with their more human emotions. Hatred is a natural emotion of theirs that you've tried to suppress for too long."

"I don't discourage them to feel human emotions, I discourage them to act on said emotions," Seradiel points out. "There is a big difference."

"So even though you hate me, by your logic, you can't act on that hatred?" Kezareth challenges.

"You're an exception, since you are not human, and therefore are not bound to those standards," Seradiel says curtly. "I hope you aren't encouraging them to punch anyone."

"Nooo, I'd never want them to get their hands dirty. That's my job. Which is exactly why I offered to ruin that brat's life, but they said they didn't want that. For now, anyway. The offer still stands indefinitely." He adds oil into a pan with a sizzling sound. "Is jealousy eating away at you? Are you frustrated that they aren't crying to you anymore?"

"Stop making them sad just for your ego," Seradiel snarls. "It's sickening and selfish, even for your standards."

"Oh, please, you aren't an angel, either. Oh, actually, I guess you are. You know what I meant." Kezareth peels and chops the vegetables rhythmically, the knife clacking against the cutting board. "Your motives for being overprotective are no different from mine."

"They actually are. I just want them to live a happy, safe life. You just want to drag them down with you to Hell so you'll be less lonely." Seradiel folds his arms over his chest, leaning back against a wall. "At least my intentions come from genuine love and care."

Kezareth snickers. "You're just a control freak. I just want them to be with their superior dad forever. Not as crazy as you make it out to be."

"They are not yours," Seradiel huffs. "I am going to clean the living room. Do not make a mess in here, I already spent an hour cleaning your mess last night."

"Ugh, thank goodness we broke up. You'd make an awful husband, always nitpicking me."

"It wouldn't hurt to pick up after yourself," Seradiel grumbles under his breath.

...

A couple months pass after Kezareth's arrival. While still an adjustment, it starts becoming part of your new routine.

The more time passes, the more relaxed your guardians seem to be around each other too— although sometimes their arguments get intense. You're lucky enough to find them casually conversing with each other every now and then, too, although they still have their disagreements.

One thing that you notice is how Kezareth tends to push boundaries while Seradiel likes to enforce them. Both their protective natures clash horribly as a result.

With Seradiel, at least he doesn't bother trying to mask his controlling nature. On the contrary, it feels as if he takes pride in it.

When it comes to Kezareth, though, he's sneakier about it.

He makes you think you have a say in certain decisions, but ultimately he manipulates you into choosing what he thinks is best. It's clear the only reason Kezareth wants you to do bad things (in Seradiel's eyes, at least) is to not only get you closer to spending an eternity with him, but also to piss off your guardian angel.

But when it comes to things like privacy, independence, and personal freedom, they seem to share a similar perspective.

Just yesterday, you went to hang out with some friends, but of course your celestial babysitters had to follow you around. But with their ability to cloak themselves and disappear, your friends thankfully weren't able to see them.

Though you were, and you swear they thought you were crazy when you randomly shouted at nothing about how annoying they were acting.

To them, they probably just saw you yelling at a wall.

And now, you're trying to go hang out with your friends again tonight, but it seems like your guardians have different plans.

"It's a Saturday night, baby," Kezareth argues. "All of the parties will be crowded with drunk idiots that want to hurt you. Not to mention the possibility of kidnapping. Please stay home, for me? We can bake cookies. Doesn't that sound so much better than going to some concert in a sweaty nightclub with sweaty strangers bumping into you?"

"Not really," you mutter under your breath.

Seradiel cups your shoulders. "Listen, (Y/n), even if we allow you to go, we must accompany you at all times. No wandering off on your own."

"No!" You jerk away from his grip. "Look, this concert won't even last that late into the night. And I'm going with a couple of friends."

"Who?" Seradiel and Kezareth say simultaneously.

"A friend who you don't know and whose name is none of your business," you snap.

"Tone," Seradiel warns, voice stern.

"I'll let you get ice cream and order whatever movie tickets you want for the next month," Kezareth bribes.

"I'm not a baby anymore! Stop treating me like one!" you shout. "You both promised to be more lax if I behaved 'better', but I've done everything you've asked. Yet you still treat me like I'm a child! Well, I'm not. So let me go out by myself for once!" You gesture to Seradiel. "Isn't free will a big part of being a human? Why would you work against that?"

Seradiel sighs. "And you do have free will. Either you go and let us come with you, or you don't go at all. That is a choice you are free to make."

"Why is it the only time you two seem as if you're able to work together, is when you're making my life miserable?" You stomp away towards your bedroom, throwing yourself onto your bed.

Kezareth throws Seradiel a look. "Wait to go."

"Are you seriously throwing the blame on me?" Seradiel scoffs. "You are just as immature as I remember! Perhaps even moreso! Do you even truly care about them, or are you just using this as an excuse to torment me?"

The demon huffs. "Oh, please, you aren't that special. You claim I'm the egotistical one, yet you think I came here just to spite you? Sure, the first reason I came here was because I was curious as to how you're doing, but my priorities have changed! Believe it or not, I do care about (Y/n). And if you choose not to believe it; not my problem!"

Just as Seradiel opens his mouth to retort, they both hear you sob. It's muffled and quiet, as if you're trying to conceal it, but they can hear it nonetheless. At that, any irritation dissipates.

They share a solemn glance and head towards your room.

Inside, you're laying in bed, your blankets sloppily pulled over you, back facing towards the door. Even when the pair enters, you don't acknowledge them.

"Precious, please don't cry," Kezareth coos, sitting beside you. "It hurts our hearts so much when you do that."

Seradiel sits down on the edge of the bed on the opposite side. "Is there anything you desire? You know we would do anything in the world for you." Despite his affectionate tone, his expression is downright heartbroken when he gazes at you.

You shift your position slightly so they can finally see your face, red and tear-stained. "Both of you suck," you mumble. "Every single day, you argue. And the worst part is, I can't escape it! You follow me everywhere! Sometimes it feels like I have no choice but to put up with you guys constantly nagging each other... And when you two actually agree on something, it's something that takes away from my freedom even more!"

Tears well in your eyes again, but Seradiel's fingers are quick to brush them away.

"Baby..." Kezareth says in a small voice. He takes off his glasses to rub his eyes, tears threatening them. "I'm sorry."

Seradiel sighs. "I am, too."

"I'm tired of feeling like your marriage counselor, or having to choose between one over the other," you continue. "I just want you to get along. Or at least tolerate being in the same room as each other." You wipe the rest of your tears away. "And if you have to argue, just do it somewhere I won't hear. Please."

Both of your guardian's faces soften.

They seem almost guilty, which is a rare expression on either of their faces.

"We'll work on our differences for you," Kezareth vows, shooting Seradiel a look. "Yeah?"

Seradiel exhales deeply, then nods. "Yes, that's the very least we can do. Whatever eases your mind." He gently grasps your hand, pressing a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Please, no more crying, my child. May I hold you?" He opens his arms invitingly.

Still mildly upset, you simply crawl towards him, burying your face in his robes. He cradles you like you're made of glass, humming softly in your ear to ease you, gently patting your back in a soothing motion.

Kezareth shifts to lay right behind you. His wings wrap around your frame to keep you warm.

In a weird way, you feel at home, protected by both your caretakers on either side of you. Before you know it, your eyelids begin to feel heavier as sleep consumes you.

"Nighty-night," Kezareth whispers. He and Seradiel share a look, silently agreeing to stay for the rest of the night.

[taruth3mighty]

I've been proposing the idea that CEO Charles is grieving Rebecca's death.

Due to many factors that doesn't seem like a coincidence.

Giving evidence for certain things that's happened in the timeline and explain why I believe this.

Let me go break down all the things that made me consider the possibility,

1. The Key Hunt is inevitable, and wouldn't you know it, Rebecca's death is also inevitable as if these two events are connected to one another.

[As if her death had to happen for the Key Hunt to happen, and of course why else would Charles take such risk and waste of the company's resources unless it was something that important to him.]

2. CEO Charles already has everything, loads of money, power and influence. And their goal isn't to take over the island, they want to help and expand that to other cultures.

[Why would he want the Keys to take over the island when all DoodleCo has done is try and help the island.] [DoodleCo is described to be altruistic by Suzie, and Suzie definitely knows more about DoodleCo than the average person.]

3. DoodleCo is actually losing more than they're gaining. Like he wants people to participate in the Key Hunt. That the Executives are encouraged to get keys.

[He's so far as willing to rank them up if they get their hands on one key. Why would he spend so much of their resources on the key hunt unless it's something important worth more than the company.]

-------------------------------------------------------

[Keep in mind I'm just going off based on what's been told to us in the game in dialog. I could be wrong on certain events.]

{Remember this is just some Food for Mind.}

[And also keep in mind that everyone experiences grief differently.]

--------------------------------------------------------

Denial.

I propose he couldn't accept what happened to her. And so he sought to fill that void with Portia instead. After all, Portia is Rebecca's daughter.

So, he personally put her there even when Portia was far from qualified for the role.

That's my explanation for why Charles put her there in the first place. Because he was denying that Rebecca was really gone. And it explains why Portia is there even though she's been constantly told that she sucks at her job by basically everyone.

Anger.

This is where things get a bit more complicated. This is where it starts to really set in for Charles that Rebecca's dead. And what from I can assume either from Teneson's rumors or him coming to his own conclusions.

Charles kicked out Lucas from the company. Which he has the power to do unlike Teneson.

[Teneson was never said to have been the one to kick Lucas out, all we know is that Teneson spread rumors that Lucas was responsible for Rebecca's death.]

And when that happened, Icyridge caught wind of it and as we all know. They adore Lucas Rimbaud like he's the second coming of Christ.

So that didn't stick well with them and even when Charles tried to go there as normal to convince them. They didn't allow that to happen. At least Desmond wouldn't.

And that frustrated and irritated Charles from what we know in Quincy's dialog. And likely out of said out of said irritation that the people of Icyridge were all savages and Quincy took that to heart.

Maybe after this, Charles had enough and gave Teneson an order to capture Riffraff.

[That would explain why Teneson is so hell-bent on catching Riffraff, not because it's what he wants. He's moved on from Rebecca's death.]

[But because he was ordered to do so by Charles. And as we know, he takes those orders very seriously. If we know anything about Portia's circumstance.]

[Though, I feel like if Charles did send Teneson to hunt Riffraff. It's very peculiar that Teneson is said to capture him and not kill him.]

So, it's clear at least to me, that Charles isn't doing it out of revenge or to avenge Rebecca. Deep down he probably misses Lucas.

As much as Charles is probably angry at Riffraff, Lucas was also one of his friends and one of the very few people who know who actually went down with Rebecca's death.

Which leads me to the next stage,

--------------------------------------------

Bargaining.

This is where a lot of really important stuff happens that actually directly lead to the main story.

Since it's where I believe that Joseph showed up and started to manipulate Charles about the Key Hunt. By telling Charles vague ideas and what will happen if they get all the keys. Imagine Charles thinking 'If only I could've stopped them' or 'What if this never happened' which results in Joseph convincing him, 'If you can get this, you could change her fate'

[Considering that Riffraff has said that DoodleCo has no idea what they're getting themselves into. And considering how much DoodleCo is associated with Charles, since he's the CEO, the face and the guy at the top.]

Here are the various things about the Bargaining stage,

> Involves making deals with yourself or a higher power to help cope with loss. > Often occurs alongside other difficult emotions like denial and anger. > Can be characterized by "If only" or "What if" statements. > Represents an attempt to regain control or alter the situation.

Charles made a deal with Joseph to start the key hunt, even if he didn't know what he was getting himself into. He still has Teneson capture Riffraff and keeps Portia in Rebecca's position and now puts Joseph in Lucas' old position. And he's the CEO of DoodleCo, with so many things going wrong, Rebecca's death, Icyridge and Riffraff's whole thing, it makes sense he'd want a sense of control.

[Like a certain fisherman Joseph also manipulated.]

Again, he just wants things to go back to the way it was. When things weren't so complicated and messy.

That's when the main story happens as he starts the Key Hunt, and where we see Charles. Everything is fine with him for a while.

But we don't see him even in Route 8 meeting, which happens every two weeks. And it's said to be an important meeting too, since all the executives meet up, yet he doesn't show up.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Depression.

Signs of depression in that stage is sadness, regret, loneliness, difficulty functioning, and most importantly social withdrawal. Now that last one is definitely Charles.

We haven't seen him ever since the first arc, in fact, Cortes implies that Charles hasn't been attending the meetings for a while.

"I'm saying that everyone here is pathetic. It's no wonder why the CEO doesn't care to show up to these meetings anymore." -Cortes

He's too far deep into the Key Hunt to back down, but this is the only real explanation I have for him not showing up for the Route 8 meetings for a while now.

Is that he's currently in the depression stage of his grief.

[Once again, keep in mind that everyone deals with grief differently, some people can skip a certain stage or go back to a stage or not progress for a while. Grief is a very complicated emotion.]

{And my analysis is just a way to interpret it, keep in mind this is just some Food for Mind.}

--------------------------------------------------------

Acceptance.

Now, this stage is one that hasn't happened yet, for obvious reasons. Because well, the story is still on going.

In fact, I'm going to say that we need to get Charles to accept the truth about Rebecca's death. Or if he doesn't know what happened to Rebecca, then we need to force the truth out of Riffraff.

Because that's the only way we'll get a happy ending, because Doodle World's story is trying to tell you how to accept something you've lost and move on with your life instead of clinging onto the past.

There's Suzie and her tastebuds, and that she needs to learn that whoever promised her tastebuds if she helped Player get the keys isn't real.

[Imma be fr with y'all, I genuinely think that mf that promised her that is Joseph, because ain't no way someone making a promise like that besides him.]

There's Zavier and his people, he needs to accept that no matter how hard he tries to go back in time, it has always resulted in failure.

But there's also a different theme that Doodle World is trying to tell.

That while you need to accept what you've lost. You don't have to do it alone. You have your friends beside you, and they can help you make that pain and hurt just a little lighter.

That's why throughout Icywood and Icyridge there's this theme of your group not falling apart. Because while Player can beat anyone in their path, they can only take on so much burden and they can't do everything on their own.

"We can't have your group collapse! My father, Desmond, said we needed you and your group to be healthy to stop whatever bad future Mr. Riffraff saw." -Anna

And when you're all alone, you're much more susceptible to being manipulated or hurt, just look at Charles. His one only friend left in the trio is considered a criminal and he probably did that, Riffraff doesn't seem to hold any grudge towards Charles and both of them clearly have their issues.

That's why it's so important to keep the friend group together, because not only the whole 'power of friendship' but genuinely having friends around can just help you.

I mean look at Suzie, when she got locked up, Quincy was focused on freeing her. If he didn't then she'd still be stuck in the dungeon. And look at Player, they wouldn't have been able to get the Miracle Key on their own because they couldn't have thought of the idea to sneak inside the underground lab.

The group help each other when they need one another, and that I feel like is what Doodle World is trying to tell with Charles and the group.

[theawkwardsiren]

fake dating - Veneer x F!Reader (fluff)

summary - Veneer asks you to be his fake girlfriend to help him ward off crazy fangirls and get the press off his back. however, your feelings are real and he doesn't know.

warnings - little bit angst, just a little bit

a/n: i need, need, NEED more Veneer content

Your inability to say no to Veneer is what actually landed you in this position. You knew it would probably not end well, but you said yes anyway because you'd do anything to help him and make him happy.

After all, how could you possibly say no when he came in one day singing your name, draping himself around you and batting his pretty eyes?

-

"(Name)~"

Your head instantly snapped up at the sing-song call of your name, heart fluttering at the sight of the green-haired teen. Butterflies formed in your stomach as he approached, worsening when he leaned over your desk to put his face close to yours.

"I have a favour to ask, darling," he practically purred, laying on the charm thick. "There's this problem I've been having with the public and it's getting super annoying, so I need you to fix it."

"Of course," you answered without hesitation, "What is it?"

"I need you to...be my fake girlfriend!" He proposed, making jazz hands as he did. His eyes gleamed with excitement, but you weren't sure why.

Your own eyes widened, almost choking on your saliva as you heard his words. Where on earth had that come from? Did he really mean it? Was he really asking-

"Earth to (Name)!" Veneer waved his hand in front of your face, amused at the shocked expression. "Oh come on, anyone would kill to date me! I mean...fake date me." He didn't sound very enthusiastic about the last part.

You swallowed thickly, weighing your options. You could get chewed out by Velvet for not assisting - which is your job - and risk losing whatever connection you have with Veneer. Or you could do your job and make the twins happy, while suffering from knowing that it could never be real.

"I'll do it."

-

The public went insane after hearing pop star Veneer had a girlfriend. After showing your face on the red carpet with him at an event, your face was all over the news and social media. Your followers skyrocketed, and soon everyone in Mount Rageous knew your name.

Which wouldn't have been bad if your relationship was actually real. Veneer was so affectionate and loving - or maybe just good at faking it - that you were finding it increasingly difficult to keep it a pretend relationship. Behind closed doors he would pull away, go back to being his usual self and forget you existed. And it hurt, a lot.

But what else could you do? You had to deal with it, and you dealt with it most times in your office, away from the obnoxious twins. You were careful not to have them walk in when you were upset or crying, because you knew they would just get irritated. Well Velvet would, Veneer might ask if you were okay, but that's if he wasn't with his sister.

"I cannot believe this is actually working," Velvet scoffed one day as you helped them get ready for another event. "It was such a stupid idea."

You tried to keep your composure as you finished doing her hair, but Veneer's words almost made you break it.

"Oh please, the public is eating it up! And I get to ward off crazy fans without actually having to be in a relationship. It's a win-win!"

Their conversation was very much slapping you in the face repeatedly, but you had to maintain a calm demeanor until you were done.

"There, all ready," you smiled, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. Which Veneer noticed, along with how your voice cracked. "Good luck out there, I'll just be in my office."

Before either of them could respond you were gone, finding refuge in the safe and comforting environment your office provided. Thinking the twins were already gone, you finally let the tears fall and slumped into your chair, burying your face in your hands. Little did you know, the male twin was standing right outside and could hear every sniffle and every sob you thought you kept down.

"VENEER!"

The shout startled you, and when you heard the sound of frantic footsteps fading, a horrible realisation hit you. Veneer had heard you.

-

After a few days of avoiding speaking to him any more than you had to, you finally worked up the courage to tell him you wanted this to stop, that you couldn't do it anymore.

"Veneer...this isn't working anymore," you couldn't even look him in the eyes as you said it, "I think your fans have gotten the point. We can stop now."

The boy looked pretty nonchalant on the outside, but he was panicking on the inside. Why were you saying all this? What was he doing wrong? Did you really hate the idea of dating him that much? Did this have anything to do with why he heard you crying in your office the other day?

"I don't understand," he frowned.

"I can't keep fake dating you for the rest of my life," you continued, "I want to have a real relationship, with someone who really loves me."

Your words were like a punch to his gut, knocking all the wind out of him. You had never known, but the green-haired pop star had always been in love with you, since you joined them as their assistant. The thought of you wanting someone else made his stomach churn unpleasantly.

That's why he had no idea why or how the words that he said next came out of his mouth.

"Then date me. For real."

Your jaw dropped, also unable to believe he just said that, "Veneer-"

"I want you, (Name), and I'm tired of pretending," he started moving closer, "I know I haven't exactly showed it, but I was scared you wouldn't feel the same way. I also don't want to keep pretending, but I don't want to see you with someone else. I want us to be real."

You were stunned into silence, trying to comprehend his words. You'd never expected him to feel that way about you, so now that he was here and confessing, it felt like a dream.

"I'm dreaming, right?" You asked, but the clock on your wall said otherwise.

"You dream of me?" He teased, hand reaching out to find yours.

"Every night," you admitted, heart skipping a beat. "I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to hear those words from you."

"Yeah?" He smiled, a genuine smile, "Cause I've been waiting a while to say them."

To say you were happy would be an understatement. The joy that flooded you was incomparable, and you immediately went to hug him, but he had other ideas. Your lips met, and it was the best feeling you'd ever experience. His lips were soft, warm, and tasted like mint. His spindly arms encircled your waist, pulling you to him so your chests met, head tilted to kiss you deeper. Your own arms wound around his neck, everything inside you turning to mush at the feeling of kissing the boy you have been insanely in love with for the longest time.

When you finally parted, you were both breathless and smiling like idiots in love. Which you were.

"I can't wait to do that on the red carpet," he managed to breathe out, turning your face that same colour.

And kiss you on the red carpet he did.

This boy is clingy, and extremely affectionate, which is what you loved about him. So he was kissing you every chance he got, showing you off to the world for real and clinging to you whenever you were at events. He was inseparable from you from the moment he confessed, which you didn't mind.

This was your dream, and you were finally living it.

[smytherines]

Hey, I saw that you were bored, and I am also bored, so have an ask! Your Owen headcanons are great, so I was wondering if you have any about Owen's interest in acting/theatre?

It's one of the things that's really interesting to me about his character, even though it only gets a brief mention in canon.

Sorry if you've answered something like this already!

Ooooooooo this is such a good ask

It's weird, because despite being a hardcore theatre kid myself (I spent ages 8-18 in a community theatre program doing 2 plays and a musical every year), I always tend to see Owen's interest in acting in relation to my autistic Owen headcanon, as allegorical instead of literal acting/theatre.

Although in my experience, masked autistic people make excellent actors because it's what we do all the time anyways- every social interaction is a performance. We finesse ways to deliver lines, body language, tone of voice. I have to physically stop myself from rocking or swaying. I say combinations of words I've memorized from TV, delivered in the style of whatever actor's delivery is most appealing to me. Before I was diagnosed I used to joke that I built my public personality around Lauren Graham's line deliveries in Gilmore Girls. (I also routinely quote that show in social interactions)

It's exhausting, but I can more or less be at a social event for a few hours and seem ~normal~ and then come home and fall apart. The only time I feel like I can really unmask is when I'm totally alone, and the more time I spend with others (even people I love and adore!) The more irritated I get, the more quickly I melt down, the less I'm able to keep up the "I'm totally normal" facade I've constructed.

Obviously I'm 1000% projecting onto this character, but that's kinda how I see Owen and how I write him. I mean he literally is masked for most of the show, the acting, the way he speaks and his body language changing based on who he's around and what he's doing, him putting on personas and playing characters, the specific way he speaks with his hands, the way he seems to fixate on certain interests and ideas and ideological positions, the way they emphasize his interest in details, just so much of that feels familiar to me.

I do think he probably would've enjoyed acting. It saved my life. I wouldn't have survived without learning how to be someone else, someone other people don't immediately reject. For a second I thought maybe he could've been involved in vaudeville as a teenager, like Cary Grant, but vaudeville was on its way out by the early 30s so that doesn't seem likely. He'd be too young for it.

But I imagine he really liked to read plays, even if he didn't necessarily have a way to act or to see theatre as a kid/young adult. I think in the chwm epilogue I wrote about him buying a used copy of Pygmalion (unless I deleted that in editing, I can't remember). I think he probably read a lot and listened to radio plays and listened to BBC News to perfect his respectable posh accent.

I've had a headcanon for awhile now that Curt and Owen used to have sneaky little late night movie dates, because they just both love movies so much. Curt loves the action and the fantasy, the heroics of 1950s cinema, probably westerns, war films, musicals. Owen likes noir, and sci-fi, and british kitchen sink social dramas (those might be a *bit* late for him but the precursors for that), and is fascinated with the mechanics of acting, picking things apart, like he almost sees it as research for their jobs.

That's mostly just because I love classic films from the 30s-60s and now any time I watch something that came out during their time period I find myself wondering how those characters would react to it.

To me, in my little headcanon, Owen Carvour meticulously built this image of the perfect dashing confident charming British spy. And eventually he meets Curt and he trusts Curt, he sees that they have these similar rough edges that they hide with arrogance and vanity, that they are both playing a role. Curt is the first person who more or less experiences the world the way Owen does- filtering out the unacceptable parts of themselves to get by.

Curt is the only person he ever feels safe even partially letting the act drop with. Not all the way, they could never be 100% vulnerable with each other like that. But enough that Owen feels... safe with Curt. Not just about their secret (although yes also that), but Curt is the only person Owen allows to see any vulnerability, any trace of who he really is. It's part of why what Curt does feels like such a betrayal, why Owen can't move past it. Because he had a relative safe harbor, one person on earth he trusted, and it nearly got him killed.

[maochira]

hehehehehheheheheheheh

can i request reader x demon!barou? ;; and maybe as an extra secnario where reader keeps asking stupid questions about the demon body parts (e.g.: "can you feel it if I touch your horns" "could you lift something with your tail") ykyk

love ya pupsi dupsi mwah

I LOVE THAT SCENARIO HELP

Requests open! - event list

Tags: gn!reader x demon!Barou

First meeting

It's not much more than a regular morning for you. Everything has been going as always. Just when you're in your kitchen to have breakfast, you can't manage to open the jam jar, no matter how hard you try. Out of nowhere, a deep voice asks "You need help with that?" and when you raise your head, you see a tall demon standing in front of you. Of course, that startles you so much that you immediately drop the jar and it shatters into countless tiny pieces on the ground. "That's a great start..." The demon mockingly mumbles under his breath.

General headcanons

-everything about Barou's demon features is big. His wings almost reach the ground (but he keeps them folded most of the time), his horns grow out a little above his forehead and they're like 15cm big and his tail is dragon-like and has a row of spikes going down

-you always fear he's going to accidentally knock something over, but Barou has learned how to be careful, so nothing ever happens. He probably knocked something over once when you weren't around but he'd never admit that he messed something up

-even though his actual job is just to keep you company, Barou does a lot of your housework just because he thinks you can't manage to do everything on your own. At some point, he ends up doing all of it so there's nothing left for you to do

-you jokingly call him your maid sometimes, but every time he starts holding you a speech about what his job is, that you should be thankful for him, and that he'd "leave you if he wasn't connected to you now" (he wouldn't, he got emotionally attached to you after two days)

How you fell in love with each other

You were the first one to fall for him, and it didn't take long. Maybe two weeks? You were almost constantly around each other, after all. Although, you didn't plan on confessing those feelings because you didn't know if you were allowed to date him anyways. After a few more weeks, Barou slowly found himself falling for you as well but he kept denying it as soon as the thought popped up. Although at some point, he got irritated with pushing those feelings away. And since he's going to be stuck with you for who knows how long - possibly forever - he decided he should just tell you how he feels. He already noticed how much you liked him a while ago anyways.

Extra scenario (before you started dating)

"Do you feel that?" You ask while reaching out your hand to touch one of Barou's horns. "I told you not to touch me without asking first." Barou growls while pushing your hand away. "And no, I don't feel that. I already told you I don't have nerves in my horns." - "Okay but..." You reach your hand out once again, this time towards one of Barou's wings, "Do you-" - "Stop touching me!" Barou almost yells as he pushes your hand away once again. Seeing him so easily irritated is funny to you, so you can't help but burst out in laughter. "Okay, okay, sorry." - "What did I do to deserve being stuck with you..." Barou mumbles under his breath and gets ready to continue whatever he was doing before. But you could swear there's at least a slight blush on his face.

Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @remy-roll @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @weichspuelertrinker @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @slowlyholypeanut @isagikisser

[silverynight]

The roommate

<----Previous

Part XIV

They have a nice dinner and Izuku decides not to mention anything so Shoto and he can enjoy their night, although part of him is still thinking about it.

Katsuki arrives early in the morning and the noise coming from the entrance wakes Izuku up, he moves carefully so Shoto can sleep a little bit longer and puts something on to greet his other boyfriend in the living room.

"How was your–" Izuku gets cut off by strong arms around him, lifting him from the ground suddenly.

Katsuki pulls him close to his chest and kisses him all over the face like he was away for a month instead just a couple of hours.

That's getting weird.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Of course I'm okay," Izuku mumbles, narrowing his eyes at him. "Why wouldn't I be? I'm not the one who risks his life every day, you and Shoto are."

"It's not the same."

"Kacchan..." Izuku says as a warning, pulling away and prompting Katsuki to pout. This is getting a little bit irritating, especially because he knows there's a reason for this kind of behavior and no one wants to tell him. "What's going on?"

That's when he feels a kiss on the top of his head and realizes Shoto is already up. Even better because he needs an explanation.

"Let's make breakfast first."

"Shoto..." Izuku narrows his eyes, putting both hands over his hips.

It's actually Katsuki the one who takes a deep breath, exchanges a look with the other pro hero before putting both hands on top of Izuku's shoulders.

For a moment Izuku can see all the concern in those red eyes and he starts worrying too.

"What's happening?"

"Do you know about the disappearances?" Shoto asks carefully, hugging Izuku from behind.

"A little bit," he admits. "My coworkers started talking about it at work."

"We haven't caught the fucker yet," Katsuki growls, looking like he hates the villain already, well... Izuku can't blame him for that, he's kidnapping innocent people.

"But what does have to do with–"

Shoto cuts him off with a kiss on the back of his head, burying his face in his wild, green curls for a moment.

"At first we thought they didn't have a pattern, that they just picked random people on the streets; they're all adults, but they could male, female, different ages, different jobs... And that didn't help with the investigation at all."

"But then ponytail..."

"Kacchan!" Izuku scolds him lightly, stroking his cheek, Katsuki takes the opportunity to hold his hand and kiss his knuckles. They have talked about the nicknames he uses for the people he knows, that one isn't particularly rude, but he uses a couple that are not kind at all.

"Sorry," he rolls his eyes. "Yaoyorozu realized that none of them were single."

"Okay... I get it, you're worried because I'm not single either."

Katsuki shakes his head and Shoto leans to kiss Izuku's cheek.

"We also found out they all are in some sort of relationship with a pro hero."

"And you're dating two," Katsuki finishes before pulling Izuku to give him a possessive kiss on the lips. He's obviously worried, they both are.

"That doesn't mean they're coming after me, Kacchan." Izuku whispers, feeling a little out of breath, his cheeks are probably pink.

"But you're certainly at risk," Shoto argues, before turning him around to give Izuku a kiss too.

"That doesn't mean you should change your work schedules for me!"

"It's already done," Katsuki informs him with the stubborn determination that Izuku recognizes perfectly well. He knows nothing will make him change his mind. "You knew us well before starting dating us. Overprotection comes with the package."

He's right, of course he is.

Izuku sighs.

"Alright... Just don't... over do it."

He notices that none of them say anything to that, but he supposes he can deal with that later.

"Let's have breakfast together."

Izuku really hopes they catch the villain soon.

***

The next days are a little bit difficult for Izuku; it's not like he doesn't appreciate his boyfriends' concern, it's just that he's used to take care of himself.

They have changed their shifts so Izuku doesn't spend a single minute alone; it's fine for the most part because he loves them and likes when they keep him company, but knowing the main reason behind it makes it a little less... cute.

It's okay. Izuku knows they're under a lot of stress at the moment, considering they haven't caught the person responsible and now they also have to keep an eye on him.

They have become a little bit clingy in the past days too; Izuku usually finds himself with Katsuki's arms around him and resting his cheek against his chest; Shoto sits him on his lap or sometimes he sits on the floor, right below Izuku so he can place both of his freckled legs over his shoulders.

"Listen... My day off is tomorrow and I know how busy you two are so I've decided I'm going to spend it inside the apartment and–"

Shoto and Katsuki look at each other before the blond pro hero nods.

"I'll take a day off tomorrow, Izuku."

The green haired man sighs.

"You're not listening, I'm going to stay inside... So you don't have to worry."

"The villain could break into the apartment," Shoto argues.

"Well, yes... But you told me all the other people have been taken from the streets," Izuku protests. "So it wouldn't make too much sense to suddenly change their MO for me."

"You could be right, but that doesn't mean it'd make us feel better; I know we'll both be distracted during work thinking something could happen to you while we're busy doing something else," Katsuki says, voice shaking, red eyes filled with so much worry and fear, Izuku feels immediately sorry. "Don't ask me or Shoto to go through that..."

"I won't."

It's fine... they're definitely many benefits of having one of his boyfriends home. Although Izuku ends up covered in bite marks the next day; he needs to use a turtle neck to go back to work the next day.

"I bet I can leave more on him," Shoto says that night, when he finally sees them.

"Oh, it's on!" Katsuki smirks, prompting Izuku to blush to the tip of his ears; he shouldn't feel so flustered at this point, it's not the first time something like that happens after all.

Izuku has to use turtle necks and long trousers for the next days and it doesn't help that his co-workers are constantly glancing at him with smirks on their faces.

"We're happy for you, Midoriya!"

"Please, stop talking!"

Izuku is embarrassed, but at least it takes his mind away from all the kidnappings for a while.

***

Next--->

Patreon

[verdemoun]

So sorry for spamming your inbox 😰😰 but you mentioned the gang kinda infantilizing timewarp Kieran and thinking that he wouldn't know what sex is when in actuality that man FUCKS!!! And especially since I think you've said he has anxiety and autism or atleast autistic traits and it's common for allistics to think that autistic people can't make choices or advocate for themselves does he get a bad bitch moment of telling other gang members to STFU!!! And that he has infact been living in modern times for several years and doesn't need to be coddled through everything. Or am I looking into a single line too hard and I'm actually crazy

I am going to kiss your brain that was a very intentional deliberate line congratulations on picking it up!!!!! Yes that was a very conscious seg-way into the gang tending to infantilize Kieran a little and he will absolutely manipulate it.

Sometimes - sometimes he does appreciate it. Sometimes he needs those borderline childish comforts people wouldn't think to offer an adult. If Lenny is struggling they will offer him a whiskey and a night out at the bar, which if Kieran was already not in a good headspace would be Hell. The fact the gang would sooner bring him his safe snacks and hot chocolate and a plush blanket while he watches cartoons is comforting even if it is coming from a place of not entirely seeing him as an adult. But it gets irritating. Being semi-verbal, even when he expresses said frustration it can get brushed off and it just adds to the irritation . The gang freaking out over room shuffling to make room for a new timewarped person: Kieran he would offer his room knowing it was temporary and is fine sleeping on the couch, hell he'd probably enjoy sleeping on a bedroll in the backyard for a few days/weeks: but they won't even consider asking Kieran for anything.

But most of the time he manipulates it. Hosea never lectures Kieran about a job because poor helpless boy could never survive the real world so he gets to live easy staying at Bessie's house or Annabelle's being absolutely spoiled. All he needs to do is flash his big old sad eyes and the gang will give him cash for whatever he wants. Sometimes it's the latest breyer horse model, sometimes it's alcohol and a few galaxy brownies. No questions, no bills, he's living the millennium dream.

Javier is the first one to see through his pouty playing into the infantilization and is honestly just jealous he can't get away with it himself. Calling Hosea out like 'stop telling me to get a job you never tell Kieran to get a job are you saying my patito is less capable because his brain works different despite being you more than willing not to say anything to protect him from being a whipping boy in the old days???' and Hosea has to walk away he is simultaneously stunned and ashamed. Still doesn't start nagging Kieran to get a job and Kieran playfully whacks Javier for even risking putting the idea in his head. He likes easy street and feels he's bloody earned it after his life experiences.

The number one thing that reminds the gang Kieran is not baby boy is any shooting game. He is first pick in paintball or laser tag or anything similar because the Kieran Duffy 'tendency not to mention how capable I actually am' started long before modern era and he is a terrifyingly good sharp shooter. First time the gang realised he was the last man standing and had taken out everyone in pvp they were almost annoyed why didn't you bring this up in canon era and he brushes it off with a teehee I like horses more. Bordering on being a brat about it sometimes and the gang still don't notice how much they tend to infantilize him. He will abuse the assumption he is incapable of things like it's lumbago, he isn't lazy he just doesn't like being expected to work and for the most part won't go out of the way to correct the infantilized assumption he can't do things by himself.

[pigeonwhumps]

Contract 2

Bug and Company masterlist

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages @flowersarefreetherapy @painful-pooch @whumplr-reader

Introducing Bug's primary handler.

696 words

CWs: BBU, pet whump, whumper pov, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper (sadism only mentioned), dehumanisation, institutional pet whump, mentions of breaking people, mentions of torture

Bill jerks awake when the papers slap him in the chest.

"I wasn't asleep, and they're secure anyway," he murmurs. Then he sees who's standing over him and scrambles backwards. "Shaniqua. You're 134U's primary?"

"The one and only." She smirks down at him. "You're lucky it is me. Sleeping on the job? What would people think?"

Bill shrugs. "The paperwork's finished, this sofa's comfortable, and the new pet isn't doing anything interesting."

"I didn't think you'd have finished staring at their tits yet. Apparently, I was wrong."

"You were. I mean they're cute, and their tits are gorgeous, but there's not enough fear there yet. There's only so long you can watch a pet stay in one place when you're unable to do anything to them."

"You should become a handler. We'd love to have you."

"But then I wouldn't get to watch the intake. That's the fun part, especially with defiant ones. Getting to watch their fear and resignation."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me." She whistles sharply. "726E, heel."

A young man trots into the room carrying two plates of food and a jug of water. Bill raises an eyebrow. Shaniqua doesn't usually eat while she works.

"The nachos are for you. And you'll see what I'm doing with the rest of it. 726E, place everything on the coffee table."

726E obeys, then kneels gracefully at Shaniqua's feet. She ruffles his hair.

"Good boy."

Bill remembers this one, he thinks. One of his most defiant intakes initially, but so quick to snap like a twig at the first hint of pain.

"Entertainment class, huh? What tricks can he do?"

Shaniqua grins. "Roll over. Play dead. Freeze."

The pet freezes like a statue, one arm and a leg in the air.

"Okay, back to default."

He moves back to a knelt position at Shaniqua's feet.

"You've done wonders on him," says Bill admiringly. "Final test today?" Shaniqua nods. "How do I help? Surprisingly, my shift has never actually ended up coinciding with one before."

She chucks a mostly-full notebook onto his lap. "Stay with him while he watches the new intake, and write down whenever he has any sort of reaction to it. I need to make sure they're in line with what his prospective wants."

"Gotcha. Can I play with him?"

"Later. If you promise to be extra good in bed tonight."

Bill grins, already relishing the thought of both. "Now that's a deal I can get behind."

"Excellent." She pats the carpet at Bill's feet, and 726E crawls over, kneeling there instead. Then she wanders over to the intake room (plate and jug in hand) and peers through the floor-to-ceiling window at the new pet. "Certainly cute. Good call on the hair, by the way. I'm surprised though. That's a lot of restraints, even for you. Your manipulation skills going?"

"The information their foster parents gave was sparse, and they don't have a lot that I can guess they care about. Brute force was the best way to go."

Shaniqua whistles lowly. "Okay, yeah, I get it. Not so easy to use that. Wow. I feel like I'm gonna have a lot of fun with them."

Bill chuckles. He knows she enjoys using the more advanced methods to break and rebuild pets, that's why she did extra training, but she doesn't always get much of a chance.

"Just... I don't know, be a little careful? We spent a lot of money on them. You remember how long you had to spend training on X-designated pets before you learned where to stop."

Shaniqua flips him off without looking, and he smiles. She gets irritated by him constantly bringing that up, but it's true. She probably has the highest track record of Xs entirely destroyed. It's a good thing that's why they keep them.

Shaniqua squares her shoulders, grins, and saunters into the intake room. The door locks automatically with a quiet snick, a sound all pets learn to be afraid of.

He picks up a cheese-covered nacho and pops it in his mouth, nudging the pet at his feet to make sure he's in his peripheral vision. Now to sit back and enjoy the show.

[dameronswife]

9, 11 and 15 for the General Selfship ask game :)

hey thanks for the question!!! <33 I like your url!

9. How long have you been part of the selfshipping community? How long before have you selfshipped without being aware of the community or publicly partaking in it?

That is an excellent question with a very complicated answer! So, I've been self-shipping probably my whole life, in terms of "imaginary friends" and such (when I was little, like prior to ten, I had a big huge crush on a.nakin and kind of imaginary friend'd that, and then did so even more with the eleventh doctor when I was 13/14, even read some x reader, BUT I wouldn't classify that as "romantically" self shipping bc I was very irritated with all the romance and was like. ugh. fine if i love him and think he's cute I gUESS I'll kiss him if i have to it's basically a job requirement for companions anyway).

But actually shipping an oc with a character? I've been doing that since 2017, and if you guessed that it was for Poe, you'd be right. I stopped reading x reader for a long time, but abruptly remembered they existed and started reading them again and made up an oc that had a history with Poe for a sequel trilogy au I was writing at the time; she kind of ended up being a lot like Z.orii, a bounty hunter character who had a backstory with Poe (they met in the navy though). They didn't wind up together, because at the time I guess the possibility didn't occur to me, but they did kiss (and I described Poe as looking like an angel, lmao).

Flashforward to 2021, and a late night (for me) conversation with my partner @hermitmoss resulted in us tossing around what would happen if their s/i met the resistance crew, and that snowballed into fae mentioning that my already existing Star Wars s/i Volya, would immediately crush on Poe...and with a lot of enablement on faer's part, I wound up....shipping Volya entirely with Poe. They describe it as "how I started openly dating Poe around [my partners]" and they're not incorrect in the slightest!

Then in 2022, I followed someone who self-ships and asked them about it and they explained to me what the community was, and what it entailed, and I realized I'd been doing it my whole life. Shortly after, I made a blog for it specifically!

11. Do you incorporate kink into your selfships? If yes, any kinks you prefer?

[nervous laughter] would you look at the time. no, I kid, I kid. I've been wondering about Volya's kinks for a long time, in all honesty - there's a lot I like to play around with, for her and Poe. Title kink definitely comes up for them, but I think a big one is soft d/s vibes. Also there's the tiny fact that I kind of COMPLETELY unintentionally wrote Volya perfectly into the role of an omega, if I ever did an omegaverse au. Seriously, when I finally asked one of my partners about it and they gave me a rundown and I was like holy shit. It's kind of impressive lmao.

But yeah, I think a lot of soft d/s, maybe some bondage - I think that would be an interesting thing to explore with Poe and Volya's respective traumas. I think they'd definitely think roleplay would be fun they'd get a crack out of it, I bet.

As for Emilia and Marc, I haven't decided what kinks they're into, but I definitely think they're freaky. she's a spider person, and every spider hero seems really into kinky sex, and I don't think she's an exclusion to the rule. But I haven't thought enough on their sex life yet to get totally into what they'd both be into. I definitely think their respective superhero staminas get a lot of use though

15. If you're fictionfolk, how does that affect your selfships?

One quick google search later...I do think I am probably a little bit fictionfolk, I certainly can relate anyway, especially being a system host when majority if not all of my headmates are fictives. Uhm, I mean I don't know - I feel like it definitely adds a component to the sense of yearning I have. I'm not just yearning for Poe, you know, the Resistance, D'Qar - that genuinely feels like home for me. I feel, genuinely, like I was born in the wrong world, and that's why this one is so hard for me and why I can't find my footing in it. Like...I am yearning for the place that I feel like I do genuinely belong; I poured...so much of myself into Volya. She is me, and I am her. It is a moebius strip, she is the deepest, innermost parts of myself made ink; she is everything I love about myself, everything I loathe about myself, every piece of me I've fought to hide because it felt too vulnerable to show anyone. She holds all my desires, she has the family I crave and long for, she gets to touch and hold and kiss and make love to Poe, she gets to stand up for herself and what she believes in, she gets to call Leia mother...

It's a good kind of hurt, but it's still a hurt. And I think it definitely impacts how I self-ship at least with Poe; I don't have that same sense of yearning for the universe that Marc is in, because that's basically my reality, so I haven't quite been able to pour myself so directly into Emilia yet. Emilia is a part of myself, she has a lot of backstory similiarities to me, but she's a lot cooler than me. A lot more self-reliant. But I know where I end, and she begins. I don't with Volya.

Well...apart from the fact that she's blue and I'm not, anyway.

general self ship asks!

[theleg]

Week 2: Mirror sex, edging - L x (fem)reader

@dnkinktober

ao3 account: ArsonistsXD (its satire, I swear)

You sit in a grayish room, one that resembles a jail cell. There are no windows, and you’re sitting

in a chair, completely tied up. After a small tug you learn that there's no way to move.

You hear a slight buzz, then a voice comes in through what seems like an intercom. The voice has a robotic filter over it.

"You have been put under suspicion for being the Second Kira. All of the evidence that we have gathered points toward you. Do you want to confess?” the electronic voice asserts.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. I have absolutely no relation to Kira or the Second Kira!” you stammer, looking at the security camera placed in the right corner of the cell.

“Don’t try to lie. I know it’s you, everything we have gathered shows that you are Kira," says the man through the voice filter. There’s a hint of certainty and confidence that leaks out. You just shake my head, shocked at the bizarre situation you’re in.

Never once had you ever even considered helping Kira. Not that you could, you have no connection to them. But whoever is speaking to you thinks otherwise, and it's your job to prove your innocence. After gathering your thoughts, you speak again.

"I don't know who you are, or why you're accusing me of this, but you're wrong. I would never do such an awful thing," you claim, your voice coming off as more confident then you feel.

"We'll see about that," the voice says dismissively. You scan over the plain gray room with hopes of finding where the voice is playing from, but it seems to be hidden. You have no idea why there would be a need to hide a speaker, but there's probably a good reason.

You lean back into your chair, trying to get comfortable within the restraints. There's no point in replying, so you just sit back and relax. You can't think of any way to prove you're not some insane murder's psychotic copycat, but there's absolutely no way this robo-guy can prove something that isn’t true. For now, all you can do is stare at the wall, looking as pissed off as you feel.

"Now, tell me about your home life. Oh, and any friends, or connections you may have," the voice orders after realizing you had no reply.

"Wouldn't you like to know," you shot back. You figure that if you’re going to stay tied up in this dull room, you might as well have fun with it.

"Yes, I would like to know. While I already know most of your daily routine and hobbies, it would be nice to know what you do in more detail. Maybe you could make me familiar with your acquaintances," whoever is speaking must be either stupid, or such a wreck socially to have not caught onto the sarcasm. Or they're just ignoring it.

"Creep.." you mutter under your breath, with no intention to answer any questions. You find no point in answering things this stranger already knows, it's not like you have any secrets.

"This will go by faster if you cooperate with us," they say, having a frustrated undertone to their voice. You assume they'd rather do anything than be dealing with your shit, but they stay anyway.

"Don't care. I'd cooperate if you hadn't accused me of something I didn't do," you roll your eyes, wanting to be here no more than the voice. Nobody is happy with this.

"Don't give me that, as I've said, all evidence I've gathered points toward you. Your schedule, your connections, even your personality," they list these out with what can only be confidence shining through the robotic tone.

"I'm not a killer," you spit, your voice growing annoyed and irritated. Before the person you had been talking to can respond, you can hear faint talking on the other end. By straining your ears, you make out small words like 'wrong' and 'out'.

The talking on the other end continued for a few moments. After a bit, it stops, then the voice cuts back on to your room.

"I’m sorry. It seems you have been telling the truth. One of our very incompetent members had gotten you mixed up with our true target. We will let you out, but it will take a few minutes," a rush of both anger, and relief rushes through you.

Before you can respond, an older man with a white mustache comes into the room and starts to untie your restraints. He looks polite enough, so you figure some conversation would be nice.

"Were you the one on the other end?" you ask, voice now more polite.

"Oh, no, you were talking to the lead detective, I’m just the middleman," he says with a chuckle. I give a soft hum in response to acknowledge him.

"Am I gonna meet this lead detective? I'd like to know who had me tied up here. I've heard that ‘L’ is the head of the Kira case. It’s him, isn’t it?" you ask, wanting to know the asshole that had you restrained in this room for a solid thirty minutes. The old man hesitates for a moment as he finishes untiring you, before the robotic voice cuts back on.

"I would not mind meeting you. And yes, I am L," they say, before cutting off again.

The older man helps you up and leads you out of the room, through several locked doors. The room he takes you to is full of monitors, and is considerably big. But, the thing that stands out the most to you is black-haired man, sitting strangely in a chair.

"Watari, please give us a moment," The man says to who you now know as Watari. Watari nods and exits the room, leaving just you and the black haired man, who you now notice also had huge eye bags.

"I'd like to apologize to you. It was our task force member, Matsuda, who had gotten you mixed up with the correct suspect. I am L, the one speaking to you while you were tied up," he speaks about Matsuda with a hint of venom, which in this case, you think you would too.

"Well, at least I get an apology. And it would be great from someone like you," you say with a teasing tone. L looks like he's dying, but for some reason, you find him really, really attractive. He may be the “World’s Greatest Detective,” but what bad could it be to flirt just a little?

"Someone like me?" He asks, not picking up on the flirting tone.

"Well yeah, someone attractive, like you," you explain to the clearly uneducated man. This causes him to look a little surprised, with a light tint of red creeping onto his cheeks.

"You think I'm attractive?" L questions. It's at this moment you realize that you could have a lot of fun messing with him.

"Well who wouldn't? I won't be surprised if you were good in bed too," you smirk as you say this. A part of you didn't want to go that far, but the rest of you wanted to mess with this slightly pathetic detective.

"I don't know if I am, I've never done.. that.. before," he chews on his thumb nail as he talks, the red tint on his cheeks becoming more notable. You had assumed he was a virgin, honestly, but you don't care. It just makes it easier for you to tease him.

"Would you want to?" you ask, under the assumption he'll decline. You wouldn't mind if he said yes, of course, but you've known him for maybe forty minutes. To your surprise, he gives a small nod.

"Yes, I'd like to see what it's like.. and you seem like a good option for it," his tone makes it sound like he isn’t talking about fucking a person he just met, let alone someone he had been interrogating.

"Alright, where's the bedroom then?" you ask with a slight smirk. You’re astounded that he agreed, but now that he accepted you have to go through with it. L stands up and starts walking, waving for you to follow.

"Follow me, it’s.. up these stairs,” he states, still continuing to awkwardly gesture toward where to go. You follow, an amused smile on your face at how nervous he seems.

You walk up a flight of stairs and he opens a small, white door for you. He lets you enter before he follows behind and closes the door.

"How do we start..?" He asks, clearly flustered. You reply by grabbing his hand and dragging him over to the bed, sitting him down and leaning over him.

"Do you wanna start slow?" you ask, not wanting to overwhelm the detective.

"Yes please.." he looks down as he responds in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

"Alright, I'll start us off slow," you lean down and plant a soft kiss on his lips, making him grow weaker under you. You put a finger under his chin to make him lift his head more as you deepen the kiss.

You stay like that for a few moments, before you pull back, making him look disappointed. Noticing this, you lean back in for another, more aggressive kiss. This time, you open your mouth just enough for him to do the same. You slip your tongue into his warm mouth and he begins to catch on, letting his tongue and movements become fluid.

As both of you make out, you use both of your hands to lift up L's shirt. You both part lips for just a moment to take his shirt off, then continue to kiss.

Your hands run over his bare chest, feeling every bit you can put your hands on. Each part of his body is thin and boney, but you don't care, you love all bodies. You break the kiss once more to move down and start planting small kisses down his neck, causing him to softly whine.

You both stay like that for what feels like forever, before you feel him hardening under you, causing you to smirk. You run a hand over his crotch as you kiss and he shivers.

"Please.. I need more than this.." L says, his voice weak and nervous. You stare at him for a moment before getting an idea.

"Alright, of course," you pull him up with force and push him face first against the body mirror in the bedroom. "But you get to watch yourself," you add with a smirk. He gives a meek nod, not willing to fight it.

You press yourself against his back and unzip his pants, then pull them down, including his underwear. You can now see just how hard he's gotten from everything.

You run your finger lightly over the blunt tip, making him moan softly. His moans are a lot quieter than you thought they'd be. Before he's about to ask you to start, you wrap your hands firmly around his dick and start stroking him. He arches his back with pleasure, trying to keep his eyes away from the mirror he's pressed against.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be this big, L. I was underestimating what you were hiding in those baggy jeans..” you tease. He twitches in your hand, so you assume he’s enjoying it.

As you use one hand to stroke him with a slowly increasing pace, you use your other hand to grab his chin and make him look at himself. This pulls him closer to the edge, his moans getting slightly louder.

"You're doing good," you murmur with a soft smirk on your face as you keep your grip from around his cock.

Just before he's about to cum, you pull your hand away. He looks back at you, both confusion and lust apparent on his face.

"You're not gonna finish just yet," you whisper in his ear. L looks upset, but he knows he's in no place to argue with you.

You get in front of L and kneel in front of him, so he's still facing the mirror as you face his throbbing dick. He stares down at you with anticipation, clearly in want of release.

You give his dick a long lick on its underside and kiss his tip teasingly. You plant small kisses up and down his length, making him whine. Watching him grow this needy was amusing, but you couldn't blame him for being so overstimulated. You wrap your lips around the head and move down from there.

You're fitting more and more into your mouth, before L bucks his hips forward and bottoms out in your mouth. You softly moan onto his dick as you start to slowly bobbing your head on it. L continues to moan and whine, becoming completely undone at your touch.

You continue to pick up speed for a few more moments before L leans forward, keeping himself up by leaning on your head as he pants and moans. Originally, you were going to keep edging him for a lot longer, but knowing this is his first time, you keep going until he cums in your mouth. You swallow it, then stand to help him stay up.

"Are you okay?" you ask, hoping none of this was too much for his first time. He gives a subtle nod.

"You can sit on the bed, I'll set up a bath for you," you tell him before walking into the bathroom connected to the room. As you're turning on the bath, L walks in and kisses you softly, and you kiss him back. He breaks the kiss and looks in your eyes.

“I enjoyed what we did tonight,” L voices as he looks at you with a rare smile. He reaches his arms out to what seems like the beginning of a hug, so you wrap your arms around him in return.

“I’m glad that I could be of service,” you reply, gently holding the detective with a warm grin.

[goshiikkuburcdo]

waxgentleman asked: Galdino can't really blame Buggy for not wanting to participate in these meetings, those two never spare him. He's always running too—doing the possible to not even cross in their field of view. His old boss for obvious reasons.. but in Mihawk case? Who wouldn't be afraid of the strongest swordsman of the entire earth? It's called being sane. Since all he had to do was to tell them about their monthly's income, he's obligated to attend instead of the clown. When Mr3 opens the door he's taken by surprise only seeing Mihawk there. That's feel somehow worse! The pressure in that room is killing him. "Oh Good evening!...................Actually—would you excuse me for a second? ga ne." He closes the door and immediately sounds of a muffled screaming can be heard. After a few minutes of whimpering, the artist enters the room again with tired eyes and a faint smile. "I see Crocodile didn't arrived yet—Buggy sadly won't be participating this time, ga ne. Would you like a heads up or do you prefer to wait, Mister Mihawk?" (HMM BIT LONGER THan I planned but i Hope it's alright!!🤝)

Of course it appeared no one else was going to take any of this seriously, despite having been so seemingly excited for this alliance. It should have come as no surprise that the clown was either too scared or too lazy to bother while Crocodile was happy enough to leave anything that irritated him to someone else to deal with.

This was the same type of redundant, tiring theater as he had dealt with during his time with the warlords. Truly it seemed nothing changed.

Finally though someone approached, eyes narrowed when eyes rested on neither clown nor Crocodile. Of course. While he was clearly irritated, there was a part of him that felt a bit of relief. Dealing with both those fools tended to end with him rubbing away a headache and medicating himself with a full bottle of wine in order to keep from swinging Yoru at them. Quickly though that relief was dashed when the man that approached faltered and squealed while attempting to stall and hide.

"I prefer not to have my time wasted. If you speak for them, then speak already." He stated, clearly ignoring the muted whines coming from the man. If they were to wait, it would be all night. Mihawk didn't have that amount of patience for this. "Perhaps you will retain this little job if you can prove your reliability. Clearly they cannot. Just, stop shrieking." Hopefully the offer of trust would relieve the man and create someone that could get something done. Someone he could actually deal with without wishing to walk into the ocean.

Mihawk settled back and waved a hand, inviting him to have a seat and get more comfortable. "Do I even want to ask what the clown's excuse is this time?" No, probably not. He loosed a dramatic sigh. "Lets move on. What are the numbers?"

[trans-yllz]

the after school program I work for will do long 8:30 to 4:30 days when there's no school sometimes and monday is a long day so my boss emailed everyone asking what hours they wanted and I asked to start at 10:30 but she sent out the schedule today and it has me starting at 1?? when someone else who said they're available for whatever is needed is starting at 10:30??? I'm hoping it's a mistake and I'm going to talk to her about it today but if it's Not ooooh I'm going to be so fucking angry

[walkawaytall]

This this this.

Many people who've had to get autoimmune disorders diagnosed learn this the hard way (and Lord help you if you have an autoimmune disorder and happen to be overweight -- even if weight gain is a symptom of the disorder you have). Thyroid in particular is frustrating because most GPs run a test on TSH only and declare thyroids "normal" even though:

You can have an autoimmune thyroid disorder and a normal TSH. It's super easy; I've done it for over a decade. But that doesn't mean that my autoimmune thyroid condition isn't affecting my body. Before diagnosis and treatment, I was resting all day to work 4.5-hour shifts at a job where I sat the majority of the time. I was 25 years old and having to make decisions between seeing friends for a couple of hours and doing dishes because I physically could not do both in the same day. But my TSH was normal! It's always normal!

"Normal" on paper doesn't mean normal for me. I know after 12 years of being afflicted with Hashimoto's thyroiditis that I feel best if my TSH is under 1.5. When it gets up to 2, I feel like absolute garbage and cannot function like a normal human being. But the normal range that labs list is often 0.5-5.0, so having a doctor that puts more emphasis on bloodwork results rather than the patient experiencing not-normal things in their own body leads to the patient being blamed for things like fatigue, weight gain, etc. when running other thyroid tests (like antibody tests and testing actual thyroid hormone levels) would likely show that things are not working the way they should.

It took four or five months for me to be diagnosed with Hashimoto's because, even though I have an extensive family history of a variety of thyroid diseases, my TSH was normal. My antibodies weren't. But I wouldn't find that out until I finally sent myself to an endocrinologist, something I only knew to do because most of the women on my mom's side of the family have thyroid problems. My GP did not suggest this to me because my TSH was normal. That's four or five months that I spent essentially sleeping and barely able to do anything because an expert didn't refer me to a specialist or run further tests despite my symptoms and family history all because of a normal TSH.

Almost exactly nine years after I was finally diagnosed with Hashimoto's, I woke up one morning with pain and swelling in both of my wrists even though I had done nothing to irritate them. Most people would probably just think this is weird, but since joining the Autoimmune Disorder Club means that developing other autoimmune disorders is more likely, I was worried about rheumatoid arthritis -- something that often shows up in mirroring joints at the same time. The PA at the clinic at my work ran an ANA, a standard test for a range of autoimmune disorders. Mine was negative (it's always negative). The PA ran a rheumatoid factor test. Mine was negative (it's always negative). X-rays were done. They were normal. I was diagnosed with De Quervain tenosynovitis in both arms even though I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary that would have resulted in overuse, which is what De Quervain tenosynovitis is generally caused by. I would bring up that I found it odd that I developed this in both arms at the same time with no real cause and my concerns about rheumatoid arthritis since I already had an autoimmune disorder, but the rheumatoid factor was negative! That means I didn't have rheumatoid arthritis!

I tried to be a "good patient" and just listen to the medical professionals and the test results. I did some physical therapy (though I admit I wasn't as consistent with my exercises as I should have been, they also were not helping). I iced my wrists/thumbs. I wore braces. I did nothing outside of what was required of me to keep my job. I couldn't turn a doorknob without severe pain -- and I have high pain tolerance (or, geez, keys were the worst because the combination of pinching and turning was excruciating). I couldn't chop vegetables, which meant I couldn't really cook the way I was used to. Lifting a saddle onto a horse -- something I had done once a week for a couple of years -- was now majorly painful. I spent my off time that summer watching TV and being generally glad that my riding school goes on hiatus for adult riders during the hottest months so I didn't feel like I was missing things, but also wasn't causing myself additional pain.

It took eight months for a doctor to run an anti-CCP antibody test, which is a blood test associated with rheumatoid arthritis. Mine was high, but not as high as it should be for people with full-blown rheumatoid arthritis. He ran the test again. Same results. Abnormal-but-low titers can apparently be associated with early stages of RA, so he decided to try treating me for it. He put me on hydroxychloriquine, a drug that treats a number of things, RA being one of them. I was pain-free within two months and have remained pain-free in the year-and-a-half since.

I could have trusted the PA that first diagnosed me. And I tried; I genuinely did. But when I'm sitting there saying, "This is not normal for me. I did nothing that would have caused this, and I also have a preexisting condition that makes these symptoms very concerning," and also, "I am doing everything you've told me to do and have seen no improvement," and I'm being told the same things over and over again based on blood tests for which a negative result doesn't actually mean you don't have what's being tested for (30%-40% of patients do not test positive for rheumatoid factor in the early stages of the disease), it is hard to give blanket trust to professionals.

I'm struggling with this again because I developed GI issues shortly after my RA diagnosis and the first doctor I saw told me what I was experiencing was normal. It's not. It's not normal for me. I have lived in my body for 36 years and come from a family rife with GI issues, and I seemingly spontaneously developed new and alarming symptoms that, again, might be on some sort of spectrum of "normal" for the entirety of humanity, but they are not normal for me and my body. (That GI doctor also told me she "could tell by looking at you that you aren't malnourished", which is a fascinating superpower to have considering most medical professionals I've met run blood tests for those sorts of things. I'm pretty sure she just meant that she could tell by looking at me that I am overweight -- though I had lost around ten pounds without trying to which seems...strange given the circumstances.)

The second GI specialist I went to I do trust. He was sure I had Crohn's. I have the antibodies for it. I have the existing autoimmune issues. I have the symptoms. But every time I've had a colonoscopy or endoscopy, they find a whole lotta nothing. A pillcam study found signs of erosions associated with Crohn's, but I'm now being told that the dozens and dozens of tiny spots that were circled mean nothing. The antibodies and symptoms and pillcam study don't mean much when compared to the clean biopsies from the colonoscopies and endoscopy.

And they might mean nothing! But also...this sort of thing is almost ubiquitous for Crohn's patients. If I get a Crohn's diagnosis in the next five years, I will be...whatever the opposite of surprised is. I don't want Crohn's. But the fact is, even if I don't have Crohn's, I have a bunch of symptoms that are consistent with it, and being told I don't have it doesn't magically make those go away.

It's possible that there's a totally different thing causing my GI issues. The main reason I am concerned about it being an autoimmune thing is because catching that early can mean mitigating later complications. I don't want to act like I know more than my doctors because I don't...but I also know that it kind of seems like, once tests come back as normal, no one's overly motivated to try to figure out what the hell is wrong with my body that it's behaving in such bizarre ways. And since I have previous experience with this, I do feel like I have to look into things myself, which means, yeah...not fully trusting the specialists I pay to fix me.

Part of the problem is that we aren't experts, so it's difficult to tell when a medical professional is doing something wrong. All we know in these situations is our own body. But if said professional starts acting like our lived experience doesn't matter, and we later find out that, actually, we had symptoms of an underlying chronic illness the whole time and the professional either didn't know what to make of our symptoms or ignored us...well, that sort of experience sticks with you and makes you question freaking everything.

Got reblogged by Seanan McGuire again; can safely assume my notes will be a nightmare of people accusing me of being a lazy, incompetent, distracted, inhumane doctor, assuming they notice I’m a doctor. May take a week off.

People will simultaneously describe all the elements of the current US medical system that lead to burnout in service of making the very few shareholders very rich, and then pretend that doctors aren’t also profoundly negatively affected by it, and then decide the system is also actually our fault.

[dckweed]

well hidey ho, been a minute. I've had a rough few weeks and I'm not 100% sure I'm totally in love with this part for Sugar Sweet but it's okay because i know it's building up to something. How are yall doing? Also, my requests are OPEN for any top gun asks.

warnings: mentions of weight and poor body image, but that's about it. this whole part is literally just Jake and sugar being oddly domestic bc for some reason the thought of Jake being a domestic kinda guy just feels right.

summary: you and jake have breakfast on a rare day off for both of you.

word count: 2,512

SUGAR SWEET, part two.

"GOD DAMMIT, BECKY!"

Irritated as you were by the man showing up at your door, and even more irritated by Pete thinking you could get along, you knew that you didn't have a choice. You couldn't afford not to have a roommate, not with the giant stack of over due bills piling up on the desk in your living room. You trusted Maverick's judgement about his character, he seemed nice enough as annoying as you had a feeling he could be just off your last few interactions with him, he also seemed like a pretty straight shooter and you felt like that would be good company to have around your brother after what your last roommate had been doing behind your back. 

The tour of your home was short, you lived in a small three bedroom cottage, just three houses over from Penny, and there wasn't much of it to see. You had shown him around the kitchen, to the shared bathroom and had let him look around the second biggest bedroom that had once been yours, but would now be his. After running over his shared portion of the bills, and letting him know that you didn't mind cooking for him as long as he chipped in on groceries, you two shook hands and called it a day. 

A couple days has passed since he'd moved in, and honestly, you'd been working so late the past couple of days that you hadn't even noticed him. Your brother said that he liked him well enough, he thought his job was the coolest thing ever (which seemed to boost Jake's ego more than it needed to) and he seemed to enjoy having him around, something you couldn't be mad at. 

You were up early on your fourth day of having Jake as a roommate, early enough that you assumed he was already on base, because he always seemed to leave in the dark, early hours of the morning, and definitely early enough that your brother was still asleep. It was Saturday, he wouldn't be up until well after ten in the morning. It also happened to be one of your rare days off, and you were planning to go use your free membership perk at the gym, but not before making breakfast. 

The kitchen was probably your favorite place in the house, it wasn't the biggest or the nicest by any means, but it had always been somewhere that felt like home to you, especially when it held so many happy memories of your father. Knowing that your brother slept like a boulder, you didn't have any qualms about turning on your bluetooth speakers and letting your favorite playlist play through them, singing along happily to the lyrics as you cracked eggs and drizzled oil on the bottom of your biggest skillet to start some hashbrowns and peppers together. 

The smell of food is what woke him up first, the aroma of the peppers roasting in the pan and some bacon frying hitting his senses like a god send. Jake hadn't had a proper home-cooked breakfast in a while, and just the thought of it drove him to swing his legs over the side of the king size mattress he had bought and shuffle over to his dresser, that had clearly been your own at point. He shoved his legs into a pair of gym shorts, he figured you would find it impolite of him to go wondering about in his underwear in your own and he was all about being a gentleman. 

As he made his way down the hallway, the music is what perked his ears up. He grunted a little, running a hand through his surely messy hair as he made his way into the living room, he was too tall to look through the breakfast bar slot without needing to crouch so he rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks as his eyes found you. He had to admit, you were quite the sight dancing in an extremely oversized t-shirt with what looked like nothing but panties on underneath, your thighs on full display. He had to tear his eyes away for a moment, afraid he was going to pop a boner as he watched you bend over to grab something from one of the lower cabinets, singing along perfectly to whichever song was coming through the speakers. You looked relaxed, he dared to say that you even looked happy, like you thoroughly belonged right there in that moment and something about that was insanely breathtakingly beautiful to him. 

He could have watched you like that for hours, but he knew that would be creepy and that you would probably catch him at any second. Jake clears his throat, leaning against the door way on his shoulder. "So, Sugar, do you do this often?" He asks, hiding a chuckle as you jump and turn, your eyes narrowed. 

Jake had scared the absolute shit out of you, but you weren't about to show him that. "Make breakfast? Yeah, every morning." You say, rolling your eyes. "Do you always walk around without a shirt on?" You turned your head back to the stove, hoping he wouldn't notice the blush creeping along your cheeks. He looked good standing there like that, his entire toned stomach on full display, biceps too as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was a beautiful kind of man, and you could stare at him for hours. 

"Do you always walk round with just your panties on?" He asks with a scoff, pushing off of the door frame to pour himself a cup of coffee as his eyes locked onto the pot that smelled like it was freshly brewed. You make a squeak of a noise and furiously make sure your shirt is covering your bottom. "How do you take your coffee, sugar?" 

You glance over at him, watching him grab two mugs from the cabinet right above the coffee maker. You wondered how he knew the color changing star wars one was your favorite. "Black." You say, giving the potatoes and peppers one last stir before putting them onto a serving platter next to the eggs and bacon you had made. "And my name isn't Sugar." 

"Woman after my own heart." Jake says, ignoring your annoyance to his pet name andbpouring himself a cup of coffee the same way before taking them both over to the kitchen table. "Also…star wars?" He opened up the curtains next to the table, he had a feeling that you liked the morning sunshine. 

"Are you really about to bash me for star wars right now, hangman?" You ask, humming appreciatively as you set down the large serving platter before going to grab plates. You had made more than enough for the both of you. "Don't you usually go to work before the sun comes up?" 

Jake makes a noise as he sips at his coffee. "Damn girl you make it strong.." He says, sitting down at the round table to your left 7side after subconsciously pulling out your chair for you before you came back with the plates. "I'm on standby most weekends, much to my annoyance. I'd rather spend my time on base or in my plane..but, i use the weekends for heavy work at the gym..don't you usually work every day?" 

You set a plate in front of him with some silverware on top before sitting down in the seat he had pulled out for you. "I have a rare day off..but I'm working the Hard Deck tonight.." You say, scooping food onto your plate before sprinkling some hot sauce over your eggs. "So you're going to the gym today then?" You ask, rethinking your plans to go. 

He nods, grabbing the bottle of hot sauce after you set it down to pour over his own plate, completely covering everything on it. You cringe at the sight. "That must be a guy thing." You mutter, shaking your head at the man. Jake only hums as he scoops up a fork full of egg and potato and shovels it in. You watch as you eat your own food, him already halfway through his plate in a matter of minutes. You take note of the way his forehead shines with sweat and his cheeks and nose tinge red. You want to laugh but it reminds you so much of your father and brother. "Spicy?"

Jake shakes his head. "Not spicy enough." You drop your jaw. With sweat dripping down his face and his skin red, how was it not spicy enough? He reaches an arm across the table and grabs the hot sauce bottle again, it was one you had made yourself, a recipe you had thought interesting. "This is good, did you get it at a farmers market? It's really fresh." He says, coating what's left of his eggs once more. 

You can't help but to wonder if all that time spent in the thinner oxygen so far up in the atmosphere has somehow altered his brain. "I made it." You say simply, picking up your half eaten plate of food and heading towards the sink. You dump it down the garbage disposal and start gathering the rest of the dirtied breakfast dishes, washing your skillets by hand. Just as you're about to start loading the dishwasher you feel Jake next to you, setting his plate down on the counter for you to clear. 

"You really made this?" He asks, clearing all the condiments and things off of the table. You felt awkward, not used to anyone helping you clean the kitchen, that had always been left up to you. 

"Yeah, saw a recipe on pinterest and thought I'd try it out..Kai loves hot sauce, always complains the store stuff sucks." You didn't mention that your father had always made his own as well, which is why your brother complained about the store bought crap you had been recently putting in the fridge. 

Jake hums while you finish washing up the mess you'd made, you don't say anything moreand neither does he until he thanks you for the food and leaves the room, you hear his feet travel down the hallway and the click of his bedroom door. You breathe out a sigh, wondering why you felt so tense and awkward around him. 

You don't dwell on it though, and head to your room to get ready for your day. You figure you shouldn't avoid going to the gym just because he was going to be there, you missed working out and it's not like you didn't need it either. You're quick to change into a pair of spandex shorts and one of your fathers baggy old t-shirts, throwing your hair up into a claw clip before before heading towards the living room. 

You're putting on your sneakers when you catch a peek9f of Jake through the breakfast nook window, he's got a giant tumbler bottle next to him, and a good five or so small tubs of something. He's humming to himself all as he mixes a bunch of it into the tumbler bottle. "Watermelon or Fruit Punch?" He questions to himself and you can't help but to giggle a little when he glances down at his white athletic shirt that clung to his upper body tightly. "Watermelon doesn't stain as bad as fruit punch." 

"Do you always talk to yourself when you're alone?" You ask, catching him jump in fright as you round the corner into the kitchen. You couldn't help but to think it was your own form of payback for earlier. 

"Sugar, I am my own best friend, no one gives me better advice than myself." You felt like you lost braincells when he turned and winked at you. "Want a pre-workout shake? I have Blue Raspberry, orange, Watermelon.."

You cock your head at him. "Pre-workout?" You hated to sound dumb, especially because you worked in a gym, but you really had no clue what he was offering you.

"It gives you the extra boost to get through your workout, helps with recovery while you're working out..good for the muscles too if you buy the right ones, like me.." He said it so matter of fact that you didn't think he was punking you. "Caffeine, basically."

"...then why don't you just drink coffee?" You ask and it must have been a dumb question because he looks so bewildered. He slaps his hand down on the counter top and shakes his head, mouth open. 

"Sugar, coffee and pre-workout are not the same thing." He says, almost offended by your question. "Has your brother taught you nothing?" 

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "Okay, well, I'm headed out. I have to go to the grocery store after I'm done at the gym, text me if you want something specific..have fun with your Caffeine on steroids." You grab your purse and keys and head to your car. 

It's already god awfully hot and you damn near cry when you remember the air conditioning in your car is broken as you slide into the already boiling interior. You toss your bag into the passenger seat and put the key in the ignition, turning it. It makes a choking sound. Confused, you turn it again and it makes a wet cough type of sound. Hoping that maybe it's just because it's old and needs a few minuets sometimes, you turn the key for a third time and this time, there's not a single noise or sign of life. 

"God dammit Becky you piece of crap!" You holler slamming the driver side door closed. You so could not afford this right now. You hoped it was easily fixable and were just on your way back inside to see if you could call Maverick to come help you out, or even wake up your brother and see if he could check it out, when Jake came walking down the driveway towards his truck parked on the curb. 

"Who's becky?" He asks, glancing down at the car and then back to you before making the assumption. "..need a ride?" He unlocks his beefy GMC pick up and tosses his bag into the back seat. You're about to protest, not wanting to drag him off to the grocery store on his day off from work but he beats you to it. "Come on, it's not like i have anything better to do all day, I'll even look at your car when we're done at the grocery store.." 

Honestly, you should have said no and turned right around and gone back inside, because this? This day was the start of your downfall, the beginning of your heart somehow totally belonging to Jake fucking Seresin without even so much as a warning and even more honestly? You would so do it all again if it meant you'd got to relive every moment of this day knowing full well what it was going to lead to. 

@novagreen04 @t4medicroe @dempy @djs8891 @potato-girl99981

[dragneelshmagneel]

Can I please get protective Laxus with reader? maybe she gets hurt and he panics or she has to go on a mission and he argues with her to stay?

i’m a sucker for protection tropes, especially with Laxus cuz I feel like he’s the type to not let anyone know his feelings. So ta daaaa enjoy the lil fic!

Ship: Laxus x fem!reader

Warning: some swearing, mentions of injuries and blood, fluffy

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One Shot - Why didn’t you listen?

(Not my gif)

The guild hall was busy, as per usual for FairyTail. Everyone was either drinking or trying to bite each other’s heads off. But today, today was different because you had accepted a job that had everyone questioning your sanity.

“Are you insane?!”

Laxus’s voice boomed over the guild hall causing heads to turn in your direction. It wasn’t the first time Laxus had apposed to you going on a dangerous job, but this time he seemed adamant on you staying. 

“What’s the big deal, Y/n’s a dragon slayer like us she’ll be fine,” Natsu voiced, offering you a cheeky grin. But Laxus only stared him down before saying, 

“No one asked you fire head, now get lost. This discussion has nothing to do with you.” 

“And it has nothing to do with you either, Laxus.” 

You finally spoke, irritated that everyone suddenly had an opinion on what jobs you could take. Even Cana was a bit unsure on whether you should take it, but a quick look at her cards kept her quiet. For now. Natsu laughed, his head shaking as he took a few steps back and headed back down towards the ground floor of the guild hall. Leaving you and Laxus a moment to talk. You could already tell where this was going, Laxus would talk about how you wouldn’t know what you were up against until it was too late or that there are much stronger people out there. Though he never called you weak, the words he used always left you assuming that's how he viewed you.

Both of you stayed quiet, letting the air between you grow thick. You wanted to ask him why he cared, why he bothered to argue against you all the time and why it bothered him so much but every time the question came to your lips, you brushed it away. Laxus clenched his jaw before breaking his silence.

"Did you lose a bet or something? is that the reason why you're taking the job?"

"No I didn't lose a bet," you spat back, annoyed that he would even suggest something so childish.

"Then why are you taking it? it's probably the closest thing to an S-Class quest on the board how did the old man even approve of this."

You could feel it, the surge of power in your body as you fisted your hands. Every time, Laxus was like this every time and it started to get on your nerves. Just let me do what I need to you wanted to tell him. But Laxus wouldn't understand, he was an S-Class Wizard already, considered one of the strongest of Fairytail. You were just the weird shadow dragon slayer who felt like she had to constantly prove herself.

"I don't get why you're getting yourself worked up over this, it was an available job and I took it. Master Makarov approved it this morning with no hesitation.”

“That old man has no sense.”

“He—you know what,” you huffed, annoyed that you felt like you had to explain yourself to him. Time and time again, it was like you had to prove your worth but not this time. This time you were going into that job with a clear head. You didn’t have time to waste.

“Forget it Laxus, I don’t have the energy for this.”

You turned your back to him, your hair swishing with the action but before you could take your first step towards the stairs, a light touch gripped your wrist and stopped you from walking away. You half turned, looking at the hand that felt so warm on your skin, then up to the man who held you in place.

"Don't go," Laxus said softly, his green eyes meeting yours. All you could do was hold you breath, not sure on what to say. You couldn't stay, not when you already accepted the job but most importantly, there was no reason to not go. You pulled your arm back and to your surprise, Laxus let go.

"I leave in an hour."

That was all you said before you made your way downstairs, this time Laxus didn't stop you. As you left him behind, you swore you felt electricity in the air. I could do this job you kept telling yourself, but you couldn't lie. You were nervous, because what if this went wrong? what if you failed and proved Laxus right? Would he hold this over you?

****

After you left, Laxus sat by the bar drinking away by himself. He didn't speak a word to anyone, only to Mira who he ordered from. Not even Natsu's provoking could get him to turn around.

"I don't get it, don't you believe y/n's strong enough to handle it?"

Natsu wasn't giving up so easily. He knew your strength, had fought along side you plenty of times he had seen what you were capable of. Even Laxus had, though you didn't know it. Laxus had always been aware of the power that you had, he just never had to guts to say anything to you. Laxus sipped at his drink, the frothy ale tickling his lips as tried to ignore the horrible images of you getting hurt that his mind kept imagining for him.

"Well, whatever your deal is, she's gunna prove just how powerful she is you just watch. She'll come back in a few days with her reward, a few scraps and bruises sure but she'll be back."

I should've gone with her Laxus thought to himself. Why didn't I go with her?

The first day went by, then the second then the third. With each day that passed Laxus grew more irritable, more so than his usual self. And he seemed to blame one person for his anger.

"This is all your fault old man."

Makarov stirred the spoon in his cup of tea, choosing not to reply at Laxus's outburst. He couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong, it had been five days you should've been back by now.

"How could you let her take the job?"

"Y/n is more than capable of handling it. I have no doubt she's succeed in her mission and is returning already."

As if by some sick coincidence, Erza came bursting through the doors of the guild hall, Gray and Natsu just behind her. What the? any curiosity Laxus had turned to panic when he saw who Natsu and Gray were carrying.

"Wendy! where's Wendy?" Erza called out, everyone from the guild seemed to freeze but Laxus... Laxus rushed past the crowd, pushing away Freed, Elfman and even Gray and Natsu.

"Y/n..." he breathed out your name, taking you into his arms. You made no sound, and you breaths were raged. Bruises and cuts covered your body. No. No. No.

"What happened?" He barked at the fellow dragon slayer.

"I have no idea, she was down when we found her. Look like whatever she had to fight really took it out of her, I barely sensed any magical energy from her."

Stay with me. Please y/n, stay with me. That was all Laxus could think of as he held you close, carrying you all the way to the infirmary. he looked down at you, how you appeared to be so fragile and small.

"Why didn't you listen," he said under his breath, wishing he could go back in time to stop whatever it was you were up against.

****

Laxus stayed by your side for two days, and it took a lot of Wendy's healing magic to get you breathing properly again. The job was a suicide mission, but you gave it your all. Even if it almost cost you your life. With struggle, you turned your head and ever so slowly opened your eyes. Immediately you saw the head of blonde hair across from you, noted the closed eyes and the soft snores that came from his lips.

"Laxus," you croaked, your voice raw from screaming. His eyes fluttered open, confused by the voice he had heard until he saw you. A weak smile on your face, head bandaged. Laxus shot up from his seat, almost falling to the floor to get to your bedside.

"You're awake."

He seemed dumbfounded, and just when you wanted to reply Laxus did something you never thought he'd ever do. He dropped to his knee's, took hold of one of your hands and placed it to his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're awake."

There was a strange swell in your heart, one you never thought would be created by Laxus of all people. You continued to smile softly, letting your fingers stroke his cheek.

"I'm sorry I—I'm sorry I failed."

You could barely get the words out from your mouth before humiliation filled your chest. You had fought so hard, but in the end you came away with nothing. You were sent to deal with a dark guild after all, alone. And you had failed.

"What?"

Laxus couldn't believe what you had said to him, and as his green eyes took you in he felt ashamed that he might have caused that doubt in you.

"Y/n, you haven't failed. You're alive—"

"You were right, I couldn't handle it. I should've—I should've listened to you"

Laxus laughed to himself. No matter how badly he'd wanted to hear you say it, it felt wrong. He sighed, placing a kiss on top your hand that send a wave of butterflies into your stomach.

"No y/n, you shouldn't listen to me. I was wrong, I've always been wrong to think you'd be anything but capable of handling things on your own. I just wish I could've been there to protect you."