#o have zero insecurities i

[one-winged-dirty-dreams]

Im high as fucking shit HAPPY ME GONGAGA MONDAY TO ME, IM ADMITTING I WANT TO FUCK MY BEST FRIEND BUT IN LIKE A SUPER PLATONIC WAY, JUST BUDDIES WHO FUCK SOMETIMES and have rare heated makeout sessions

Seriously I don't have a shred of romantic attraction to Zack in the slightest, I just do friend things that include sleeping and cuddling in the same bed and like

Fucking

I knew this was a platonic lifestyle people live but I'm feeling it now Mr krabs

I would absolutely fuck my best friend Zack Fair

Fuck you future Adri, this is from the heart

FUCK YOUR BEST FRIEND

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS BI HAN | SUB ZERO MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: I'm going to write headcanons about all the men in MK, I'm going to write one shots, fanfic, I'm going crazy and more horny for each one of them... I'm gay as f*ck. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.

TW: sfw, headcanons in general, afab reader, smut.

He is an aggressive lover. I mean, he's not going to hit you or anything, but he's extremely cold (I laughed after remembering that he's fucking sub zero lol), he's the type to talk the basics, even to you, so don't do it "silly" questions for him, if he's okay or if he ate, he'll answer: "-I'm here in front of you so obviously I'm fine." "-Don't worry, I know how to take care of myself, I'm not a child."

He likes to show his love for you through actions, like buying you something you've been wanting for a while, like giving you a bouquet of flowers, small but meaningful, Bi-Han doesn't know how to express love for anyone, I'm sorry, But it's the truth, but he tries for you, even if it's not the best.

Bi-Han cares about you even if he doesn't express it, he knows that he is a frustrated and wrong man in several actions, even if he wants to lie to himself that he doesn't, you both know that, but if you haven't given up on him, and You're still on his side, it means you love him, and he values that.

Bi Han won't let you work outside of his sight, that is, he will want you at home, you can beg or try to argue, he will say: "-Your job is to be my husband/wife, take care of our house, me and yourself, I can't allow you to go around." -He spoke calmly, but seriously, and that was really his thought, he just wants you to be close to him, he is afraid, terrified, of losing you one day. -

Bi Han is insecure, even if he never admits it, he gets jealous very quickly, he knows that you are a beautiful person, so he knows that many ninjas lust after you, even though you are married to him, so please don't flirt with other men or women, this man is capable of crazy things and the silent treatment he will give you after that will be for an indefinite period of time.

You are always on his mind in every mission, Kuai Liang and Tomas sometimes notice their grandmaster looking into space and perhaps, a transparent smile appears quickly, while Bi-Han looks at the landscape on the horizon, thinking about you. "-I hope (Y/N) is okay" -He said to himself, shaking his head soon after and returning to the mission.

When he notices that you are sad he becomes worried, but he just crosses his arms under his chest, and looks at you waiting for an explanation for such behavior, if you are upset about something that someone from the Lin Kuei clan did to you, consider that person dead, your grand master husband will immediately leave the house forming a deadly ice dagger in his hand, returning some time later, with a determined and blood-stained look. "-Okay, wipe your tears, the problem has already been solved, let's have dinner." -He spoke seriously and calmly, as he wiped the blood from his hands on a cloth, heading to the kitchen with heavy steps and giving you a look, so you could follow him.

Bi-Han lies down on the bed next to you, but he can't sleep for several nights, he finds himself watching you, your face so peaceful next to him, the ninja monster of the lin kuei, you look so good and comfortable next to him, he really wonders why you married him, you deserve someone better.

He covers you more with the sheet, caressing your cheek lightly with his thumb, while whispering on rare occasions, that he loved you.

"-I really love you, you know that? I'm sorry I'm not the best man for you (Y/N), I really want you forever by my side, and I'll protect you from this world, whatever the cost, what do I do and for me and for you." -Bi Han told you while you slept, he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, while looking at the moon soon after, it would be another night that he would be haunted by his own demons.

Bi-Han's favorite couple's activity with you is strolling to a lake on the Lin Kuei clan's estate, sitting with you on the cool grass as the two of you watch nature, the swans on the lake, the cloudy sky announcing an upcoming rain. would soon come, the trees swaying to the rhythm of the wind, as Bi Han talked about his mother, he really loved her, and he is happy to see that you were really interested in listening, as he talked about childhood memories, making little sculptures of ice with his fingertips to represent the story he told, it's these moments with you that make everything he did, even the cruelest things, worth it.

He may not be loyal to the clan, but he is to you. He's the type that if someone comes at him, he has to be held back so he doesn't punch them for such audacity. Ex:

"-Bi Han, are you going to come with us-"

"-I'm a married man"

"-Bi Han, we just asked-"

"-I'm a married man, I told you." -He says pointing to the wedding ring and leaving. They were just going to ask him to drink a little, but as Bi Han said, he is a married man to you.

He doesn't like nicknames, only during sex, other than that he will call you by your name, or "my husband/my wife", he likes the idea of being called "husband" by you too, so if you If you refer to him like that, in public, he will melt inside, and smile slightly sideways behind the mask.

He is a wild man in bed, taking out his frustrations and anger on your beautiful pussy, mouth and body in general.

Bi Han loves blowjobs, if he could, you would be kneeling between his legs 24 hours a day, with your pretty face taking his entire cock in your mouth - I feel sorry for you dear, this man's cock is big and thick, he's literally going to hit it down your throat easily, leaving you breathless while your husband enjoys watching you choke on his dick like that -

He likes to degrade you in sex, it's a way for him to mark you as his and release his frustrations too, he will fuck you roughly, especially fucking you with his dick stuck in your pussy, with him lifting you easily while his hips they aggressively pound against your tight hole.

"-You're a great slut, you know? Taking my cock like a desperate bitch."

"-Oh fuck, you feel so good, don't you? Your pussy was made for me, the grand master lin kuei, and only mine, only I deserve you, do you hear? I'm just going to fuck that beautiful pussy until you can only think about how You want my dick inside you."

"-Do I really have a little whore as my husband/wife? How lucky for me then."

"-I'm going to fill you up... I'm going to fill that tight pussy of yours, and you want that, don't you? You want every drop of my cum, you're a hungry slut."

He loves to call you: "slut", "dirty bitch", "private whore", "nymph", "good boy/girl with a tight pussy". Most of the sex sessions you have with Bi Han end with him cumming on your face, pussy or belly, painting everything with his cum and leaving you panting with your legs shaking - for him, sex really is only good when you are weak from cumming on his dick, and overstimulated, with a swollen clitoris - He loves many sexual positions, but he prefers:

Cowgirl’s Helper: He likes to see you on top of him, your hands on his chest, while one of his hands squeezes your ass, and the other is behind his head. Bi Han watches you get impaled on his dick, stretching your pussy slowly, as your pussy drools on his pulsing dick, he looks at you, smiling smugly when he sees the rise of his dick in your womb. He would just groan in response to your desperate moans, watching your body move as you whimpered to cum - he wasn't going to let you cum yet, and if you did, he was going to punish the hell out of you, giving you at least five painful orgasms and pleasant that night -

Stand and Deliver: He loves seeing you bent over, your waist is sore from being bent over for him, but he loves seeing your ass and waist on top, thrusting into your pussy while pulling your hands behind your back, he would go so hard on your hole that your feet would leave the ground, you could feel the burn of the speed of Bi Han's dick in your pussy, but he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't stop until he left you a trembling mess full of cum - while calling you a desperate slut his cock -

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[ronearoundblindly]

Some Steve for you to enjoy 🥰🫶🏻

Gurl, this f***ed me up! I wanted to try to make it a snippet of Item 107 or The Cinder King, but the muses were just like "you know what you need? emotional damage." So now here we have my first semi-legit period piece (which has zero useful era detail eh) and truly is just the carrier for skinny!Steve love. Hint: It's thirsty, smutty love with hardly any plot ANGST.

Hello and welcome to Lexi's most self-indulgent fic ever. It's got everything: crippling insecurities about my real-life stuff, horniness unmatched even if there were sex pollen shot directly into their faces, and everyone is touch-starved. \o/ Enjoy! WC probably close to 3k but idk because I'm too afraid to look back at it. *slams post button*

Turned away again, Steve "4F" Rogers steps out of the recruitment center to see you standing there, staring up at the posters promising glory.

People hustle around you, several even knocking into you, but you remain transfixed, invisible. You're clutching your purse like a lifeline.

Down one step, worn-through shoes barely hiding every seam in the cobblestone, Steve has to get closer because that's the direction of home and a lonely, empty apartment he can hardly afford. He has to pass by. He has to, but then he sees the amber light reflect on trails of tears down your cheeks.

He has to stop.

"Miss?" Steve clears his throat, his own arm smacked by a rowdy man who then swats at your ass just as Steve tries to get your attention again.

You jolt and turn to him in surprise, hand flying up to cover a sob, sweeping to wipe the evidence of emotion from your face.

Fast--faster than Steve really processes--he's shouting for the guy to apologize before the guy makes to advance, Steve presses himself between you and the asshole still laughing at disrespecting you, and then he--Steve--is getting shoved into the alley with you still at his back.

It's dusk. The alley is nearly black. Steve can hear you crying but he's slipped on the stones wet from an afternoon rain. He scrambles to right himself.

Amidst the cries, he hears grunts of anger and resistance, terror creeping into his chest as Steve thinks you're being assaulted.

"Piece of shit," you bite out. The silhouette of you hurling your bag at the man's face repeatedly is clear from where Steve crouches, backlit as you are by the movie theater marquee.

Then the guy is down on the ground, too, being stomped on by your two-inch heel. "Piece of fucking shit."

"Woah," Steve jumps forward to hold you back. "Woah, language, ma'am. Let's go. Just leave him."

He has a weak arm around your waist, but you kick at the man one more time for good measure, hissing "liar" before turning to follow.

Your hand in his, Steve hurries through the streets, picking the ones he knows are busier but maneuverable to make sure you're not being pursued. Each time he looks back, he sees your sinking face, more tears, more exhaustion, and he makes a flash decision.

He doesn't stop until he locks the door of his apartment behind you both, and you break down on the bare wood floor.

"You hurt? Did he hurt you?" Steve's boney knees land a few inches from yours and he leans over, his long fingers brushing over your pinned hair and stiff curls that dislodged in the commotion. "You're alright. You're safe here."

Where your legs crumple underneath you, your slip lays over your thigh, uncovered by the skirt pooling on the other side of your hip. He can see the outline of a garter strap and the top of your stocking beneath the silky material. Steve's always loved pretty, delicate things. He also loves the faint bulge of flesh around the restraints.

There's meat on your bones, something to hold onto, and he shakes his head, chastising himself for noticing all the wrong things about the crying woman in his home. His lonely, empty home.

Steve attempts to think of anything other than your body.

"Do you know him? What'd you call him a liar for?"

You sigh in defeat, hands flopping into your lap, and confess that it wasn't about him so much as a man not here anymore. Gone. To war. You tell Steve a rambling tale of excuses and snide comments, of a parting that left you wondering why that man--any man--bothered to be with you in the first place, of a surety that you weren't ever wanted.

"I thought he loved me but he lied."

Steve sits cross-legged in front of you now, enthralled and utterly confused. Why would anyone...?

"That's the worst part," you exclaim, voice cracking. "I don't know. I'll never know." Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "I heard today that he died. Don't know where. Don't know when. And I hate that I still care."

"But he wasn't good to you," Steve soothes and wraps his hand around yours, "and he wasn't good for you."

All you do is shrug and hide your face. Tears falls to the fabric below your eyes and seep through in dark patches.

He scoots forward and lifts your chin with a gentle nudge. When your puffy red eyes meet his, he's struck by how lucky he feels to see you like this. It's odd to think someone who knew you more and for so much longer couldn't feel infinitely more attached and protective. You're so vulnerable, so open, so...

"You're beautiful." Steve's tongue swipes over his dry lips. "You're so beautiful."

The words are loaded heavier than tanks and pack the punch of a bomb. He can tell you don't truly hear him by the way you shrink and shake your head out of his hold.

"Don't do that," he pleads. "Please don't hide from me."

"You don't know me."

"No, but I--"

"You don't even know my name!"

He sits back and offers his hand.

"Hi, I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you, and I think you're beautiful."

"That's stupid," you lash out, bitterly spitting the half-hearted, heart-breaking words. "You must be an idiot, Steve."

It's not the first time he's heard it, but it is the first time he's not mad at hearing it. He believed those things, too, long ago, before his mom convinced him to see the possibilities in one's struggles. If you perceive it as an obstacle, it is an obstacle. Perceive it as an opportunity instead and use it. Those aren't her exact words, but Sarah Rogers has so many different ways of teaching the same fundamental lessons that Steve can't remember the phrases anymore.

He can remember the feeling. He remembers seeing both obstacles and opportunities.

"Is it stupid to want to touch you?" he whispers. "Because I would love to touch you."

The question is purposefully leading since he knows from your story that's exactly what you long for. It'll be more impactful if he shows you he longs for that too.

Slowly--so slowly--his hand comes up to your cheek again, his fingers tucking behind your neck.

"I don't want your pity." There's still bitterness but no power behind it. You gently shift closer and meet him halfway.

He's kissed girls before, he's fooled around, and he has, in fact, slept with one girl. They went all the way--twice--which means Steve knows what it is to be pitied intimately. He knows what it's like to want something so badly you don't care what the motivation is.

You deserve to know his motives.

"I don't pity you." His focus falls to your quivering lip. "I want to make you happy." He's close. He's so close his breath rolls warm over your face. "I want to make you smile."

A soft whimper leaves you just as his mouth arrives.

"I want you," he says into the kiss.

Instead of fighting, you grab at his jacket, pulling him until you're both falling into the stand lamp. You taste of salt and something sweet he can't put his finger on. Steve resolves to put that on the list of things to find out about you.

He keeps kissing you as you both fall, the lamp now wedged at an angle by the side table. Despite the tangle of tongues, Steve keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't quite have enough answers.

"What do you want, beautiful?"

Hesitant as he pulls away, gripping worn leather like your purse in the street, your eyes dart between his. You're a dream beneath him, but that sounds too selfish to voice.

"May I..." Steve is already panting "...get you off the floor? More comfortable?"

Maybe you haven't been able to say the words, but Steve doesn't need more convincing to know you want him.

He could tell from the way you pawed at him. He could tell from the multiple times you crashed him into the walls along the hall to makeout more. He could tell from the way you melted like hot butter at his every returned touch, but finally, you two made it to his bed.

He'd be embarrassed by the lumpy old thing if there weren't a curvy, luscious dame standing with wide legs at the foot of it, letting his tie slip through your hands as he sits stunned.

Steve swallows thickly.

"Let me see you." It comes out as more of an order than the hopeful question he intended, but when he sees the command shiver through you, he feels six-foot-six and powerful as all hell.

You two share the burden of unbuttoning all of your layers, spinning you a few times to release front and back and side to side. His hands spread and roam to relish each garment, each moment, until you're top half is naked.

He stares, fierce blue irises muted by the dim light on his bedside table, 'beautiful' on his lips every second you spend with your finger yanking the knot of his tie and sliding off the bond. When you lean to pop his shirt buttons, your breasts hang in his face.

Steve stops you by your wrists, peaking up at you through his long lashes as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He keeps thinking it--beautiful--while his tongue sweeps flat across pebbling flesh. Each subsequent swirl has you melting again, pressing more of you to his face, dragging nails up his chest, sighing long and deep. When he switches to the other side, your fingers bury in his hair. He takes his time to worship you, tracing his own fingertips around the hem of your slip and garters.

He doesn't get impatient, if anything Steve feels greedy for wanting more, for praying this lasts forever, for needing all you're willing to give.

His teeth graze your skin in wanton lust, and you flinch in surprise, knocking you off-balance.

You fall to your knees on the mattress, straddling Steve's slender body beneath your hot core.

"Sorry," you mutter, wriggling to stand, forcing Steve to wrap his arms around you and halt your retreat. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"You can sit on me morning, noon, and night," he rasps. "I won't complain. I'll thank you, beautiful."

He groans pathetically when you relax, the grind of your ass making his slacks pinch tighter and tighter. Steve lets his head fall back on the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. The army might not want him, the world outside may forget he ever existed, but you see. He could get addicted to this feeling. He might get lonely without it.

Steve isn't strong enough to keep hold of you, but your weight never leaves, his erection still slotted between your cheeks. His mouth drops wide when your hips roll. Steve whines when you rise up enough to resume unbuttoning him. His lungs and heart go into overdrive, but even so, Steve doesn't want you doing all the work.

He flips you--using the sum total of his strength--and shuffles backward to stand, ripping the tails of his shirt from beneath his belt and shucking off his trousers. That part he could have been more patient for, but Steve smirks and brushes away the hair falling in his eyes, chest heaving from exertion.

He's pleased to see you watching him, ogling his body without judgment. You look like you want to eat him alive, and he is perfectly fine with that.

His palm lands on your knee to sneak higher beneath your slip, nimble fingers popping the clasps along your stockings and hooking through the band of your underwear. You lifting for him is all the permission he needs. Steve leaves your slip, garter belt, and stockings in place, and in a cheeky twist, he lets your underwear hang off one of your ankles, kissing your inner thigh, pushing your knees wider for him to fit.

He throbs in his boxers at the sight of your sex.

Nerves roil in his belly at the idea he is solely responsible for your pleasure. As he glances up to you, propped up on your elbows with a fearful and expectant gaze, he sees a poster promising honor and glory, a service to be proud of, and for the first time, he has doubts.

You see it in his eyes.

"Steve?"

He wants to participate and show that he's worthy of you.

This isn't about him though, and Steve Rogers is nothing if not dedicated anyone other than himself.

"Right here." He snaps back to reality, laying his hand to your thatch of hair and gently teasing his thumb along your folds. "I'm right here, beautiful."

It's an honor to touch you. He's proud of the moan elicited because he strokes over your clit rhythmically. The glory of watching you writhe is all his.

Steve's breath stays rapid as yours picks up. You're fisting the sheets, slick pooling beneath the pad of his thumb, helping him pick up speed. He dips into you, tests the breach while pushing his boxers down, and crawls over the edge of the bed. Like magnets, you guide each other higher till the pillows cradle you.

You're a broken record, repeating a desperate loop.

"Steve," you whimper.

"Won't ever lie to you." He captures your lips again. "Want you so badly. I'll want you all the time."

Steve doesn't understand why you won't talk to him, so he slows, eyes questioning and brow furrowed. You have to see. The light is right there.

Bottom lip trapped, you still say nothing, but your arms raise to his smooth face and plead in the silence.

He wants the same thing. He wants to feel. Not just the sting of rejection. Not just the slippery, rough stones through his shoes. Not just the empty ache inside. He wants to feel like someone cares whether he lives or dies.

You care even when you don't want to, but Steve can earn you, your care, your smile and your tears. He'll get up and come home to you every time. He needs you to come home to.

Otherwise, this is a lonely, empty apartment. Otherwise, he is a lonely, empty man.

Your hands bring him close, lips pausing just before contact while Steve sinks two fingers into you.

You gasp. His fingers curl. His thumb goes back to work. You kiss him with what little breath you can hold between muted cries until Steve notices your roving hands tug at his waist.

He wants the same thing.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve drapes your thighs over his, his slick fingers spreading you. He's mesmerized watching his cock disappear inch by inch, and the caress of your walls shuts down all other brain function. All he can do is slide against you, bent into your soft body, your breasts padding his jerky thrusts, the base of him perfectly laving the hood of your clit in the growing mess.

You're wet, and he's driven wild by the need to make you come. He tries to sit up again, to play with you properly, but he's stopped by the weight of your legs crossed behind his ass, the strength of your thighs anchoring him in place.

Steve takes huge, deep breaths through his nose because he won't last concentrating on how your body bounces and ripples, plush beneath his boney form.

You get wetter, looser in a welcoming way that spurs him to drive himself home faster. He sucks in air, though it's futile once his heavy balls start to seize.

Suddenly, you shout, stretching to push yourself completely flush with his pelvis, and he has to pull out, keeping aligned with the cut of you as aftershocks make you mindlessly hump him. Steve's cum shoots all over his belly and your chest, some drops dampening what clothes he didn't discard, stains of joy replacing stains of sadness.

His chest might explode. He's gasping, taxed beyond his naughtiest dreams, head lolling toward the ceiling with his throat high.

He feels your legs fall away, and Steve hopes for an instant that you embrace him even though he might suffocate in the process.

The envelopment never comes. The world is fuzzy and too warm beyond him.

He hears the sink in his bathroom turn on just as he lands palms-down on sweaty sheets. He tries every trick he knows to calm down. The water still runs after all the time it takes for him to recover and stand. The closer he gets to the doorway, the clearer the sound really is.

Sobbing.

"Beautiful? What's wrong? Did I--"

The faucet squeaks off, and you barrel out, nearly running him over, your arms covering your chest and your disheveled hair hiding your face.

"What are you doing? Are you cold?" Steve tries.

"I'm disgusting," you hiss in a mad dash for the pile of clothes on the floor.

He trips over his feet to stop you, corralling you as best he can, but you're quick. You certainly have fight in you. Steve only want to show you you do not have to fight him.

"Come back to bed," he commands hopefully, grabbing your wrist as you scoop up your wrinkled dress. "I should clean up, but please, please, come back to bed."

There is something broken and fearful in the way you finally meet his eye. He's torn apart, shredded down to nothing in a single look. That's not how a feral animal sees the world; that's how an animal, abused and betrayed, locks the world out.

Your protection is what you really took off for him. Your thick armor is what Steve got past.

"I didn't lie." He lets go of you and steps back as calm as his rasping breaths can manage. "I want you. I want you to stay." He wonders whether he ought to cover himself, too, because perhaps total vulnerability makes you more nervous.

So he presents himself as an opportunity, not an obstacle.

Steve finds his boxers a foot away and says one more time, "I hope you stay."

Unmoving, your eyes follow his walk to the bathroom, and in the split second he's looking down to turn the tap, you're gone.

Disappointment floods his system, but like all the other stamped failures in his record, Steve goes through the motions of caring for a body that thwarts his desire to live at every turn. In fact, it tries to die so often, he's always surprised to find himself here, staring at this mirror again, wondering why he gets back up.

He's also surprised to find you here, in the bed with the sheet pulled up to your chin, nodding to the side table where you've placed a cup of water.

The tiniest of genuine smiles curves your lips.

Steve's home is neither lonely nor empty anymore. He could cry.

A/N: this got so incredibly out of hand... I'm so sorry. But also, thank you for reading!

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 

Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳

‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧

↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader

feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),

Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.

Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.

Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 

Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.

If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 

Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 

However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 

You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.

Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.

Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 

If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 

Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 

Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 

He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation

Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.

Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 

Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 

He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 

A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.

He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 

Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 

Really, how could he resist you? 

Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.

Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.

Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”

He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.

Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.

This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 

Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.

Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Maybe Ghost Konig and any other cod characters you write for with an s/o who’s very insecure about their stretch marks? Thank you very much

MW2 w/ an S/O who is Insecure about their Stretch Marks

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, No Pronouns used for Reader except for 'You', Implications of Smut, Knife Play, Insecurity, Anxiety/Upset, Minor Implications/Spoilers about Ghost’s Past, Mention of a Strap-On, Brief Mention of Murder/Killing, Angst, Fluff, Possessiveness, Protectiveness, etc.

Ghost:

Has absolutely zero clue as to why you're insecure about your stretch marks.

Genuinely never even thought of them before now, even though he’s seen them many a time.

However, when you expressed concerns over the way you looked - the way you felt - because of these marks, he set about trying to make you feel better immediately.

He’s not the most emotionally mature person; having to grow up as quickly as he did at such an early age definitely stunted his emotional growth, making it difficult for him to feel and express emotions clearly.

But for you, he’ll try his best.

He starts nuzzling into your thighs and stomach more often outside of sex; just tender moments between the two of you, with him showcasing how much he loves you and your body.

He’d try words of affirmation, saying how he thought you looked “Positively spiffing” (he was using the term humorously but meant every word) in your outfit.

Whenever you cracked a smile, he’d feel triumph bloom like solid gold in his chest, casting him in a glow of pride.

Eventually, he’d showcase to you the parts of himself he would never show another soul.

One evening, Simon had his hoodie off, his back and chest fully exposed to you. And all the scars that seared across them. You tracked your finger along them, creeping from one gash to another. All the while, Simon rhymed them off to you: when, where and how he’d gotten them.

You traced one on his shoulder blade. The warm glow of the room belying the horrific means through which the scar was attained.

“Paris, terrorist attack, twenty-ten.”

“I never heard of an attack in Paris then,” you said, tone questioning.

Simon cast a lopsided smile over his shoulder at you. You caught it.

“That’s the point.”

He turned to face you fully, placing a hand on your waist, beginning to hike your shirt up. You placed your hands over his, shaking your head, a wide-eyed expression overtaking you.

“No, Simon,” you said quietly. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. His head tilted.

“Why not?” He said. “Have I done something to upset you?”

At that, your eyes snapped up and found his, dark and gleaming. You shook your head, vehement in your judgement.

“No, God no! Simon, it’s not you, it’s-”

“Don’t say it’s you - don’t you dare say it.” 

The authority in his tone made you ache in places you didn’t want to think about right now. You shifted.

“But…it is me, Simon.” You felt your eyes and throat sting with tears. “It’s always me.”

“Love–” Simon’s movements were stutterish as he took your chin in his hand and inched your face up to meet his. You tried resisting, but he wasn’t going to let this rest. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

There lay a desperation in his voice you’d never heard before, and neither had Simon. You sniffed, and, your eyes shimmering with tears, you looked up at him. Only sincerity painted his features, no trace of condemnation or judgement hanging upon a single point. You swallowed.

“It’s just that…I appreciate what you’re doing for me - believe me, I do ! - but…”

“...But…?”

“But your scars mean something; you got them through protecting people, fighting for them - caring for what matters most–” You choked on a sob, tears starting to roll down your cheeks. “And mine are just…” it burned your tongue to say it, “there.”

Simon went quiet for a moment.

“(Y/N)...” His voice was a rumble of thunder, the cleansing storm rising over the tainted hill. He took your hands in his, abandoning your shirt. He rubbed reassurances into your hands, tracing the veins, the valleys of muscle and the alleys of life which pumped through them. His eyes seemed to turn down at the ends, round, doe-like.

“Your marks are not ‘just there’.” He wiped a stream of tears indenting the heather face of your cheek, and his hand remained there, collecting those which followed. “They are evidence of how you’ve lived, how you’ve survived,”

His hand dropped to your chin, bringing your face up to his once more, shining his moonbeams upon you.

“They show how you’ve grown. How you’ve lived and enjoyed a life you made for yourself. Your marks succeed where mine have failed; yours scream life, while mine whisper death - a life loved, and lives taken.”

Your mouth fell open. You were aghast, unable to conjure anything in your vocabulary that was either expansive or emotive enough to convey all that you felt. Your chest broke out into warmth, the dawn of a new perspective shining upon you as Simon did now.

Before you could form a sentence - as blubbering and elementary as it would be - Simon pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips. It was warm, all-encompassing, musical and low in the ringing silence of your desolate ocean.

He parted, cautiously, lips peeling from yours as if you were attached there, and looked upon you. Your cheeks were beginning to sting with the salt of your tears, vaguely chemical against your skin. You clambered into Simon’s arms, wounded and healing, and encompassed as much of him in your arms as you could.

“Your scars are beautiful, Simon,” you whispered into his chest. “No matter what you think - no matter what you say - I’ll always find them so.” You nuzzled into his neck. “I’ll always find them you.”

You heard Simon sniff, felt his chest rise with the sudden influx of air - emotion. You didn’t look up. You allowed him emotional anonymity.

“And I’ll always love your marks, (Y/N),” his voice strained, whispering and wisping. “I’ll always love them on you–” he pressed a strong, permanent kiss to your head, “--I’ll always love you.”

The evening consumed you, whisking you from the mortal coil to that of the metaphysical, that which was hidden to all but you and Simon, where you joined once again, physical bodies bound in a tight embrace, slumbering, dreaming.

König:

You actually came to König, sliding into his lap as he read a book, unable to keep what was eating you alive a secret any longer.

“Maus?” he said, putting Pride and Prejudice down and turning his full attention to you. “Is something the matter?”

You kept your head down and nuzzled into his chest, hoping his shirt would soak the tears staining your cheeks.

König tried to crane his neck down to see your face, but you hid it further into the cotton of his jumper.

König sighed, then began rubbing your back with a large hand.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it,” he said softly, gently. “No matter what.”

Maye thirty minutes passed, maybe it was only five, and König remained quiet for the duration, occasionally squeezing you and pressing a kiss to your head.

“I hate them,” you muttered, voice muffled by König’s chest.

Immediately, his back was up, like a cat’s. If he had the ears, they’d have been pricked.

“What?” he said, voice hard and thin, like a spear. You jumped in his lap and he sank back down, patting your head, a silent apology for his outburst.

His voice sounded as if it were spread thin, trying to conceal something far bigger than itself.

“Who has upset you so, maus?” He was careful with his words, trying to keep the extent of his bubbling anger at bay.

Finally, you looked up into his large, soft gaze. His eyes widened.

Your face was red in places, a map of countries in a continent called Sorrow.

Your eyes glistened, and König’s breath caught in his throat.

Before he could ask what was wrong, you shuffled off his lap and stood before him. You lifted your top and held it in your limp hand.

König’s eyes moved across your body as if searching for an injury, and when he turned up nothing, he looked you in the eyes.

“Maus, my lovely– I don’t understand,” König said as he shifted to the edge of the sofa, ready to jump up at your command.

You sighed deeply. “Don’t you see?” you said, folding your arms across your chest. “Don’t you see them, König?”

“See what?” His tone was becoming gradually frantic.

You huffed. “My marks, König! My– ugly– disgusting–”

“Hey, hey–” he slid off the sofa and enveloped you in his arms, holding you close to him, “--they are not ugly! Just– listen to me, maus–

“How do you deal with them?” you said, quiet as your namesake. Exasperated. “Your scars, Köni…how do you live with them?” Your voice croaked with tears, and the lump in your throat grew, bobbed up and down. It burned, reminded you of why you were here to begin with.

König thought for a moment, going quiet, his arms still wrapped around you. His hand squeezed your shoulder, fingers pressing soft, repetitive circles into your skin, a cycle of comfort. His warmth - his scent of pine - filled your senses, held you as he did now.

“There was a time,” he said, finally, his voice a whisper, “not too long ago, when… they made me hate myself, hate what I’d become.” He took your chin between his fingers and inched your face to meet his. He smiled, eyes crinkling. “But then I met you, and you told me how pretty you thought they were; ‘like tattoos,’ you said.” The memory tickled your mind and you couldn’t help but smile at the image of you sat on König’s chest, trailing a light finger just below his scars, afraid to touch them - their history - for fear it would hurt your dear König. He urged you to feel them, to make himself entirely transparent to you.

 “And that’s how I have grown to like - to love - them. Because your opinion means more to me than mine does.”

The stinging sensation in your eyes strengthened, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slip. Though, not of your own despair, but of your love for König, and his apparent adoration for you. König could tell your tears were not of sorrow, and he pressed a slow, light kiss to your lips.

“Unless you’re planning on leaving me for another man, I suggest you only listen to me from now on.” His smile made his cheeks round and full, his eyes turn into half moons.

“And what makes you sure I could leave you for someone else?” you said, speculatively, jokingly. Inquisitively. König gave an honest chuckle, taking your face between his hands and squishing your cheeks.

“With a body like that, you could have any man you wanted.” His tone was light yet held a hidden weight, a seriousness, perhaps an insecurity, he didn’t want to address. “I’m just glad you chose me.”

He punctuated his claim with another kiss, deeper, hotter this time.

Soap:

You were turned over in bed beside Soap, who, despite your best efforts to conceal yourself, heard your soft chokes of tears.

His initial, instinctive reaction had been to envelop you in his kisses, slip his arms around your waist and pull you flush against him, to implore you to tell him what had made you so upset.

But, as he lay on his side of the bed, listening to your silken sobs into your pillow, he felt his chest break out into weighted feeling of dread, tree roots digging through the skin and into his very being, tinging his blood with a most negative sensation of blackened lightning.

Empathy, one might call it. He was feeling what you felt.

He couldn’t take it, your tears, your despair, and so he turned, gently, onto his other side and faced your back.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched.

“Oh!” you said, patting your face with your sleeve. “Sorry, Johnny– I didn’t mean to wake you,”

Your voice was deceivingly light, airy - a front to throw Soap off your scent.

Soap didn’t bother with the formalities. His only priority now was you.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” he said. He pulled your shoulder back, willing you to at least look at him.

You didn’t move.

You refused to.

“Nothing, love,” you said, hushed beneath the tension in the room.

You turned, offering only a peak of your facial silhouette, sacrificing it to the sliver of moonlight peeking through the blinds.

It was wet, despite your best efforts to conceal any evidence of your upset.

Soap restrained a sigh and watched you try to burrow your way back into your pillow before he started asking any more questions. Without warning, he forced you to look at him, pulling you so you lay on your back. He sank down on top of you, knees bolted to your sides - one of which sat dangerously close to the edge of the bed, threatening to slip off at any moment.

His gaze was direct and impenetrable as he searched your eyes, hands pinning your wrists beside your head. His strength was unrelenting, unmoving. He wasn’t going to let you off easy on this.

“Now, then,” he said, voice low and dyed an erotic tone of resolution with his accent. “Are ye gonna tell me what’s upset you, or am I gonna have to force it out of ye?”

You knew he was joking, and you shared the knowledge that this was his way of trying to make you feel secure - that you could trust him. But of course, you already knew that.

You gaze drifted down to where yours and Soap’s thighs met, and the weight that had been pressing on you for weeks jumped down onto your chest again, urging a fresh set of tears to emerge. You looked away, off to the side, hoping you could hide the dried streaks your tears had left behind.

“Hey, Sweetie, look at me– look at me.” Soap’s voice grew stern, and, when you refused to cooperate, he took your chin between his fingers and made you look at him, grip decidedly firm yet gentle.

“Angel, baby–” his eyes pleaded with you for an answer. “What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t hold it anymore and burst into tears, trying to keep your sobs quiet. Soap remained atop you, caressing the side of your face. Your tears were thick, almost viscous with all that had caused them, as if they, too, bore the weight of what plagued you.

“My marks,” you said, your voice merely a sound rather than a sentence. Soap’s head tilted as he looked down at you.

“What was that?” he said, unsure as to whether he’d heard you correctly. You sniffed, fortified your voice.

“My marks,” you repeated, clearer now.

Soap looked at you as if you were speaking another language, and you mistook his silence for perhaps the oncomings of a laugh. Or worse yet, agreement.

Soap scoffed alright, but he didn’t laugh. Instead he rearranged so he sat further down your body. He lifted your shirt, which you tried to pull down. He growled and practically tore it off you. And you let him. He stared down at your abdomen, your thighs, and sighed deeply.

“Why on earth are you worried about your stretch marks?” he said, absolute and firm, as if it were the most obvious question in the world. You almost wanted to shrug and apologise for wasting his time, but you remained quiet.

“These marks,” he began, lowering his face to your stomach, “are part of you. You know what that means?” His gaze flickered from your abdomen to your face. When you shook your head, Soap gave a huff of a laugh, his breath hot and circling against your skin.

“It means that they’re not the burden you think they are; they’re not unsightly, or ugly, or anything else you can think to call them. They’re beautiful because they are you.”

Your tears were still welling, and Soap pressed a soft kiss to your stomach. Then another. Then another. He linked a chain of kisses, inching further down your body, reaching the band of your underwear. He looked up at you beneath heavy lids. He dipped his tongue beneath the band, making you jolt. He laughed.

“I mustn’t have been doing a good job of showing you how beautiful you are,” he said, lowly. His hands slid to your hips, hooking his fingers over the edge of your underwear and tugging them down.

“It’s time I changed that.”

Price:

He’d picked up on your off mood every day this week, but he’d wanted you to come to him when you were ready, rather than him chase you up about something you didn’t necessarily want to talk about.

You never cracked, though. Not even once.

You’d kept your thoughts to yourself, yet your body betrayed you.

Whenever Price had initiated something in the bedroom, you’d shied away, putting your hands against his chest and giving a weak, watery smile.

“Maybe another night?” you’d say, and Price respected your wishes.

But, he was growing agitated.

It wasn’t his sexual frustration which urged him to act, but his frustration at himself for not being able to tell what was troubling you.

He was your protector; it was his duty, his pleasure to look out for you in any way you needed him.

And he felt like he was failing.

Eventually, he asked you outright what had gotten you so upset, and when you reluctantly told him it was your stretch marks, Price sat there. Flabbergasted.

“That’s it?” He couldn’t help himself saying. But when he saw how much the topic meant to you after you gave him a stormy look, he changed his tune.

Consoled you well into the night, holding you, burying kisses into your skin, drawing lines against your marks, saying how he found them beautiful because they were “Part of you.”

Never lets you go a day without feeling appreciated - more so than he did prior to this discovery.

“You know, Darling,” Price began, laying in bed with you in his arms, “I can’t remember what my life was like before you came.”

You looked up at him. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against your hair.

“And I can’t imagine what it would be like without you in it.” The smile in his voice was more than a mere tone, but a feeling, deep and sincere, the epitome of love itself.

Your face broke out into a grin, beams shining through the clouded sky. “Oh?” you said, bringing your thigh over his middle. You slid on top of him, knees either side of his waist. You planted your hands on his chest, rubbing slowly. His chest rumbled, the beginnings of a purr. His eyes gleamed, his lips curled up beneath his moustache, pinched as raised theatre curtains

“How about I show you how much you mean to me?” Your request was more foreshadowing than anything else, but, in a plot twist, John gripped you by your thighs and rolled so that he was now on top of you, your wrists pinned beside your head.

He brought his face down beside your head. “Last I checked, that was my job,” he rasped, his beard scratching the side of your face. He slid a hand down to the hem of your night shirt, raising it over your stomach. “And I don’t plan on retiring.” 

Alejandro:

Is on the offensive immediately.

Thinks somebody’s said something to you that made you upset.

“Who was it, mi amor? Who do I have to kill?”

It would take all your strength to keep him from storming out the house and popping a cap in the first person he suspected as being the perpetrator.

You’d have to explain to him that nobody’s said anything to hurt your feelings, and that your insecurity about your stretch marks has been with you since you were young.

“It’s just the way I am, Love,” you’d say, casting a diluted smile Alejandro’s way. “‘Ts just the way things are.”

This shocks Alejandro; sends him into a catatonic state, even.

Not once had he even considered your stretch marks a point of insecurity: not for you, or him.

In fact, he thought they were cool, and whenever he’d show you his scars, he’d smile. “Now we’re matching!” He’d say.

After you’d expressed your insecurities about your marks, he’d never let you go a day where he’d remind you you’re beautiful (though, that isn’t saying much; there isn’t a day that goes by where he doesn’t make you feel worthy and loved. He just tries even harder).

Man’s a body worshiper if ever I saw one (and I have seen many).

When you’re laying down together and he has his head on your thighs, he’ll randomly turn around and start kissing your marks.

Only does this in private, and with good reason.

Definitely the type to use tongue, even if it’s on the surface of your skin.

Will not let you leave until he’s convinced you’re feeling better about yourself.

Tells you that his mission in life is to “Make you realise how beautiful you are in everyone else’s eyes, even if you don’t see it yourself.”

You can definitely use the insecurity card to request - ahem - ‘snuggle time’ with Alejandro.

If you say to him in your whiny voice: “Baaabe, I’m not feeling too good about myself today,” he’ll be on you like a rash.

You may think you’ve got one over on him, but don’t be fooled.

He knows what you’re doing, but he’s not going to stop you.

After all, why would he ever pass up the opportunity to show the person he loves most in all the world how beautiful they are?

“There will never be a day where I will not worship you, mi corazón,” he panted, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your thighs. “You are my god - my religion.”

His eyes gleamed as he looked up at you from between your legs. “My life.”

You screwed your eyes shut and whined when he licked a stripe against your underwear, catching you where you needed him most.

“Alejandro,” you whispered, his name a prayer on your lips. “Please,”

“Say it.” He slid a hand over your stomach, feeling your skin, your marks, beneath his warmth. “Say what you want me to do and I’ll give it to you.” There was no hint of a lie in his words, only the inescapable truth of his undying love for you and everything your body had to offer.

Between glistening eyes and an open mouth, you let him in. “You.”

Alejandro left many bruises and bites on you that night, all borne out of love. And, afterwards, as he looked upon your sleeping form, all he could think was of how ethereal you looked, and how lucky he was to have managed to find someone like you.

Valeria:

She simply won’t hear of it.

She’s quite an aggressive woman, and she expresses her love and adoration likewise.

Therefore, when you end up confiding in her that there is even a single part of yourself you’re insecure about, she flips her lid.

Not at you, of course. At who or whatever has made you feel this way.

She throws her hands up and curses in Spanish, saying how only she’s “allowed to make you feel that way.”

And she means it.

She won’t let you feel bad unless she wants you to (and even then it’s because you’ve whined and moaned for it).

Trust that she’s watching you like a hawk 24/7 after that.

If she finds you looking at your marks with anything less than adoration, she’ll drag you into the bedroom and force you to say you do, otherwise she’s not relenting with that ten inch strap-on.

She’s sensitive, however.

When she can tell that a quick therapy session isn’t going to change your mind, she’ll just sit with you and listen, make you a drink and hold you when you cry.

She’ll come up with the idea to name them - so they “feel like friends rather than enemies,”

Places warm, soft kisses along your marks, christening them with her love when you’ve decided on a name.

If you name one after her, she’ll be honoured.

“Now I’ll be with you forever,” she’ll say, wrapping her arms around your waist. “On you forever, I should say.”

Valeria dragged you into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. One of her men guarded the other side, frightening off other club-goers.

Valeria’s eyes were heavy, dark and all-consuming with a feral rage that only occurred under rare circumstances, those being her jealousy. She gave you little time to protest as she hiked you up onto the counter, the tap digging into your back.

“I’ll murder him,” she said, voice rasping with drink and the need to mark you - to take you. “I’ll kill them all - all those bastards that looked at you.”

“Valeria, please,” you gasped when she cut the lining of your jeans open, making the button pop and recede into a dark, grimy corner of the tiled room. Valeria brought the knife to your throat, her voice snarling and serious as death.

“I am the only one who can look at you.” The tip of her knife began its slow descent to the collar of your shirt, which she separated from your body with a long, ripping tear. Now, chest exposed, you yelped. Valeria forced your legs apart and crouched between them. Her knife sat at the waistband of your underwear.

“You’re mine,” she promised. “And if I need to mark you myself–” she trailed the tip of her weapon along the marks on your hips, “–then so be it.”

Gaz:

Will look at you like you’ve just asked him to recite Pi.

What???

What do you mean you don’t think your stretch marks look good?

Gaz thinks they look perfect!

He can’t imagine you without them; he’s genuinely emotionally attached to them.

You should’ve guessed as much when you felt him tracing them as you lay in bed.

Fr though, Gaz understands why you feel insecure, but he doesn’t understand why, if that makes sense.

He knows certain things get to you, thus making it plausible that you would become upset with something you found on your person, but he doesn’t understand why you’re insecure.

He can feel himself getting angry whenever he hears you talking - or even thinking - bad about yourself.

He’s not mad at you! Not at all.

He’s simply aggravated by the fact that something or someone has made it so you can’t see yourself the way he sees you.

To cheer you up, he’ll start relaying extremely specific compliments to you.

“I’d love you if you were a two foot tall worm with a receding hairline.”

“Uuuh…thank you?”

Though, if he found those didn’t work or, God forbid, made you feel worse-

“So you’re saying that you only find my personality attractive and not my body.”

– He’ll find another way of lifting your spirits.

“I would commit arson if you ever tried to get rid of your stretch marks.”

“...Why?”

“Because I love them and they’re my friends 🥺.”

Btw he’s fr about that - he sees your stretch marks as individual, sentient beings.

And he begins to tell you the backstories he’s made up for them.

And you can’t help but get attached to them, too.

“Hold on, why does Antonio get to be seen today and not Felicity?” you asked, holding the sleeveless vest to your torso. Gaz returned, throwing a pile of yet more sleeveless shirts, vests and other variants onto the bed.

“Because I haven’t seen Antonio all week and I’m starting to think you’re playing favourites.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Poor guy’s probably suffocating under all those jumpers you wear!”

“Oh?” You raised and eyebrow, looking at Gaz in the mirror. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Gaz threw you a devilish smile, the corners of his lips pointing up like horns, sharp and curled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, holding the vest against you.

“Put the vest on and you won’t have to find out.” He pressed a constellation of kisses to your shoulder, up the connecting junction of your neck and shoulder, until he reached your jaw. “Unless you want to.”

Graves:

When you initially told him, he wasn’t sure how to respond.

Genuinely thought money would make all your problems go away.

He threw a wad of rolled-up George Washingtons at you and told you to “Buy something nice - do yourself up pretty.”

Obviously, not the best thing to say to somebody who’s insecure.

And when you didn’t talk to him for days afterwards, he realised where he’d gone wrong.

You wanted reassurance, not a solution.

See, he’s so used to using money to make his problems disappear that he thought it’d be a quick fix for you, too.

Pokes his head round the bedroom door like heeeyyy~ before taking a  seat beside you on the bed.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t realise you just wanted to talk rather than have me fix the problem.”

His wording’s still very off, but he’s working on it with gentle guidance from you.

He genuinely never realised your stretch marks were an insecurity for you, though, hencewhy he’s not so good at the whole ‘reassurance’ thing.

He learns quickly, though.

It starts off with small gestures; putting a hand over your marks, looking at them fondly, telling you how gorgeous you were every single day.

And, eventually, when you’re being more…intimate, he’ll refuse to let you cover yourself up (unless you really want to, ofc).

Trying to hide your marks? Not for long - Phillip’s got a PHD in cloth tearing, and you’re his first job.

“I don’t remember telling you you could do that.”

Aggressive love. Full-on laving his tongue over your marks.

“Just markin’ what’s mine, Angel.”

Doesn’t give you even a second to feel insecure anymore.

Encourages you to wear clothing that reveals your marks if he thinks it’ll make you feel better.

Again, won’t force you to; if you don’t like revealing clothing overall, he’ll make sure to find other ways of empowering you.

Gets very territorial whenever he catches someone staring at you because he firmly believes that, 100% of the time, it’s because they’re checking you out.

Will glower at them with his eyes until they look away, cowering.

And all the while he’s looking at you, thinking God damn, I can’t believe I managed to pull you <3

“Love, why did you stare at that man in the bar earlier?” You asked, not looking up from your book. In the dim light of the bedroom, you saw Phillip’s head turn, looking at you. In your periphery, you saw his cheeks lift. He crept closer.

“Ain’t it natural for a man to want to protect what’s his?” His voice carried with it a weight you recognised as rhetorical. You put your book down on the bedside table and resisted a knowing smile.

“I don’t know,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is it?”

A sly smile crossed Graves’ face, and, in an instant, he was on top of you, his weight definite and promising of something. He wrangled your arms, pinning them above your head. And you only smiled up at him as he beamed down at you.

“Oh, I think you know it is.” His eyes gave no way to humour or jest, possessing within their oyster shell colour a pearl of the rarest, most valuable material: love.

Graves leaned down, and, biting the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss beneath it, whispered.

“And you know how much I hate sharin’.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Zoro x Fem Reader Angst! Zoro is unconscious and S/O protects/drags Zoro while trying to escape the battlefield of marines and explosives. Zoro’s about to lose his life, but S/O sacrifices her arms to save him and his dream and get him to safety. When Zoro wakes up, he’s recovering and he learns what happens. He’s enraged at S/O and practically screams at her, saying unforgivable things to the point where S/O is crying. S/O avoids him until Zoro apologizes. S/O obtains new cybernetic arms.

Goodness gracious this is some angst. I LOVE IT.

Hah I wrote this when I was sad.

I have PTSD from an accident and I thought for a minute I lost my leg. I couldn't see it, and I knew that it takes time to register if you lost your leg. So. Yeah. This is kind of an outlet for that accident. Plus an outlet from my toxic relationships.

This takes place post-timeskip, with Law making an appearance as an ally.

MAJOR WARNING: THIS WILL (probably) TRAUMATIZE YOU. Reader will have PTSD, ANXIETY ATTACKS, AND BE VERBALLY ABUSED. But becomes besties with Franky so ya know... up to you.

TW's: BUCKLE UP BUTTERCUP THIS IS ANGST, angst to eventual comfort, reader pukes from pain, gore, shame, insecurity, fights, verbal abuse (from s/o), punching a wall above reader's head, anxiety attacks, depression

Part 1: The Fights

Your head was spinning. This battle was a hell of a lot more than anyone on the crew thought it would be. Explosions were nearly constant, deafening you until all you could hear was buzzing. Vibrations from the ground and the air shook your body, and you could barely keep up with your enemies. Their surprise attack worked, and it worked damn well.

You finally got in a good blow to the marine, knocking him unconscious with your weapon. It was the last of the marine group that had recently swarmed you. You took a brief moment to take stock of the battlefield. Zoro was fighting a swarm of marines behind you. You knew that wouldn't be an issue, so your gaze continued to roam.

Luffy was on the rooftops fighting the stronger of the marines, getting further and further away from the group. You saw a random patch of thunder clouds in the distance, knowing that's where Nami was. You couldn't see Usopp, Robin, Franky, or Sanji anywhere. Brook and Chopper were still supposed to be watching the ship. A flash of movement caught your eye nearing Zoro. You had no idea what that weapon was exactly, but the marines seemed relieved, and that was a bad sign.

"Zoro!" you cried out desperately. Even your own voice was so muffled that you felt the vibration of your voice more than heard yourself. He couldn't hear you. You started running. Something felt dangerous about that weapon. It was about as big as a bazooka, but the ammo looked strange. All you could tell in the moment was that the marines nearby were carrying it with extra care.

"Zoro!" you called again. Nothing. Your legs burned as you sprinted towards the group of marines he was steadily working his way through. He was almost done. His back was towards you, and if he felt your presence, he probably thought you were running to back him up. The weapon was almost upon the two of you.

Just as you approached him, he finished off the last of the marines, knocking them out cold. He turned an eye towards you, the gleam and thrill of violence evident in gaze. You pointed desperately towards the weapon, knowing your expression held fear. He turned in the direction of it, grinning at the challenge. Something wasn't right about the weapon, but you trusted that he could take care of it.

The marines took aim. You readied yourself to dodge, to feel the heat and shockwave of the explosion. Zoro stood slightly in front of you, ready with all three of his swords, breathing heavily but evenly. He could cut anything. You watched as the marine pulled the trigger. Everything seemed to slow down. Your breaths, heart rate, and the aches and pains of the battle dialed to zero as your focus sharpened. The ammo was almost too bright to look at. Why was it already exploding? He couldn't cut-

Your body moved before your thought was completed. Standing in front of the swordsman, you used your weapon to bat away the explosive, redirecting it to the side. It didn't work. It already exploded. You shot backwards into Zoro as the force and heat from the explosion slammed into your arms and chest. The two of you flew backwards through multiple walls. You only remember feeling the jolt of the crash through Zoro's body more than twice before you blacked out. You think you came to pretty quick, and tried to reach towards him.

White-hot agony seared through your arms, and you couldn't tell if you screamed or not. You couldn't hear, not through the pain or through the ringing in your ears. You felt the ground vibrate as marines marched towards your prone bodies. The weapon. Shit.

The jolt of adrenaline made you stand, swaying as you nearly passed out or threw up from the pain. But you could do that later. Now, you just needed to get away. Your arms were useless. One was burning with pain, and the other was... gone.

You looked in shock at the stump where your arm used to be. It was gone. Your stomach lurched and bile rose in your throat as your gaze rose to see a familiar hand sticking out from under a rock. Blood saturated the ground around it. Burnt meat filled your nostrils. Your other arm hung uselessly by your side, burnt almost to the bone. You felt the vibrations through the ground getting stronger. You would die if you didn't leave, NOW.

Zoro was knocked out cold, a nasty gash on his temple. His chest was still rising and falling, luckily. With no other choice, you knelt to the ground, and gripped his coat with your teeth. You scooted back, hauling his weight. Your jaw and teeth ached with the effort, but you thanked whatever diety was out that that the burnt flesh of your arm was falling numb. Your reprieve was short lived. Agony flashed through the stump of your now-missing arm, causing you to scream. You tasted blood as your vocal chords ripped slightly with the sound.

But you continued moving, hauling his weight backwards with your teeth as marines rounded the corner. They were walking almost casually, evil grins on their faces at the horror they caused. fuck. They saw you immediately. The young marines blanched and vomited at your state, seeing you conscious with one burnt arm barely hanging onto your frame and the stump of the other bleeding profusely down your side, soaking your body in a brown-red. Honestly, the question as to how you were even still conscious hadn't crossed your mind. Until now. You staggered onto your knees, breathing heavily as you crouched in front of Zoro. You could get by without arms. Your dream could be accomplished without them. His couldn't. He needed to live, and he needed his body.

With the thought, you staggered to your feet, swaying dangerously.

"Oi Oi, that bitch is fucking rabid!" one marine called out. Your hearing must be coming back if you could hear the muffled comments of the men in front of you. The comment made you grin, and the men flinched. You knew you couldn't hold on much longer, so you did the only thing you could think of.

"LUUUFYYYY!!!! NAAAAMIIII!!! SANNNJIIIII!!!! USOOOP!!! ROBINNNN!!!! FRAAANNKYYYY!!!!" you screamed your crewmates names desperately. The effort of it sent you tumbling onto your knees. Darkness ringed your vision. You blinked, trying to focus your eyes. You thought you heard your name, but suddenly saw marines flying left and right. You knew somebody came to save you. You fell into blissful unconsciousness as you hit the ground.

~~~~~~~~

"...sure?....pain....medicine....arms....injuries..." voices faded in and out as you slowly came to. You were so hungry. Or were you nauseous? Oh fuck. Yeah you were nauseous.

"gonna puke" you mutter. Hands helped you sit up and you immediately puked your guts up with the new position. Luckily there was a bucket held under you already. More hands held your hair back. You spat out the final wave and went to wipe a hand over your clammy forehead. Nothing happened. A straw prodded your lips slightly.

"Here. Rinse your mouth out."

You recognized Chopper's voice and did as you were told. Your eyes cracked open slightly and you winced at the light. If you hadn't just puked, you would've just then.

"brigh'" you slurred. The lights dimmed almost immediately. Someone eased you back down on the bed, and you moaned with the wave of dizziness that accompanied it.

"Zoro?"

"He's fine. He's healing and resting now, thanks to you" Chopper spoke quietly. Your throat burned, and you swallowed.

"Go back to sleep. You need the rest"

~~~~~~

The second time you woke up, you managed not to puke. You were definitely drugged, and you panicked for a second before your eyes landed on Chopper. He glanced around at the sound of your shifting and did a double take when he saw your open eyes. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're awake finally" he said. You grunted, unable to coherently form a sentence in your state. Memories flickered into your mind, and you went to sit up, but blinding white hot agony forced you back on the bed with a strangled scream.

"Hey don't move!" Chopper chided. He still kept his voice low. Tears flowed down the sides of your face towards your ears.

"Chopper" you whispered hoarsely. You started sobbing uncontrollably. It hurt so much. You lost your arms. You lost both your arms. I don't have arms anymore.

He came forward, shushing you and smoothing a hoof over your forehead.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. You're going to be okay."

"Zoro? Is he okay?"

"He's fine. He's already training"

You sniffled. You wanted to wipe away your tears, and the thought that you couldn't sent you into panicked sobs.

"I lost them Chopper. Please. I can't. I can't do it. It hurts so much. I'll only- Luffy will kick me off. I can't. I don't have anywhere to go" you rambled in your panic. Chopper looked at you with growing concern as you spoke, breaths heaving faster and faster. He suddenly fiddled with your IV, and he looked at you apologetically as you drifted into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~~~

You awoke the third time for good. Sunlight streamed into the infirmary through the small window, and you could hear muffled sounds of the group eating in the dining area. You groaned. Your whole chest, shoulders, and arms hurt. Down to your fingers. You tried to wiggle them, but nothing happened. You looked down at your arms. You were tucked into blankets on a cot that was angled so you weren't completely flat. You could see the outline of your shoulder, but halfway down your bicep, the blanket fell flat. Memories slammed into you. Your gaze whipped to the other arm. Only about an inch of your arm was left if you measured from your armpit.

You let your head fall back, tears tracking heated trails down your face. You tried to breathe, but everything hurt. At least Zoro is okay you thought. His dream could still happen, and he was alive. That's all you could ask for. The door to the infirmary creaked open, and you let your gaze fall to it. Sanji. He immediately backed out and called to the doctor.

"Oi Chopper! She's awake!"

Loud clamoring from trying to wrangle the suddenly very excited Luffy made a bolt of sharp pain stab through your head. You flinched, leading to more pain echoing down your chest and shoulders, and your phantom arms.

Chopper came in. Zoro followed, and you sighed a breath of relief at the sight of your healthy lover. A third, large frame squeezed into the infirmary. Franky. You were surprised to see him, but happy too. Looking at him, you suddenly remembered he basically rebuilt himself. He's been where you are now. A silent bond formed when he grinned at you, tears brimming his eyes. You smiled back slightly. You let your gaze fall back onto Zoro, taking in his form as Chopper checked you over. It distracted you.

By doing this, however, you didn't miss his dark expression as the reindeer peeled back your blankets down to your waist to check your vitals.

"Zoro..." you started. Your voice sounded hoarse. Zoro didn't move. He stared at your injuries, fury taking over his features. Franky moved forward, retrieving a nearby cup with a straw for you to sip some water. He held it up to your lips and you sipped gratefully. His frame blocked you from Zoro. Franky moved back, and all you heard was a door slam shut. Zoro was gone.

You blinked in confusion. Did he...? Why? Shock must've been written on your face, because Chopper spoke up.

"He's just... struggling to comprehend you got so badly injured while protecting him."

Franky nodded.

"It can hurt a man's pride, but it would've hurt his pride worse if he couldn't continue his dream. You saved his life, and his dream. Just let him be."

You sighed, nodding. You really wanted affection during this hard time. You just wanted him to say that he still loved you and that everything was going to be okay. But he couldn't. Was that selfish of you to want that?

"So. How bad is it?" you ask quietly. Franky sat on the bed by your ankles, putting one heavy hand on it.

"Before you know the details... You should know that you're not alone in this. I've been where you are... well... kinda. But once you're ready mentally and physically, I can build you new arms. We can work together on what you want, and even add some fun things to them. But you're not alone. Luffy would never kick you off his crew, especially when you sacrificed so much for another one of us. The only reason we held him back from coming in here is because he'd probably be too rough hugging you. And Zoro... he won't admit it but he's traumatized. He woke up while we were carrying the two of you back to the ship and thought you were dead. He saw your arm in the rubble. He threw up and wouldn't let anyone else carry you back to the ship."

You let the words wash over you. Your mind was lagging from the drugs but you understood the message. You finally nodded once your understanding clicked into place. You turned to Chopper, suddenly grateful for Franky's solid presence.

"So? How bad is it?"

Chopper roughly brushed away his tears before he clinically gave you the news.

"The bomb was a prototype, something that the Navy hopes to build on a large scale. It was designed to explode right before impact to stop pirates from knocking away the ammunition. It was the angle of your arm as you went to hit the ammo that protected the rest of your body from significant harm. The arm that was burnt off took most of the impact. You lost the other from shrapnel as you were thrown through walls. You have a cracked sternum and some broken ribs from the shockwave, and you had a slight concussion. Your vocal chords were damaged slightly as well, but those should heal soon."

You took the news numbly. It was like it was a horrific list of injuries that happened to someone else.

"I'm afraid I have to ask now though... do you remember it?"

You nodded silently.

"All of it?"

"Every second I was conscious. I know I blacked out when we were thrown through a wall, so I didn't feel my arms until I woke up after that. Saw my arm under a rock, soaking the ground with my blood. I wanted to throw up but I didn't have the time. I smelled my arm burning, then I felt it. The marines were coming. So I tried to drag Zoro with my teeth to get away, but I was too slow. My burnt arm was going numb but my missing one suddenly... I felt it. I stood up, and I remember thinking that I can get by without arms. He can't reach his dream without his, and I protected his body. I remember a marine saying that I was a rabid bitch, so I smiled at them, then called your names before I passed out from blood loss."

Bile rose in your throat as you recalled the memories. You gagged, and you felt your shoulder move as you instinctively went to slap a hand over your mouth. Chopper shoved a bedpan under your mouth and you threw up the water you just drank. Franky held back your hair and shushed you.

"Hey hey, don't push it. You're safe now. You're on board the Sunny, in Chopper's infirmary. Our captain is Monkey D. Luffy, and he's going to be the pirate king. Our cook is Sanji, Usopp is our sniper, Robin is an archeologist, and Nami is our navigator. Luffy likes meat, Sanji loves cooking, Usopp likes playing pranks on people, Robin likes coffee, and Nami likes tangerines. You with me? Breathe for me. In- one, two, three, four. Hold- one, two three, four. Out- one, two three, four.... you with me?"

Your shuddering breaths eased with Franky's help. You looked at him with teary eyes.

"Why do I still feel them? Why do my arms still hurt but they're not there?"

Chopper piped up quietly.

"The nerves are still getting used to what's left of your arms. Your brain has to rewire itself to accommodate this change, and it takes time. But Franky and I will both work to get you some new arms, as soon as you're ready, okay?"

Franky nodded. "It's called phantom limb pain commonly. I had it while I was healing after getting destroyed by the sea train, but it was easy to adapt when I rebuilt myself. It... it's terrible. It's going to mess with your head and bring up memories of the incident. It's going to ache and hurt like a bitch some days. I found for me, distracting myself helps."

You were quiet, staring at the blankets. You felt exhausted. It was too much to take in at once.

"Okay" you muttered. You yawned, and Franky stood. Chopper soothed some stray hair back from your forehead.

"Get some rest. You need to heal" he said. You nodded.

"Can... Can someone stay? I don't wanna be alone" you mumbled. Franky smiled at you before turning his gaze to the reindeer, jerking his head towards the door.

"Go finish eating. I'm full. Everyone will want an update too, and you can answer their questions better."

Chopper hesitated, but left once you nodded once at him.

"I'll be back soon"

You faded off to sleep before the door even opened.

~~~~~~~~

(TW- OOC Zoro verbally abusing reader, slight ooc Luffy and Sanji)

"oi."

The voice wriggled its way into your dreamless sleep, drawing your attention but not quite waking you up.

"Oi"

The voice was louder. Familiar. Something shook your leg slightly, and you sighed as you rose from your slumber, blinking open your eyes with a hum. Your gaze landed on green hair and a muscled frame.

"Zoro?" you asked, voice slurred with sleep. Pain shot down your torso as you tried to rub your eyes, and the full force of the memory of the trauma resurfaced like a knife to the gut.

You didn't have arms.

You whined, but were too exhausted to cry or panic again.

"Why did you do it?" His voice was harsh, spitting the words like they were venom.

"huh?"

"Why. Did. You. Do. It." The grip on your knee tightened slightly with each word until it was sure to leave marks. Your heart sank in fright and confusion.

"Zoro... your han-"

"Answer me!" His grip thrashed your leg around, jostling you on the bed. You cried out in pain.

"W-why did I d-do what Zoro?!" you asked, stuttering from fear and pain.

"You lost your arms to save me. Why?!"

"That-that's not really what happened. One got caught in the explosion and the other got cut off when I was thrown through a wall. I swear-"

"Don't play dumb with me, bitch. I don't need saving." His grip turned lethal on your knee, and it felt like he was considering crushing the bone. You hissed and whined in pain. This had to be a nightmare- your Zoro wouldn't act like this. Right?

"Your little act of heroism is keeping me awake. I can't sleep until I know why. So TELL ME!" he yelled the last words, his sharp tone echoing dully off the wooden walls.

Your heart shattered. He was... blaming you? Because he couldn't sleep? While you had saved his life and had lost your arms?

"I-I... Zoro I don't know what you want me to say. Losing my arms was an accident, and you were knocked unconscious so stood in front of your body. I wasn't really thinking I gue-"

'YOU WEREN'T THINKING?! WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? YOU THINK I'M TOO FUCKING WEAK TO DEFEND MYSELF HUH?" He shoved off his seat, jostling your body a final time.

He drove a fist through the wall over your head, and you screamed.

The door to the infirmary slammed open, revealing Luffy and Sanji. Zoro didn't even look. He leaned over you, pinning you with his gaze.

"You weak, pathetic piece of shit! I never should've dated you. I never would've if I knew you would turn out like this! Losing your arms to a wall? I would've rather the bomb hit me and died than ever see a sight as ugly and pitiful as you are now! You stupid-"

"ZORO!"

Luffy finally found his voice through the shock of his first mate verbally abusing you like this. Anger rolled off his body in waves, and Sanji was still rooted with angry shock.

Luffy grabbed Zoro by the back of his head with his stretchy hand and hauled him out of the room. You were shaking, shocked and hurt by the words that just flew from the lips of the man you love. Chopper suddenly trotted up to your bedside, looking incredibly worried.

"Hey it's okay. You're okay. You're not weak or pathetic at all. You're severely injured but you're alive, okay? That makes you so, so strong. I promise"

You hardly heard Chopper's attempt at soothing you, staring at the doorway Luffy had dragged your boyfriend through. You turned your head to look at the hole in the wood above your head. Drops of blood dripped down the wall slowly.

"Uh-uhm. He-he's hur-hurt. You'd be-better go check o-on him" you breathed shakily.

"He'll be fine" a smooth voice answered. A handkerchief wiped your cheeks of tears you didn't even know you'd shed. Sanji smoothed hair back from your face gently.

"You sacrificed so much for this crew, you will never be weak. Don't let that fucking idiot take that away from you." A finger tilted your chin up slightly, but you turned your head, slipping from his grip.

"Look at me, darling."

You shook your head slightly. Sanji sighed, and tried again. You could feel Chopper checking your wounds to see if any had opened with the rough treatment from earlier.

"Please. Look at me" he begged, sounding close to tears. You finally looked up, meeting his gaze. A small smile quirked up the ends of his lips.

"There she is. You're so strong, beautiful, and kind. You are in no way pathetic or weak for what was done to you. Okay?"

Tears pooled in your eyes, pain from your broken heart and your injuries constricting your chest.

"Are you in pain?" Chopper asked. You nodded.

"I love him, but I think he just broke me a little."

Chopper glanced at Sanji, who was obviously trying to tamp down his rage at the swordsman. He held out a shaking hand, giving the handkerchief to Chopper now that he was done checking your injuries. The doctor accepted, giving Sanji a nod.

"I'll stay with her. Go."

"I owe you one" Sanji replied before walking out the door. As the door opened, you heard yelling and a clashing of metal, but it was closed quickly and gently.

"Your wound's didn't open again but it was close. It must've hurt." Chopper said gently. He wiped the handkerchief gently over your cheeks and under your nose.

"Do you want more pain medicine? You'll go right back to sleep. You can rest now that Luffy and Sanji are... taking care of Zoro."

You hesitated. There was one person that had been so calming during this whole incident.

"Can... can Franky sleep here too? I'd feel better if he'd be here when I woke up"

"Of course. Let me go get him really quick!" Chopper trotted out the door, allowing the sounds of more shouting to reach your ears. The door opened hardly a minute later, Franky's large frame entering the room.

"Yeow! You called?" he said, cheerful as ever. It brought a small smile to your face.

"I just wanted to be near you. You... get it" you said simply. Franky nodded, plopping his ass right in front of the door.

"Nobody is getting past me unless you're okay with it. Got it? Now sleep. You need it." He said gently. Chopper moved to your IV, and with a nod from you, raised the dosage slightly. Sleep took you quickly.

~~~~~~~~

You roused with a bright light shining on your face, and you groaned lightly, turning your face away. A tired sigh passed through your nostrils. You heard loud snores nearby, and your brow furrowed lightly in confusion before recognizing them as Franky's. The mattress dipped slightly and you heard Chopper's small grunt of effort hauling himself up on the bed. Pain stabbed through your chest and shoulders, but it was manageable for now.

"are you awake?" he whispered. You hummed.

"Too bright." you murmured. His weight disappeared from the bed and the sound of a curtain drawing made your ears perk up. Your eyes blinked open tiredly, focusing on the ceiling.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mmm... Okay I guess."

"How's the pain level?"

"Less than yesterday."

"Good. You're healing fairly quick."

You let out a non-committal grunt at Chopper's optimistic observation. You just felt... Numb? Cold? Disheartened? Trying to name the emotions brought back the memory of Zoro's words last night.

Pathetic.

Ugly.

He'd rather die than date me like this.

Stupid.

You turned your head slightly away from Chopper, letting him examine you. Franky's snores had stopped sometime during your brief exchange with the doctor, and you heard a loud yawn as he woke.

"How ya doin kiddo?"

You simply hummed, letting Chopper answer for you.

"Her wounds are healing rather quick. I think the cybernetic arms can be attached soon, if the two of you figure out the design."

Your heart sped up at the thought of more pain and surgery, breaths quickening. Franky seemed to immediately catch on.

"There's a way to do it when it's fully healed too, so don't worry too much about the time. We'll do them whenever she- you're- ready." He directed his last sentence towards you, letting you in on the conversation. You didn't react.

"Can I have some water?" your voice was still raspy from waking up. Franky brought a straw up to your lips and you sipped some stale water.

"Are you hungry?" Chopper asked. You shook your head slightly. You just wanted to sleep, to escape this reality. The reality where you lost. Lost your arms. Lost the man you love.

"I know you may not be up for much at all, but almost everyone is going to take turns keeping you company, got it? We're here for ya." Franky gently smoothed a stray lock of hair from your face. You heard the message between the lines: "we'll keep you safe from Zoro". You blinked listlessly, wishing your body would let you go back to sleep.

"What happened to him?" you asked quietly. The energy in the room became charged, and you could tell both Franky and Chopper were hesitant to speak about Zoro's outburst with you.

"He fought Luffy and Sanji, and even tried to fight Nami and Robin but Robin pinned him down. Luffy got through to him... eventually"

"but it's still my fault" The whisper left your lips mindlessly. Franky knelt next to the bed, making sure his face was in your line of sight.

"Nothing like this is ever your fault. You love someone enough to unthinkingly put yourself in a situation where your body is destroyed, and yet you lived. You're alive. You're part of our crew, no matter what. You're our family, and this family is our home."

Tears burned your throat and budded in your eyes.

"Franky... I'm so lost."

"I know, kiddo. But I promise, we'll help you find your way again. You're safe with us, and loved by all of us."

"Not Zoro though."

"... I can't tell you if he loves you in the same way, but he will protect you because you're our family, okay?"

You blinked, letting the tears track wet trails down your face.

"Can you talk to me about your ideas for my arms?"

A broad smile split his face, and he pulled up a stool to regale you with his ideas.

~~~~~~~~

A week passed. A humiliating, helpless week of staying in bed and asking for things. You didn't see Zoro, nor did you ask to see him. You asked if he was alright, but that was it. The crew spent hours with you at a time. Nami chatted about gossip and fashion magazines, Robin read books aloud to you in her soothing voice, Sanji talked to you about interesting cooking techniques as he fed you every meal, Usopp told tall tales, Brook played soft music and told you of adventures with his old crew, and Luffy talked about beetles and animals he or napped with you. Chopper was in and out of the room through the day, checking on you while he kept you company.

You were numb and listless for days, until a stupid story from Usopp made your lips twitch into a smile. He milked the joke and story until you were giggling softly, and some stress seemed to lift from the crew's shoulders later in the day. Franky kept bringing you ideas and fabricated bits of that would become your cybernetic arms, easing you into the idea of them. The first few times he brought them in, you'd panicked, only able to feel the pain and the burn of losing them. He walked you through breathing and grounding yourself, his voice calm and soft.

You stopped asking about Zoro after the first week. He obviously only saw you as pathetic, ugly, and stupid, so why bother burdening him with your concern? It was Robin who brought him up again, having noticed your lack of curiosity.

"Zoro's been training all day, every day for over a week now. He'll only eat meals so he doesn't have to deal with Sanji's nagging and only sleeps when he's not on night watch. I'm almost concerned for him" she said casually. You hummed in response, looking away from her as you kept your expression neutral.

"Not much anyone can do about that" you replied. She dropped the subject.

Another week passed with you falling into bouts of depression and hopelessness between distractions that captured your attention completely. Your pain had fallen to a level of an aching that seeped deep into your soul to the point where you couldn't tell where your physical pain and your depression divided. Franky and Chopper were your saving grace, with Sanji offering heartfelt messages of support. One afternoon, Chopper and Franky finally approached you, cautiously excited. You blinked at their odd behavior.

"What is it?" you asked tiredly. The duo traded glances before Franky spoke.

"Remember how we're allied with the Heart Pirates?" he began. You nodded slowly, your body still protesting from the movement.

"Do you remember their captain?"

"Yeah? Trafalgar Law- the Surgeon of Death... where are you going with this?"

Chopper piped up.

"I told him about your case. He told me that due to his ability, the surgery for your arms could potentially be exponentially less painful than doing it the way Franky and I would." he said, a little sheepish that he had told another doctor about you.

You furrowed your brow. You didn't like the word "potentially".

"Potentially?" you echoed. Chopper nodded.

"Nothing in medicine is exactly a given or a 100% chance. But he said it's likely to be much less painful if he were to use his ability to do the surgery."

You sighed, overwhelmed with the news. You felt exhausted already.

"When is he coming?" you asked. Franky answered your question.

"His sub'll be here tomorrow. The surgery itself won't happen tomorrow, because he needs time to familiarize himself with your injuries and the arms I made, but he'll talk to you about doing it. If you don't want it to happen that way, you don't really need to, but it'll be a lot better for everyone if you do, including yourself."

You viciously pushed away the thought that everyone seemed to know better than you now that you'd gone and done something stupid. You knew what they said made sense, and honestly you just wanted the arms attached finally. You puffed out a sigh, sitting up and wiggling your hips to ease the numbness in your legs.

"I'll talk to him about it" you finally replied. Chopper smiled widely with a giggle and Franky shouted his iconic "SUUUPERRRRRR" as he clashed his arms together in his dumb pose. It made you smile a bit. There was a quiet knock on the door that lead to the deck, distracting you from the pair's antics.

"Come in!" you called. You fully expected it to be Usopp or Robin, as Nami had kept you company this morning. Sanji would've knocked from the kitchen and the others simply didn't care about knocking. The door didn't open right away, and Chopper made his way over to open it. When you saw who was on the other side, your breath was punched out of your lungs, and you stared with eyes widened in shock.

"Zoro!" Chopper called happily before he seemed to remember what had happened. The swordsman's gaze met yours, and he immediately looked away. His previous words pierced your heart again.

Pathetic. Ugly. Weak. He'd rather die than date someone who's like this.

Franky jumped into action, standing in front of you protectively and blocking your view of Zoro.

"What are you doing here?" He asked evenly. You heard feet shuffle and his scabbards clank together as your new visitor shifted uncomfortably.

"I wanna talk to her" Zoro replied in a gruff voice. Franky looked back and down at you. His hulking figure felt protective, like an older brother. You thought for a second. You were tired, but knew if you didn't hear what he had to say, you wouldn't be able to sleep.

"Let him in. But stay right outside, and leave the door cracked open" you ordered. You knew your lack of trust in him would hurt Zoro, but you didn't want to take any chances. Not again.

Franky traded places with the swordsman, and you heard the door's latch tap the frame before you settled yourself to look at your new visitor.

"What do you need?" you asked flatly.

He stood there, fiddling with his sword handles as he looked down at the floor.

"I... wanted to... apologize." He finally spat out. One hand was gripping his white sword handle.

"You wanted to?" you echoed, somewhat surprised. His jaw tightened, tanned skin rippling lightly by his temple.

"I... Luffy said I needed to"

Disappointment and sadness pierced your gut like a spear of ice.

"Oh. Thanks I guess." you said. You couldn't hide the harsh bitterness in your voice, making your words sound sarcastic and angry. Zoro's expression darkened in anger.

"I'm trying to apologize! Isn't that enough?!"

White hot fury ripped through you, burning your filter to ashes. The pain caused by his words, his attitude, for scaring you by punching the wall over your head, for yelling at you, and for his lack of affection and love during the scariest time in your life so far reared its head.

"I WANT YOU TO APOLOGIZE WHEN YOU MEAN IT, ZORO! NOT BECAUSE YOU WERE ORDERED TO!"

The door slammed open, and Franky entered, dragging the writhing swordsman out of the room as he yelled to be let go. The door shut quickly behind them, Chopper quickly bounding to your bedside as you sat there, shaking.

"Breathe for me, okay? I'm right here. You're safe." Chopper's voice brought a sense of calm familiarity to your spinning mind, slowing it slightly. You wanted to reach out to him, to pet his fur or feel the hardness of his cloven hooves. But your couldn't. Tears from panic blurred your vision, knowing you'd never be able to feel things the same way again. The warmth of his skin, the touch of his callouses between your fingers or tracing patterns on your arms, or the softness of his hair.

"I can't touch you" is what tumbled out of your mouth. Chopper moved forward, nuzzling your cheek with his own, wiping away the tears with his fur. He hugged your neck gently, breathing deeply so you could follow his example. You let him ease you into a better state of mind, smelling his fur and feeling how soft it was on your cheeks and neck.

You heard angry yelling outside, but you were so tired of the emotion that it just washed over you as you calmed yourself with Chopper's help. Eventually your rage faded into numbness, and you laid back on the bed with Chopper cuddling your side.

"Hey... when do you think I can walk again?" you murmured into the quiet of the room. Chopper shifted, looking up at you as he hummed.

"Whenever you feel ready. It will likely hurt because you'll want to move your arms for balance, but maybe we can put a chair outside the door so you can get some sun and fresh air?"

It was your turn to hum in thought.

"I like that idea, but I'm not ready to see Zoro again."

You flinched as a crash shook the entire ship, and more yelling accompanied the commotion. Chopper looked worriedly towards the door.

"Maybe tomorrow then?"

Tears welled in your eyes suddenly, and you felt stupid for crying. The adrenaline from the anger had dissipated by this point, and you could only feel hurt at what Zoro had said. You couldn't believe that the man you at one point fell in love with had said those things. That he was only apologizing because Luffy said he needed to.

I really am pathetic.

You sniffed, alerting the fluffy doctor to your tears. He quickly hopped off the bed and returned with a few tissues. You tried to send him a weak smile, but failed as your jaw clenched with raw emotion. You cried for about a half hour, tears falling continually as you swallowed sobs. You looked listlessly at the ceiling, recalling all the good times you had with him. The laughs, watching each other's backs in fights, the peaceful times stargazing with him, even when he made love to you. He was so kind and soft towards you, treating you like you were precious. Were you worthless now that you had lost your arms?

Your tears finally stopped, and you heard a light knock on the door leading to the kitchen. Sanji. Chopper called for him to come in. You couldn't bring yourself to even move, let alone speak.

"I brought some chocolate covered fruits for the lady" he said gently. You swallowed back a fresh wave of tears. Why do I deserve to be treated so kind? Zoro's made it plenty clear that I shouldn't be.

"Thanks Sanji!" Chopper chirped, eyeing the food. The cook smiled, pulling out another plate behind his back for the doctor. Chopper's victorious and excited laugh made your lips twitch upwards and Sanji grinned in delight at the little reindeer. You heard him munching on his snack while humming at the delicious taste. Sanji approached you, sitting on the chair that had be almost constantly occupied by your various crewmates through the week- all except one.

You turned your gaze away from the chef, studying the now very familiar swirls of the wood on the ceiling above you.

"Hungry?" he asked. You could see him holding up a piece of chocolate covered fruit out of the corner of your eye, and you sighed.

"You can feed it to Luffy" you said quietly. You could tell Sanji's smile dimmed significantly at your answer, but he tried again.

"Luffy has his own. You need to keep your strength up."

"I'm not hungry"

He put the plate on the nearby table and leaned his elbows on his knees, holding his chin in one hand and let the other relax onto the bed. You wished you could hold it. Just to feel something. You looked the opposite way from him until he was completely out of your perhephial.

"Are you really not hungry or do you believe you're not worthy of such food other than the bare minimum to keep you alive?" he questioned. You could feel Chopper staring at you, waiting for your answer. You shut your eyes. Sanji sighed.

"Chopper, do you mind letting her and I talk alone?" he asked quietly. The doctor must have nodded, because you heard his hooves on the wood before he opened and closed the door.

"We're alone. Do you want to answer now?" he asked gently. You opened your eyes.

"No. I don't want to answer" you tried. Sanji hummed under his breath.

"Look at me, at least" he commanded gently. You prepared yourself, sighing as you let your head flop over so you could look at his face.

"There you are" he smiled. You furrowed your brows in a sad frown, fighting back tears.

"Why is he acting like... this?" you asked quietly. Sanji tried to anger at the mention of the swordsman, but failed to keep the glint out of his eye.

"Men are... complicated. They're often not in touch with their emotions like yours truly, so they can't put a name to what they're feeling. Fear and terror are supposed to be expressed as anger, loyalty means to fight for someone instead of to be by their side through thick and thin, and anger itself is supposed to be expressed through violence. That's how men are supposed to be. That's how Zoro is. He's got the emotional intelligence of a rock. He was terrified of losing you, and ashamed he got knocked out because he didn't listen to your advice to run, which resulted in you losing your arms while you protected him. He feels guilty, terrified, and helpless whenever he sees you, but the only way he can express that is anger directed at you" he explained. You looked at him in wonder. All through this you hadn't wondered how Zoro might feel, but rather wondered why he was acting out at you.

Tears welled up yet again. Sanji looked at you in fearful concern.

"Hey hey, shhhhh you did nothing wrong. He should've told you, but he hasn't even been able to identify the emotions. He needs to find out for himself, or it won't be genuine when he does apologize to you."

You sniffed, stuttering out words around your sobs.

"B-but I-I should-d-d've known-n-n. I sh-should've thought! He's right! I-I'm path-thetic an-and ugly an-nd weak! How c-could he l-love s-s-some-one like me?"

Sanji soothed hair back from your face, tracing the curve of your eyebrow soothingly.

"Ah my dear. You are none of those things. How could you be? You are the exact opposite of pathetic and weak if you are on this crew, and you are beautiful enough to catch the eye of the stoic swordsman, as idiotic as he is. You protected someone you love, and yes, you lost part of you because of that, but you gained so much more. Our respect and love for you as our precious crewmate has only multiplied. We were brought face to face with what life without you would be like, and it only brought us sorrow. Please, my dear. You are incredible. Stunning. Strong. Trust me when I say he thinks the same."

You looked at him, lips parted with shock from his words.

"You promise?"

"I promise you that if he doesn't think that, then I will never cook for him again" he said, smiling gently. You sniffed.

"I... I don't know if I can... well..." you mumbled. Sanji caught onto what you were trying to say.

"Nobody is asking you or expecting you to forgive him for the things he said. Nobody is even asking you to love him the same way again, just to accept him as your fellow crewmate and friend. In fact, I think what he said was completely unforgivable with you in any state, let alone going through a time when you needed his affection." Anger colored his voice in the last sentence, but you knew he was right. It was unforgivable to you, at the very least right now. You sighed. All these emotions were making you crave something sweet.

As if he could read your mind, Sanji reached over to the plate he brought in earlier, and held up a piece of fruit to your lips with a smile. You took it, knowing that eventually, somehow and at some time, you would be okay.

[icypopz]

with an affectionate s/o ♡

↬ request from anon ; If your requests are open of course and if you could, I would like to request some hc with Artem and Vyn with a s/o that is very affectionate

↬ notes ; artem wing (zuo ran), vyn richter (mo yi) x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; the original ask was very detailed so i just put an excerpt of it above :) btw this is my first post for artem !! hehehe,,, also i rly need to kiss mo yi ok bye hope you enjoy <3

↬ warning(s) ; vyn's is microscopically suggestive at the end hahaha

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

[ artem wing / zuo ran ! ]

artem would definitely love having an affectionate partner. he's someone who values communication, and hearing you always remind him that you love him never fails to make his day, whether it's through text messages or verbally. whenever he receives a notification from you, a smile will always unintentionally curve his lips as he stares at the barrage of heart emojis and exclamation marks. celestine has caught him smiling at his screen multiple times now, and she never stops teasing him about it.

as for physical affection, artem is comfortable with it as long as it isn't at work. it's not that he doesn't want to show you off or he's embarrassed to date you, he's just shy and gets too embarrassed when you kiss him goodbye in front of his coworkers (it's mainly celestine's knowing smirk that he doesn't think he can face). at home or when you go out on dates, he adores it when you jump on him in an excited hug or pepper kisses all over his face. he especially loves having your hand in his as you both walk around stellis, it's so casual and subtle but artem secretly likes how it signifies to everyone around you that the two of you are dating.

if you ever get insecure about being so enthusiastic with your love, artem is quick to reassure you. he'll tell you that you're like sunshine to him, and he adores basking in the warmth of your care. he would pull you into a comforting hug, resting his chin on your head and caressing your hair as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves you. artem hopes you know that he loves you equally, if not more, despite not showing it as boldly as you.

more content utc !

[ vyn richter / mo yi ! ]

having a partner who's so genuine with their affection would come as a welcome shock to vyn. he's usually more restrained with his emotions, rarely letting his guard down even around you. ever since he was a kid, he's never met anyone who was so eager to love him like this, so it takes some time before he feels more comfortable with your enthusiasm. but once he's used to it, it's a welcome addition to all the things that he already adores about you.

vyn really appreciates the way you always tell him you love him. as a psychologist, he has a tendency to hyper-analyse everyone's behaviour, which includes you, and he sometimes manages to overthink himself into a spiral where he convinces himself you don't really love him (though he'd never voice it to you). at times like these, just seeing an "i love you, vyn!" text from you always chases away his negative thoughts, and he'll remind himself that you truly do care for him. he'll be sure to make your favourite desserts when you get home, but if you ask why he'll simply chuckle with an enigmatic smile and say he just felt like surprising you.

to be honest, vyn would totally one-up you in the physical affection department every time. he isn't shy to show that he loves you through touch, and when the two of you are relaxing at home, his hands are somehow always on you. resting on your waist, intertwining your fingers with his, sneaking under the hem of your shirt - vyn just loves how warm you are, and sometimes he can barely believe that you're there beside him, so the physical contact helps keep him grounded. if it makes you flustered, then that's a bonus! he also has zero shame when it comes to kissing you, and there definitely isn't a single place on your body that his lips haven't marked at least once. can you blame him though? vyn just wants to show his precious partner that he loves every single part of you.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[rainba]

ღ NSFW Alphabet - Kairos ღ

I finally got around to filling this it for him!! I hope I did this right. >_<

CW/tags: 18+, mentions of pee (non-sexually in the A category), slightly creepy behaviors from Kairos, mentions of Somnophilia, Kairos with a mild eating disorder (under the X category and nowhere else. B category might be mildly triggering under this topic too.)

MDNI.

GN reader!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kairos is overwhelmingly sappy right after sex. Every time the two of you finish and he collapses beside you, he’d definitely paint you with kisses while thanking you profusely. He’d also absolutely refuse to let you go, too– his arms clinging to your waist as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. It wouldn’t even matter if you needed to go to the bathroom, he’ll follow you right in there. (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

Side note: If you have a pussy, Kairos will definitely beg you to let him sit on your lap as you pee. If you have a dick, Kairos will beg you to let him hold it as you pee. o(>< )o

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For Kairos, his favorite body part of his partner’s would have to be their mouth/lips! After all, the lips are where he kisses you, it’s where your words come from, and– truthfully, Kairos kind of has a mild oral fixation.

He just thinks your lips are just so cute and enticing…! ( ˙꒳​˙ )

As for his favorite parts of himself– he honestly just likes his stomach area. He doesn’t really know why, but he has a strange fascination with running his fingers over his ribcage, poking at them and staring at it in a mirror. However, his favorite body part will change, depending on what you compliment him the most on.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

For many reasons, Kairos really likes to both taste cum and to cum inside your mouth. ^^;;;; He sees it as something extremely romantic! Like… You’re tasting him, consuming a part of him, part of him is (in some way) becoming a part of you! And when he tastes you, the same thing applies to him. It’s as if the two of you are merging, in a sense. ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝

Oh, also, he’s not above eating his own cum too. There will be times where he comes undone on your body then fervently licks it all up. ^^;;;;;;

After he's finished, he’ll probably tongue kiss you, pushing some of his cum into your mouth and making sure that you swallow both his spit and semen. Err… I hope you’re into that, in some way, because the idea of doing that sounds like a dream to him...! ( ´ ▿ ` )

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Kairos has so many dirty secrets, it’s impossible to name just one. 

His most obvious dirty secret would be that he’s snuck into your place multiple times– stealing lots of your clothing, both clean and dirty. Also, um… He may or may not have used your body to get himself off while you slept. ^^;;;;; 

He’s never been confident enough to actually fuck you as you slept or anything, though…! Kairos has only ever used your thighs and hands. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Poor Kairos has absolutely zero experience. Kissing? Nope. Romantic hand holding? Absolutely not. He hasn't even hugged anyone before! He's incredibly touch starved, before he meets you.

The only things he knows about sex (prior to being with you) is from porn and random threads he reads online. Sigh. ☆⌒(>。<)

So, when you first start having sex, expect him to be really messy and insecure the entire time! He’d be the type to get so excited about giving you his virginity that he cums before he can even get his boxers off. >_<

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Kairos’ favorite position would actually be something similar to missionary! He mostly just adores any position where he can see your face the entire time. Your expressions are one of his favorite things ever. (¯▿¯)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Kairos would be the type that tries so hard to be serious that it becomes goofy. (*^^*)♡

Sometimes he tries to say something that comes off as ‘domineering and sexy’, but he stutters on his words and his voice cracks. It just comes off as cute and pathetic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Kairos would try to shave, but honestly, he’s pretty bad at it. Plus, razors get really expensive…! So he just keeps his hair down there very short and trimmed. He honestly doesn’t grow much hair down there, anyway… Plus, his hairs are actually white. ^^;;;;;;; 

(I imagine his natural hair color is white, but he dyes half of it black.)

(ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᶦᵍᵍˡᶦⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶦᵈᵉᵃ ᵒᶠ ᴷᵃᶦʳᵒˢ ᵈʸᵉᶦⁿᵍ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵃᶦʳ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ, ᵗᵒᵒ.)

He'll shave completely for you, though, if you ask him to!!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Kairos is very romantic! During the moment, he wants the both of you to always feel really good, and he’ll make sure to ask how you’re doing throughout sex.

However, there will be times where he loses control over himself, and he can go a bit… Overboard while chasing his climax. ^^;;;; But he apologizes afterwards!

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

In the past, Kairos has definitely tried to make some DIY sex toys, but… They never really worked out for him. So, most of the time, he just uses his hands. >_< He always prefers to have his face buried in your clothes while he touches himself, taking in your scent that lingers on it. He also tries to find lewd 'x Listener' audios online and looks for people who have voices that sound like yours.

If… If he’s feeling particularly horny, the go-to clothing item that he buries his face in is your used underwear… ☆ｏ(＞＜；)○

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Kairos’ most prominent kinks are definitely somnophilia, face-fucking (both giving and receiving), knife play, praise, worshipping, etc. >_<

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It’s… A bit of a boring answer, but honestly, he just really likes the bed. It’s so soft and cozy, so warm and intimate! His bed is the perfect spot for it all to happen. If he has to give a second answer, he also likes having sex on his computer chair.

He’d absolutely love it if you rode his dick while he’s on his computer, or if you sneak underneath his desk and give him head while he tries to work or play games. ღ

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, just about anything turns him on when it comes to you.

Your skin is showing a bit? His face is now all red. You bend over or stretch in front of him? Now he’s thinking lewd thoughts. You whisper something dirty in his ear or mention something that even hints at the idea of sex? He’s sweating and rubbing his thighs together.

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There’s honestly not much that he would say no to. Whatever you want is ultimately what Kairos wants…! So, even if he seems mildly uncomfortable about something at first, he’ll grow to like it if you love it.

I think one thing he would say no to is being cucked or starting an open relationship. Honestly, suggesting those things to him would make him start crying on the spot. (っ´ω`)ﾉ(╥ω╥)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Kairos absolutely loves both giving and receiving. While he might not be very good at giving, he’d be so enthusiastic about it that it’s really endearing! Kairos would want to try all kinds of techniques and positions– both ways.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Kairos has a weird tendency to awkwardly shift back and forth between fast and slow, rough and sensual. In one second, he’ll be thrusting his hips like a wild animal, and in the next, he’ll be moving dreadfully slow.

There is usually a thought process behind this: he goes extremely fast when he’s not thinking straight, but when he feels himself about to cum, he’ll stop moving so quickly, just because he wants to keep fucking you for a little bit longer. ღ

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kairos doesn’t mind quickies– he likes them! But he prefers to take his time and be intimate with you. He adores lots of foreplay, and he also loves aftercare. (o^ ^o)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Kairos would definitely like to experiment and take risks. He finds the idea of experimenting to be really exciting, and he also believes that it’ll keep you attached to him, if the two of you are always trying new things.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Kairos’ stamina is… Not good. He gets tired really fast, since exercise is not his thing. But it never really stops him! He’ll keep fucking you until he physically collapses from exhaustion. ^^;;;;;;;;;

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

As much as Kairos would love to own a ton of toys, he can’t exactly afford any. ^^;;; As stated earlier, he has tried to make some DIY ones in the past, but they never really turned out too good.

However, if you buy some for him, he’ll be truly ecstatic to try them out! He’ll really push to use them on you, but also… Can… Can you use them on him? Please?

Strap a vibrator to his cock, or push one deep inside of his ass… Or do both.

Turn up the settings to the max as you overstimulate him for hours, leaving him a drooling mess while he helplessly squirms and mumbles out incoherent sentences. ( ´ ꒳ ` )

And… And can you do this to him while you cuddle and pet him? Please? And can you praise him too?

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kairos likes to tease a little bit, but his teasing isn’t very… Effective. He’s someone who’s much more used to being teased instead. >_<

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Kairos is, unintentionally, very loud. He moans, he whines, he whimpers, and he cries. He just can’t help it–! Being vocal for you is part of how he expresses his love!

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kairos has very sensitive nipples. ( ` ω ´ )

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) (cw: ED)

Kairos is… A little malnourished and pale, very slender. He hardly ever sees the sun, and he barely gets anything good to eat, if he can afford meals at all. Just lots of cheap sweets and cup ramen...

(Plus, there are times where he refuses to eat for days on end- simply because he believes he doesn't deserve to eat. Although, that doesn't happen very often.)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Always yearning… Always pining… You’re on his mind first thing in the morning, and you’re the last thing he thinks about right before he sleeps. If the two of you aren’t together, he masturbates to the thought of you at least once a day, and when you are together, he’ll want to have sex with you at least once a day as well. („• ᴗ •„)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kairos definitely falls asleep near-instantly. His stamina is pretty bad, so after having sex, he’ll be completely spent. And, honestly, the sleep he gets afterwards is the best sleep he ever gets. ღ

[moonbaby26]

Title: Proposal

(Chapter 16 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader

Chapter Warnings: language, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, angst

Chapter Synopsis: Still feeling pressure from both real and perceived enemies abroad, Doflamingo gives into his insecurities and chooses to take your and his relationship public at last.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17

——————————

—————————— 

For as wealthy of a country as Dressrosa was supposedly becoming, shade clearly wasn’t something they’d yet found important enough for including in colosseum upgrades.

You’d had no choice but to fully cover up in layers of clothing today to hide your many injuries. But no matter how you sat now, legs crossed or not, marine coat unbuttoned or not, there was zero breeze and you were getting hot beneath that persistent sun.

Having this tall, pink bird radiating his additional body heat as he insisted on staying hip to hip with you in the booth was not helping either of course.

Feathers grazed against you as you took yet another drink of the iced juice his servants had offered. But you really wanted to put that cold glass against the side of your face. You would have too if the damn cameras hadn’t kept checking back in at the worst times while the sounds of more weapons clashing carried up from below. 

But it really was like some higher power just kept kicking you again when you were already down. 

Because the juice was pulpy, and overly sweet for your tastes. Something Doflamingo had said was his preference when he’d seen you choose it earlier. So you should have blamed him. When on that final sip something harder in the pulp had caught right in the back of your throat.

Debris that was perfectly sized, too small to force down with additional swallowing. But just big enough to trigger a coughing fit as you left your now empty glass on the ledge of the booth.

You grabbed Doflamingo’s drink next. Some rich, dark beer you’d never heard of. Something you were not supposed to be drinking on duty anyway as you suddenly downed it like it was a late night, after hours in Marineford instead.

“Shit.” You still coughed several more times, but feeling that piece finally dislodge in the rush of alcohol. 

“Well...I can’t say I’ve ever seen someone try to drown themselves with pomegranate juice before.” His mocking tone accompanied the stare you’d obviously now earned. “Did you forget the difference between breathing and drinking for a moment there, marine?”

And you glared up at him, everything only made worse when you saw that condescending expression on his face.

“Seeds got caught in my throat, you jerk. If you wanted your juice that damn thick, you should have just stuck a straw in a raw fruit for gods’ sake!”

But you saw the weird way Doflamingo paused. And then abruptly, the way the muscles in his brow shifted to give away that his smile had now spread to his concealed eyes.

“You swallowed the seeds then?”

“Well yes.” But such a simple question was far more off putting when he was now looking at you like that. “Should I have spit them out onto you instead?” You tried to fuss back, flustered really of what could possibly be going through that mess of his mind now.

“They don’t teach much literature in those naval classes do they?” He just answered with a question of his own, still looking inexplicably amused. “Just books on a thousand ways to tie ropes and how to properly mop decks then?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” You retorted, even still coughing an additional time then.

“I have an entire library back at the palace you know.” He said, even as he made a gesture with his hand to summon another drink tray. “I think I’ll pick out some books on this for you tomorrow. You’ll need something to do anyway while I’m back in meetings. I’d hate for you to be too bored and lonely, just pining for my return all day.”

Of course his taunting tone said otherwise. He’d love you to have nothing better to do than just lay around for hours waiting for him to climb back on top of you, you were sure.

“Go to hell.” You huffed, albeit still gladly taking a water this time as the servants were back before you both then.

“Already there, darling.” He quipped, still grinning as he grabbed another beer from their tray in replacement of the one you’d just demolished for him.

“And we have our first knockout of the competition!” The announcer’s voice boomed with excitement as you and Doflamingo finally looked away from one another and to the scene below then.

You’d already learned that everything was so over the top in this place, bordering on barbaric honestly.

But you’d done your best to reserve your judgement every time the crowd’s energy had surged when new wounds were opened up or bones were broken in the colosseum battles. 

Because it might just be the culture here. Every island had its own traditions, its own history within reason.

Yet when the winner of this latest match began approaching his now unconscious opponent, spear angling further downward to take new aim, you nearly stood.

That was finally well beyond reason to you.

“He’s already down!” You said to the warlord. Your hand had closed on Doflamingo’s forearm in reflex.

And the fresh cruelty budding in that pirate’s smile while he looked from your hand now gripped onto his arm, and then back to your concerned face made you pause all over again. 

“Oh, dear woman…a good bloodletting gets these animals excited like the hateful things they really are. Are you going to deny them this release?”

“There are children here.” You managed to retort. But the fresh tinge of disgust was obvious in your eyes. 

These were people, not things.

Doflamingo still chuckled, like a mix of false sympathy and real distaste as his own hand abruptly rose above you. “And you are far too predictable, love. You’ll owe me again for this one.”

And the previous roar of the crowd quieted in the resulting confusion.

Only with the snail cameras then zooming in were you able to see that true result on the screen. Your surprise matching the other spectators as what now looked like a spider’s web had materialized from nowhere to block the kill shot.

The aggressor’s spear now hung in midair from where it’d been thrown. Its sharp metal tip pressed into that web, unable to penetrate past it and cross just those few inches that remained to the target’s throat.

“And…and I can’t believe it, ladies and gentlemen!” The announcer exclaimed again. “His majesty has interceded into the fight! Sire!? Would you like to address the crowd!?”

Some woman in gladiator attire was then at the booth before you knew it. She appeared to be part of the colosseum workers as she bowed in respect all the while offering Doflamingo a microphone.

You heard the warlord laugh quietly, speaking just to you before that microphone was in range to pick his voice up.

“See the trouble you’ve started?” He chided.

And yet he still took that microphone from her as if this was also second nature to him. No hesitation at all as he relaxed further back into the stone seating beside you.

His arm went tight around your shoulders to keep you in that resulting camera shot with him as well.

“I’m only being a hospitable host, Gatz.” Doflamingo’s best charismatic tone now echoed through the colosseum as he addressed the announcer by name. The whole venue was now silent except for their king. 

“The captain here isn’t yet acclimated to the normal rules our gladiators live and die by. Just now, she expressed an interest to me in seeing even this loser have an opportunity to fight another day. Because she believes adversity can sometimes lead to improvement, even within the weak.” 

He gave a slight sneer then, but remained relatively calm. “I disagree of course. However, I promised her we could try things her way just for today. So not only will there be no executions during today’s events…”

And he did pause briefly there, anticipating the crowd’s palpable shock. But he knew just when to continue as well, keeping them enraptured as he then dropped the next apparent change.

“But also, at the conclusion of today’s competition, the captain will also be granted one pick from all current participants to grant a full royal pardon to. And that gladiator will walk free from the colosseum this very evening, by her grace alone.” 

You hadn’t known a thing about this of course. But your instincts were quick to believe it wasn’t at all an improvisation.

He’d planned this.

He’d known exactly how you were going to react as the battles worsened, and you’d played right into it.

And now he was doing his favorite trick again because of that. Controlling you at the exchange of human lives. 

In Mariejois you’d submitted to him under the implication of him harming both yourself and your crew if you’d revealed him as Joker.

In Sabaody, he’d freed slaves from his own auction house in exchange for your promising to soon meet him again.

And in Scylla, he’d demanded your fidelity and made you promise to always return to him. Otherwise the life lost would clearly be your own. 

“So I’d advise our competitors to do their best to impress her. She’s got very high standards after all.” Doflamingo still added, briefly smirking down at you.

He was complimenting himself of course there, implying that he was already one of your so called “high standard” choices.

With so much amusement, this man could make an instant game out of people’s lives and freedom. All the while still having the gall to stroke his own ego right on top of it. 

————————— 

And just those few hours later, he was already refusing to help you at all in this dilemma he’d so gladly created.

“Just fucking pick one.” Doflamingo drawled, sounding bored by then as Gatz was still talking over you both across the stadium speakers. The battles were done at last, the competitors reentering the arena one by one as the announcer reintroduced them to go through the final motions.

The sun was just beginning to set. Something you couldn’t even appreciate as the sky began changing to vibrant hues of pink and red.

Because you didn’t have an answer yet.

“That isn’t fair to them.” You insisted. “It can’t just be random.”

The warlord’s lips upturned a little, yet another beer still in his hand. “Then be lazy and let the crowd choose for you. I don’t care. Just hurry up. My ass is falling asleep. I’m tired of sitting here.”

“This whole production was your idea, you dick!”

“Yeah well, the fights take that much longer when they can’t just kill one another. It’s still your fault this had to be so drawn out.”

You made a dissatisfied sound in your irritation. He wanted you to just pick whoever the crowd had seemed most fanatic about. But you weren’t feeling that. Because they had cheered loudest for only the most violent participants.

Which seemed like a terrible criteria for choosing the person who was about to be released back into society.

Yet you could feel that Gatz was about to direct the cameras back to the royal booth at any moment.

Fuck. You were just going to have to go with your instincts. You didn’t have any information on each prisoner’s actual crimes to do any better with this.

“The tall guy with the tattoo and the ponytail.” You said quickly to Doflamingo then. 

The fighter you now referenced was one of the first to have come back into the stadium in this final showing, and you’d already forgotten what Gatz had called him.

But Doflamingo did sit up a little more then, looking down at them all to see who you meant. Yet you saw his smirk fade once his gaze found the only man that matched your description. 

“Fine. A deal’s a deal.”

And with almost a huff, the warlord made a sudden gesture with his hand. You’d known the executives were close by. Yet it’d still surprised you when Diamante was abruptly leaning in behind you both at that nonverbal summons.

“Yes, Doffy?” That creep of a man asked, far too close for your comfort.

“Diamante, remind me. What’s that fucker’s name? The one with the ink nearly on his cock. She likes him apparently.” Doflamingo grumbled, his fingers tightening on your side as his arm had moved back around your waist.

And you had to stare at the pirate when he gave this new description.

Because yes, that prisoner was shirtless and had a lower abdominal tattoo. With the bottom of that image partly obscured by the belt line of his loincloth.

But for all that was holy, did Doflamingo actually have a hint of jealousy in his voice again now? As if physical appearance had anything to do with your pick?

Diamante did answer easily with the name though. “He was one of Riku’s army captains.” He also added after with evident distaste.

“Wait…what?” you tried to interrupt at that. Because your true, only reason for choosing that particular gladiator was that in all the fighters you’d watched, he’d shown the most restraint.

Someone with real self control that you’d hoped would be the least likely to threaten an average citizen once freed.

But if they were now saying that he was part of the previous regime that had slaughtered those very same citizens under Riku’s command, then these two things just didn’t add up to you.

Could your instinct be that wrong?

“Does that mean he participated in Riku’s attack?” You asked seriously, butting in again.

“Of course he did. But I told you to pick someone the crowd liked. You wouldn’t do it. This is on you.” Doflamingo sneered a little at that, still confirming your choice regardless. “That’s the one you’re letting go, Diamante. Go tell Gatz. And remind him of my announcement too.”

“Yes, Doffy.” Diamante didn’t argue, though he also looked displeased with you before he was gone again soon enough.

And you must have had an expression of further concern on your own face, worrying over the possible ramifications of this as you heard Doflamingo finally chuckle again.

As if he couldn’t stay irritable with you when you were just this pathetic.

“Poor thing. Not easy making these decisions, is it?” He asked you. He was now rubbing your side with that large hand. “Don’t worry, we’re almost done here. And then I’ll be all yours again.”

———————————

Gatz had loudly announced your choice of who to pardon, and as expected the crowd had given a mixed reaction at best.

Their resentment to anyone associated with Riku’s former regime was still so visceral. A joke that just kept on giving as Doflamingo couldn’t help but gloat a bit. 

Because they were all so fucking gullible. In that prisoner, they only saw someone who had once ravaged their own people without hesitation. 

But you, a woman who had been here at the colosseum all of a single afternoon, had already seen straight through this. You’d zeroed in on likely the least corrupted in all of the current choices and picked accordingly.

It was impressive really. Highly annoying to him, but impressive none the less. 

And Doflamingo had rolled his eyes behind his glasses when that now former prisoner did fall to his knees in the arena at the news of his unexpected freedom.

The idiot was actually crying by then, crying about soon being reunited with his family and thanking you over and over. While Gatz was playing the storyline up all the more, waxing poetic about your supposed indiscriminate mercy and unique capacity for forgiveness as you looked entirely uncomfortable in the whole situation.

But Doflamingo knew it would still work out in the long run. A single, former Riku loyalist back on the loose was no concern to him after all. Because this was perfect bait for others to follow.

Your kindness could soon become like a goddamn siren call to flush out his enemies.

His irresistible siren.

That wasn’t an inaccurate metaphor really.

And as Gatz gradually finished up, Doflamingo was now taking slightly deeper breaths himself without willing it. 

His muscles were tensing and releasing again as he downed the rest of his current beer.

The real show was finally at hand. What he’d been waiting for all afternoon.

And that actual tinge of nervousness was still foreign to him as his hand had returned to his pants’ pocket, fingers tightening around that ring.

“And before the official conclusion of today’s events, it has been commanded that all you good people of Dressrosa please remain seated! As his royal highness, king Donquixote Doflamingo has an announcement to make!”

And their king did stand then, postured at his full height as the snail cameras had to zoom out to then keep you both in frame on the stadium’s screen.

You were sitting properly again for the cameras of course, with your back straight and your eyes cautiously on him. His disciplined marine once more.

Because you did know how to play this part of the game, whether you could yet admit it or not. The falsehood of putting on a strong front.

Another colosseum worker had scurried over then, presenting Doflamingo with a microphone again. He took it to hold in one of his hands, your ring hooked with his fingertip by the other hand still in his pocket.

“Citizens of Dressrosa…” Doflamingo’s smooth voice filled the stadium as all else quieted once more. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the festivities today. And I’m glad everyone could be here this evening on such short notice. As I do have a confession to make that concerns us all.” And his grin widened further in the dark humor of that implication. 

Because there were a thousand crimes that would have lit this place up in an instant if he had divulged even a single one of them.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you.” His heart was beginning to pound regardless. 

But he liked it.

He liked the thrill in this risk versus reward.

He had waited so long for this.

“But that secrecy has been for a very good reason. Because the media would have spun this out of control as they’ve already tried to do. So much so that the very peace and stability of this island may have been threatened.”

He was still smiling, letting the lies begin to flow easier and easier from his wicked mouth. 

“And I knew I owed it to you, the loyal denizens of this country to be the first to hear it direct from me when the time was right. To tell you of the choice I’ve made which will affect all our futures.”

And now he did see you, in the peripheral vision of his good eye as you started to look more stressed. That flicker of panic beginning behind those lovely eyes of yours.

You really were a smart girl where it mattered. Thankfully so, as he’d have tolerated little else in the long run. 

He glanced down to you, turning his head to do so. He was making his attention on you undeniable again for those cameras.

“You see, contrary to prior reports, this woman is far from a recent acquaintance to me.”

If everyone was to know, then of course he would put his own spin on the narrative. He could rewrite this as easily as Morgans could.

Doflamingo would make it what he wanted it to be. Not what it really was.

“The captain here is a distinguished marine, yes. Which unfortunately, put us briefly on opposing sides some years ago.”

Oh, the way he knew he was already sanitizing this. As if talking about only a sporting like competition between the two of you then, rather than a trading of blood, bullets, and the warships that’d been out for his hide.

“But as we all know, through my own merit and perseverance, I also rose so quickly to be recognized for what I really was.”

And goddamn, it was actually fun to say this with almost a straight face. “No longer just a pirate, but a guardian of this world. One of the seven warlords, standing now beside her marines as a crucial pillar in the balance of powers on behalf of our world government.”

He was acting as if you two were truly the same, as if you always had been. That you were the self-sacrificing defenders of all these wretches now hanging on his every word.

And your hands were clenching against the top of your skirt in your lap again. 

It was all utter bullshit and you knew it.

His grin widened.

“But I always desired her.”

An actual truth abruptly there.

He saw your lips part slightly. A sudden gun to your head likely would have provoked less surprise now in your eyes.

“So the very moment that ink was dry on my government contract, when my name was rightfully cleared and my honor restored, I called on this woman of course.” 

His fingers were anxiously turning that ring in his pocket now.

“And we’ve been together ever since. In secret to protect her career from all the close minded fools who may still not accept this truth of our shared feelings.”

A sound went through the crowd of course, that mix of true surprise and excitement.

It was every trope he could throw into this. The star crossed lovers, the lonely heroes, the redeemed king pining for his mate that should be untouchable by the prior blood on his hands.

But he still wasn’t done. Because Doflamingo always wanted it all. And he refused to share you even with the ghosts of your past.

“We even went so far as to fabricate other brief relationships to throw the public off of our scent. Just peers of ours who were willing to let their names be tossed into the rumor mill here and there in order to protect us.”

Kuzan, Crocodile, Smoker…fuck them all. They’d had their chances and burned you both. They weren’t going to get any secondary fame any longer because of it.

This was his spotlight now.

“But after three years together…” He was counting from the day he became a warlord of course. At least giving you that sliver of mercy to imply the fucking hadn’t started until he had immunity from prosecution. When he was no longer legally a criminal at least.

When in reality, your very first physical time together had been closer to only three months ago. That day in Mariejois when he’d first closed his hand around your throat and then pounded his raw cock into you for all he was worth not long after. A whole new euphoria he would never forget that initial dose of. 

“We’re not going to hide this any longer.”

His chest tightened as he felt that tangible flare of your haki. But he doubted you would dare strike him here. Not in front of everyone at least.

Doflamingo smiled. 

Didn’t you know that fire inside only made him want you all the more?

“And this country will become even safer under her and my dual protection. We will have a marine port of call established here, just as we implied in Scylla. Dressrosa will be the new home for both her subordinates, as well as the roots for our future royal family.”

The cameras were flashing like lightning, the crowd’s roar the resulting thunder as he finally slid that ring from his pocket.

Your whole identity, your career, and your freedom was likely burning right before you as he saw your eyes look at that jeweled band in the fading sunlight.

A large diamond was in its center, rising above smaller rubies framing it as if they were droplets of blood. Their red reflection casting almost a pink hue across that larger faceted stone.

Like the diamond itself was a survivor rising from the blood of the battlefield.

There’d been no other choice in his mind as soon as he’d seen this ring. He’d known it was perfect.

Like you.

“Marry me.” And Doflamingo’s dark voice said those two words so simply. Firmly for all to hear across the speakers as he held that ring between the two of you.

There was no intonation of a question in that command, but he did not reach for you either to force your hand.

He was still standing, looking down at you. You were seated, so still in the silence that had consumed the colosseum once more as his subjects awaited your answer.

He would not kneel of course. Only in the privacy of the bedroom and within the throws of full passion would he ever do that for you.

No, here in front of all these nameless fleas, it was up to you to rise to meet him. To be worthy of this honor as he loomed above you.

And he did see you take a deep breath. Your haki had stabilized again at last, quieting in tandem to your careful body language as you did stand to your feet.

You held your head up, a forced grace that still didn’t match the sharp look in your eyes. You were staring into those red sunglasses of his in a way that made his stomach tighten.

Like a lioness on a too thin chain.

It could still all go wrong. Because your desire was unclear and wavering. You couldn’t win, but he knew that you could hurt him.

Did you want to hurt him?

His armament was ready. His heart was pounding.

And then you exhaled.

You raised your left hand up from your side, holding it out flat before him.

“Yes.”

Doflamingo did blink behind his glasses at such a small, yet life changing word. The surrender from you that was all it took to launch the crowd into an explosion of hysterics and roaring cheers as he did slip that ring onto your waiting finger.

Their new noise shook the stadium louder than anytime he’d ever heard before as he watched you with some amazement.

He’d abandoned the microphone now, tossed away for someone else to catch or not. He didn’t care.

He didn’t see anything but you in this moment as he squatted slightly, leaning down as well. Whatever he needed to do to catch you by the lips as he’d tilted your head back when the urge overcame him. His grip then so tight beneath your jaw.

And if you really had blasted him with every ounce of haki you possessed in that moment, he still would not have stopped. His mouth was back over yours, fully greedy and exhilarated.

It was now the kiss of victory for all to see as the crowd continued to scream and the cameras flashed.

—————————— 

“Do you want to answer any of their questions?” Doflamingo breathed against your ear. His taste was still fully in your mouth by the time he’d released your lips again. That kiss had been so rough and you could tell he still wanted more, much more.

But you were having trouble catching your breath. The noise, the camera flashes, and the remaining heat you’d endured for hours now were all culminating into this oppressive crush down upon you.

You really couldn’t breathe. Your pulse was racing. “No.” It was nearly a plea. “I want to go.” You said against his open shirt. 

And for that single moment at least he did listen to you. He heeded you immediately.

You heard him call out to Trebol. The closest executive then to you both, that snotty piece of shit that you still refused to even look at.

“We’re heading somewhere quieter!” Doflamingo still had to be loud to be heard above the crowd. “Call me when they’re ready at the palace!”

“Will do, Doffy!”

And that was it. No other warning except for the way Doflamingo’s arms encircled you even tighter before your organs felt like they were being ripped down into your feet.

The ground was gone. The only noise then the air rushing past your ears as you closed your eyes in reflex to that sudden blast.

Any exposed skin you had now registered the temperature change as well. Everything around you abruptly cold and drier then as all went silent once the movement had stopped again.

You could feel your legs hanging freely now. Your arms moved up to slide tightly around Doflamingo’s neck as you dared to take another breath.

“Fuck…” You panted quietly, your eyes opening again even as you refused to look fully down just yet.

“Yes. The air is a good deal thinner up here. But it’s private. Silent. The birds don’t even come this high.” 

And your wholly unorthodox method of transportation was now breathing deeper himself to adjust. His bare chest still so warm against you in contrast to the ever growing darkness, and the creeping cold which accompanied it.

The sun would soon be slipping completely below that far off horizon. The ocean mainly all you could still see. The island of Dressrosa was now just a small circle within it, the lights of the towns nothing bigger than fireflies at this distance.

“I meant…that I wanted to go back to the palace.” You at last responded, trying to regather yourself.

“And miss this view from heaven?” He taunted you still.

But as his grip on you started to loosen, your natural fear only began to rise. Your body knew it did not belong up here, literally now just an arm’s reach from the bottom edges of the clouds his strings were somehow suspending him from. 

This was the very reason mother ocean detested unnatural talents such as his.

“Doffy...” You tried again, still unable to calm your now racing heart.

“Don’t tell me I’ve finally found something that my woman is actually afraid of?” And that grin of his was so infuriatingly smug. 

“You know this isn’t…at least this isn’t the only reason I’m having a…I don’t even know what I’m having.”

A meltdown? Another panic attack? A complete shattering of everything you’d ever been and had worked so desperately to achieve?

“Why didn’t you at least warn me that you were going to do it this way!?” Your voice finally broke then as you looked to his face again.

His smile was fading. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“You lied and told everyone we’ve been together this whole time!”

This was not how it was supposed to be.

And he was just watching you as if this was of no consequence while you went on.

“You just told the entire world that I have been going behind my commander’s back for fucking years, Doflamingo. And that everyone who knew about me and Kuzan or me and Smoker can now call me a cheating bitch…when I’m not, none of that is true!”

And you saw his brow change as soon as their names were mentioned. You knew he was beginning to glare at you from behind those crimson lenses.

“By all means, let’s talk about your other men and their feelings on this while I dangle you a few thousand feet above sea level. That sounds reasonable to me.” He sneered at you.

His hands had closed around your wrists. He was pulling your arms away from his neck now. Your body was starting to slip.

A clear threat, but you knew he was somewhat bluffing. He wouldn’t kill you outright, not tonight at least. Not right after a display like that at the colosseum. He had to keep this farce going in front of the public in the short term at least, lest he be the one to look like a fool.

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish you if you kept going.

You were sure he could let you fall as many times as he wanted. Then catch you at the last moment just to do it all over again.

And he would absolutely be that cruel if you instigated this further.

But you were also so angry, that you truly didn’t care any longer.

“Then do it.” Your voice broke again. “If you’re really that goddamn hateful! Have your laugh and torture me like you would anyone else. I’m tired of trying to make you understand what you clearly don’t want to!”

You saw him pause as your voice rose further at him. Though he was now holding you by only one wrist as you watched him defiantly, waiting for the drop.

You knew his pride wouldn’t allow any other response. You knew that he was going to do it. That he would think he had to do it.

His only hesitation may be in his disbelief that you were actually choosing this. 

That was the only thing you could assume as a grunt came from that man’s throat instead of a laugh. There was no smile. It only looked like an involuntary twitch of stress pulling the corner of his mouth further down. 

An expression of actual misery just before his hand snapped open and you plummeted.

The fucking idiot.

And you didn’t scream. Somehow you forced yourself not to. Your eyes closed tightly as you crossed your arms over your chest and put your ankles together beneath you.

This was the safest way you might dive feet first into the ocean from the highest rigging overhanging the water off of a ship. 

You had to pretend that’s all this was. 

From this height a body would be nothing but a splat of blood and viscera though. Something unrecognizable if you made it that far. 

The timing was so hard to tell with your eyes closed though. 

Just that terrible feeling and the wind rushing past your ears again as the back of your coat fluttered up behind you.

It probably wouldn’t have even hurt. Death like that would have been instant.

What did hurt was the abrupt deceleration. Only then had you gasped, the pain sudden as your body stopped but your insides didn’t. 

Your eyes opened as you clutched at your torso, feeling like things had actually tried to rip inside. Things that never should have moved at all as you twisted in his new strings.

Even through your harsh breathing you could now hear the sea. And your eyes widened when you realized how close it really all was. You could see the waves, breaking gently in the night’s breeze.

A secluded beach was just beneath you. Outside of that rocky ring of cliff face that surrounded most of Dressrosa.

And then the strings had moved again. You were jerked down before being dumped right into that warm sand.

You stumbled, falling onto your knees. But you were still holding your body just below your breasts.

You were too mad to cry by then. You just moved to sit in that sand, not even looking up as those long black shoes met the beach not long after and already began approaching you.

“I guess I forget that I string my insides as well to absorb that shock without thinking.” His tone was cold, almost monotone now. “And you can’t.”

You bit your own lip, refusing to look up at him yet. 

And in all of it. In everything he’d just said and done this evening, what you still hated more than anything was how your heart felt like it was going to twist itself in two.

And that had nothing to do with the fall.

“Doffy…” You said his name in continued irritation, but with grief beginning to show fully on your face.

Even out of your peripheral vision you saw him straighten up at that single word.

“Do you know what’s the single thing holding me back from loving a man like you?”

What a loaded and entirely dangerous question that was. But you gave him no time to respond. You were yelling at this fucking monster next as you glared back up at him, grief and frustration bursting back out all together then.

“It’s only self preservation! Not self respect, not being a marine, not Tsuru, not Kuzan, not even your fucking crimes! I just want to be able to fucking trust you! For one goddamn day for you to not be a complete nightmare! I don’t understand…you say you goddamn want me. You beg me to stay, to say that I love you. And yet you still treat me like this, every single day. Nearly every day you find a new way to hurt me! I can’t do it. I’m not unbreakable. You’re going to kill me eventually! So why not just do it and be done!?”

He stared at you, silent for several moments. But you could see that blood vessel rising on his forehead.

“Why did you say yes to me so easily then?” His voice was so different there, so strained when it finally came.

And you didn’t hesitate to respond to that, regardless of the rising danger once more. “The easy answer? I didn’t want you to have a tantrum and start slicing through people of course!” 

But you still scoffed, not stopping there either. “But the truth? I don’t want to be alone either, you asshole! And I know that no one else is ever going to stay with me for long. Because there is something very wrong with me. Something that only you aren’t afraid of. I don’t know why! But it’s a goddamn curse!”

You heard a low growl from him then even as those waves still moved rhythmically in and out along the shore.

“It’s not my fault.” 

He said this so suddenly, so oddly, that you just had to stare at him as you watched his fist clench at his side.

“The way I treat you…it isn’t my fault!” He hissed at you as you felt that return glare from behind the glasses. His frustration breaking loudly at last. “You drive me fucking crazy! If you would just obey! If you would listen!”

You started to snap back at him. “I’m not your fucking slave! I-“

And he cut you off so quickly. “I don’t care about that! I don’t want you to die! Don’t you understand!? You’re the only one that makes me feel wanted, desired. It’s not transactional, it’s not fucking fake.” He was gritting his teeth, like he couldn’t explain this in the correct words. Like the correct words didn’t exist.

You gestured in exasperation, disbelieving, but knowing this was all the worse if true. “Then you have to work harder! You’re the only one who can protect me from you. If I die, it’s going to be because of you! Don’t you see that!?”

“Then help me!” He yelled right back at you, teeth bared and voice desperate.

This was two insane people now screaming at one another on what should have been a romantic, private beach just after sunset.

And you with a beautiful new engagement ring sparkling on your finger in the starlight all the while.

That finger which now clenched with your others into a fist against your hip. The anger just too much to possibly maintain.

“Fuck, I need alcohol.” You breathed, feeling like you could have punched a hole into a mountain right now if you’d really tried. 

But you didn’t want to. And you sensed Doflamingo still all bristled up a few steps away as you told him as much. “I’m not fighting you.”

You did see his shoulders lower slightly, but that blood vessel in his forehead was still pulsing away.

“We’re getting married tonight regardless.” Doflamingo exhaled next, beginning to pace. “I’m not backing down. You’re signing those papers as soon as they’re ready at the palace. Trebol will call when the official arrives to bear witness.”

“And why does it have to be tonight?” You asked more tiredly then. Nothing was really going to surprise you any longer. You had met your limit for today.

“Because I don’t trust anyone either. When my stunt at the colosseum hits the newspapers tomorrow, someone’s going to try and stop us. I know they are. So you’ll smile, you’ll sign every goddamn paper I put in front of you, and it will all be faxed to Mariejois tonight. By morning you’ll already be Mrs. Donquixote and everyone else can go fuck themselves.”

“How romantic.” You answered, your chin now resting on your knees that were pulled up to your chest as you remained sitting in the sand.

And at last it was quiet then. Just the calm of the waves for a while. 

Doflamingo had finally stopped pacing, standing there with his hands in his pockets watching the horizon.

For several minutes he remained there, lost in his own thoughts about who knew what before he turned to look at you again.

You heard him sigh, something he didn’t do very often as those long legs eventually carried him back over.

You didn’t fully tense as his ass suddenly met the sand to plop down near you. But you raised your head cautiously to acknowledge him.

“It’ll get better.” He said, almost quietly then to your surprise. 

And all of the sudden your legs were moving on their own. You hadn’t even felt him attach a string to your spine this time.

But you frowned as they stretched out on their own accord. You could only wonder what he was planning now before he laid down abruptly, not caring about the sand on his clothes at all apparently. 

His head was then resting in your newly available lap that he had just provided for himself by moving your legs.

He shifted his fingers again after as well, still controlling you to make yours go into his hair next as he used his own free hand to remove his sunglasses.

You saw the genuinely tired look in his eyes then as he looked up at you while you were forced to gently stroke his scalp. “I do want you to love me.” He breathed, his eyes remaining on yours.

“I know.” You answered. Not arguing any longer, and not bothering to demand him to release you. 

“Just don’t give up on me yet.” He said, his eyes going more half lidded as he let your hand stop petting him. He turned his face, so gently kissing your hand then instead. “Because I already love you.” He added.

And you inhaled quietly. It pulled at you every damn time he said it. “I think…that maybe you want to.”

“If we don’t yet, then we’ll learn how to.” He promised you at that, not actually disagreeing. And he turned onto his side then, briefly closing his eyes with his head still comfortably in your lap.

“We’ll love each other.” Doflamingo said, reinforcing this just loud enough for you to hear over the continued waves. “We’ll have to, because no one else ever will.”

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[purpleyoonn]

baby (you complete us) 1

C H A P T E R   O N E

Summary: Soulmates were a common occurrence, so common, in fact, that the world sought an easier way to find your other half: A bracelet that would scan your mark and match you with those who shared your mark. Within recent years, soul groups were becoming normal, and your own bracelet said you have seven matches.

Or where you wear your bracelet for ten years, and finally give up the hope you would find your soul group, only for BTS to put theirs on and see what they were missing.

Genre: soulmate au, idol au, angst, fluff, eventual smut,

Pairing: Idol BTS x Disabled MC

Warnings: angst, mentions of depression, disabled mc (Ehlers Danlos syndrome), eventual smut, fluff, lots of fluff, mentions of disability, simp bangtan

Chapter Warnings: drunk mc, drunk messaging, mentions of depression, insecurities, parental death, disability diagnosis, negative thoughts, 

masterlist // chapter 2

taglist: @imnotlauriane  @mageprincess7 @m1sss1mp @0funsite0  @strawberry-moonpies @this-isthe-way @singukieee @btsw1fe @gooooomz  @fluffy-canada-pancakes @carolinexkpop @agusfree @sakurarukas @iamkookiesforyou @skyys-universe @toughbook @plutoneu @whisperssuga @welcometomyworld13 @yuzon3 @wittyreader @jnghs @cyd0129 @exfolitae @queen-in-the-shadows @nen-nyy @pandxthings @schniti-is-in-the-house @juju-227592 @jinseartharmysmoon @wooya1224 @ddaeng-angmoh @gratefullygrateful @rorythme​ 

permanent taglist: @yourleftsock​ @cryingpages​ @strxwbloody​  @drissteele​ @dustyinkpages​ @crushedblackroses​  @blaaiissee​  @iiitsmaria​  @azazel-nyx​  @g-h-o-s-t-b-a-b-i​ @knjkitten​ @kleirielk​ @foreverweareyoung7​ @lachimolala22019​ @namuficxs​ @94z-93​ @kimgmzmc​ @thenaverse​ 

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

Every morning for the past ten years, the first thing you did was open the Soul app. Each morning you hoped and wished to see a notification on the upper right corner of the app on your screen. And each morning you were once again left disappointed with the zero notifications.  Each of your friends had already found theirs, had met up with them and felt the bond cement within their souls.

You couldn’t help but to grow envious and jealous of their happiness, even now, as you watch your closest friends pledge their lives and souls to each other. You were a bridesmaid, right behind her own sister, the maid of honor. You were like a sister to Anna, having grown up with her and her family. But you never felt so out of place, like you didn’t belong as you stood there.

You were beyond happy for Anna and Chris, love in your heart for them as you witness their love for each other. But you couldn’t help but to feel your own heart break at the sight.

Your soulmates didn’t want you; it was the only conclusion you could think of. Ten years, ten years of knowing that you have seven soulmates out there.

Your bracelet made the distinction of telling you that your soulmates already knew each other. Maybe it shouldn’t have. It left you feeling the way you do now, believing that they don’t want you.

And maybe you couldn’t blame them.

For every day, over the past ten years, since you first put on the gift from your parents, you had messaged your soulmates, introducing yourself, letting them know how your day went. Everything and anything you could think of. But once your mother passed away, you slowly started to taper off your messages.

The feeling of being alone had started to sink in.

You had family come in, say their condolences, and leave after a while. Even people you didn’t know were coming in to say their part, but nothing from your soulmates. You never once saw a ‘read’ notification underneath a message.

Then, not even a month after your mother’s passing, you were diagnosed with Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, a genetic connective tissue disorder that affects your entire body. You were diagnosed after your sister took you to the doctors, her concern for your hips and knees becoming too much after seeing you need a cane for walking assistance. The diagnosis took weeks of medical history research and a physical examination.

Apparently popping your wrists in and out of place isn’t as much of a party trick as you thought it was.

After that, you just sort of stopped the messages, only really messaging when you had no one else to talk to. You figured, if they aren’t going to read it, then why not use it as a sort of diary, writing the things you knew you couldn’t tell others.

Today, however, would be the last time you messaged them. You had decided mid ceremony that you weren’t going to continue wearing your bracelet. It was just becoming a reminder of how much your life was not going the way you wanted.

“Thank you so much for being here with me!” Anna spoke to you, wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. She had pulled you aside after bridal party pictures. You were having a good day, not needing your cane but having it sat by your assigned seat just in case. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be in the wedding when she asked you, but knowing how happy she was, you said yes.

“I’m glad I got to be a part of your special day.” You smiled back, hoping she didn’t see the small sadness in your eyes. Anna nodded in response; just glad you were happy. She knew how hard your life had been in the past couple years, and she loved seeing the smile on your face whenever it happened. She wanted you to be happy always, never having to feel pain again.

“I can’t wait until you get to marry your soulmates. I will be right here for you, doing everything I can to make your day just as special.” She hugged you again before being called away for more pictures of the family, the bridesmaids and groomsmen being dismissed. While you smiled at your friend, you could feel the tears building.

You wouldn’t get that day, and you knew it.

Fate was determined to see you cry, and this only cemented your decision.

By the time you were ready to message them for the last time, you were drunk for courage, and maybe for yourself as you tried to bury your negative thoughts. You sat on the floor in the bathroom stall, listening as women came in and out, talking about their own happiness with their soulmates, wishes for the bride in her own.

Grabbing your phone out of your bag, you clutched it in your hands, fingers slowing typing out the last message you would send before taking your bracelet off.

“If you do actually read this, just know that I am happy for you all. I hope that you feel the happiness that you wish for.

I have decided that this will be the last time I hope to see a notification from you, a message in return saying that you have signed into the app and would like to meet me.

I am sorry if my messages were annoying in any way. You do not need to read them. They probably wouldn’t mean anything to you anyways.

I understand that you don’t want me, and that is fine. I am used to that. You would know if you read any of the messages I’ve sent.

I am taking off my bracelet in the morning, the hope I have for the bracelet diminished by the time you read this. If you do ever read this.

I wish you all a lifetime of happiness.”

Despite your drunken state, you were proud of how sober you sounded, thanking spell check for keeping everything eligible.

Getting off the floor, you moved from the stall and over to the sink, using the tissues and water to help make your makeup neater than it was seconds ago. You could feel your leg shaking from the amount of time you sat on the floor, your position less than desirable as you tried to make yourself comfortable on the cold, hard ground.

Once you felt more presentable, you decided to say goodbye to your friends, your phone telling you it was past midnight at that point. You also knew you would need your cane soon, the slight limp you had as you walked and the weird feeling in your hip telling you it would shift soon.

It took you a couple of minutes to walk through the crowd of people in the reception hall, but you were glad when you finally spotted Anna and Chris.

“Hye guys. I’m gonna be heading home.” You were tugged into a bear hug by Chris, his hold comforting especially after your feelings for the night were less than good. When you pulled back, you pointed your finger at him, eyes narrowed.

“Congrats bro. Remember, this is my best friend and I will hurt you if you hurt her.” You joked around, reminding him of the first talk you gave him over six years ago. He just laughed, before hugging you again.

“I hope you guys have a fun time at your honeymoon! Don’t forget, my name is extremely cute for babies. Plus, I would be the best godmother slash auntie ever.” You grin again, before bringing Anna into your arms, hugging her tight before letting her go.

Once you finish your goodbye’s, you finally leave the building, get in your car and head home to your apartment.

Your apartment was small, but it was home. You managed to make the place look comfy and cozy, needing all the comfort you could get. You wanted a pet, but your apartment didn’t allow them, and you didn’t have the money to get a service animal like your doctor had once suggested.  

It was cold when you walked inside, the heat off as you liked bundling up. You also didn’t want to spend the money on something when you were usually overheated anyways. Placing your keys on the little bowl your sister made you as a kid, you move around the couch and cozy recliner and make your way to your room.

You liked the color blue, and everyone would know by walking into your room. You had different shades of blue everyone, blankets, pillows, even your dresser was a dark navy blue. Placing your cane by your bedside table, you take your time changing into pajamas, just a simple pair of sweats and a large t-shirt you stole from your friend Michael years ago, the logo long faded and worn down.

Your bed consisted of many blankets, your very own comfort item. You loved the softness of them, and the warmth they provided. You had a weighted blanket, a gift from Anna last Christmas. You cherished it and always slept with it. It was a dark grey, standing out against the blues of your bed, but also tying the room together.

Pulling it over you, you let the weight of it rest against you, soothing the unknown and known tension in your body, helping you to be able to drift to sleep. However, the weight of the bracelet on your wrist was another issue.

It was familiar, but now unwelcome as you felt another rush of emotions hit you. You moved quickly, taking the bracelet off your wrist, moving over so you could reach your nightstand, placing the bracelet in the bottom drawer filled with other items you deemed as junk over the years.

The emptiness you felt once it was off your wrist was not a new feeling, but you felt it would be a permanent one.

Turning over, you faced the wall, remembering you had a work meeting in the morning and needed to wake up relatively early.

The last thing you think of was that damned bracelet, wondering if your parents knew the kind of resentment you would have towards it when they gave it to you.

-*-*-

“Now remember guys, this is a collaboration project. You may or may not receive any sort of notification when you put on your bracelet and it scans your mark.”

The man from Soul Connection spoke over the different Hybe groups in attendance. The CEO’s of Hybe chose to do the collaboration after the news that the population within South Korea was declining, and soul bonds were on the way to declining. They had made the announcement a couple days ago, the collaboration already sparking a boost in soul bracelet sales.

Everyone wanted to be bonded to one or more of the idols, especially to the bonded group BTS. Bangtan was a well-known bonded group, having come out to the public once public opinion on soulmates within the industry became better.  While the boys may already be a bonded group, they were still under contract and were given their own bracelets.

“What if we receive a notification, hyung?” Jungkook looked up at Namjoon, his hands interlocked with his leaders.

They were all nervous, a small part of them wondering if they had another soulmate out there. It wasn’t a new feeling to them, having all thought this over the years. They had all felt some weird, empty spot within their souls, but ignored it as they became more well-known and more popular over the years, their lives becoming busier with the increasing amount of attention.

But now, they didn’t have an excuse to not wonder about a missing soulmate, not when they were having to wear the soul bracelets that would let them know once and for all.

“Now, once you put these on, they bracelet will take a couple minutes to scan your mark, and plug it into the server, looking for any matches. Once they have found a match, you will get a notification, and will be brought to your soulmates profile.” The small man explained, moving throughout the room as he explained how the bracelets worked.

“But also, you will only be notified if you have a soulmate, but you might not be brought to a profile. You may be given basics if their mark is found in any medical history and the person has allowed it to be disclosed to the company.” The man held the bracelet up, the room of idols growing quiet as the stipulations were said.

“If your soulmate has worn the bracelet, or is currently wearing it, their information will come up, and any messages they have sent will be available to you at the time of identification. Once you get the notifications, your soulmate will receive one as well, notifying them that you’ve been found.” At his words, Namjoon looked over to their main manager, Sejin, who nodded back over. His management team already had a plan in place for, the smallest percentage, if they were to have another soulmate.

Once they got the okay, Jimin was the first to put his bracelet on, extremely curious to know if they were a completed bond, or if they had any missing soulmates out in the world. Like the man said, it took a couple minutes, but his heart broke once he got the notification. Hearing similar dings from his mates, he looked at them, tears in his eyes.

They had another soulmate.

One who had been wearing theirs for ten years.

One who had been messaging them.

And their last message said they lost hope and were going to take the bracelet off.

Next Chapter 

[tokiwarcube]

Here’s another fun request if you want but headcanons for the boys on who’s cool with eating and drinking after an s/o? Who loves to share everything and who’s not as into it? Personally I only share with someone I’m dating but I won’t with friends whereas one of my friends doesn’t care at all who she shares with.

This was a really fun one to think about! Silly domestic things like this are my weakness... even though it left me with a severe craving for fries and a shake LMAO Below the cut -- Enjoy! 🦇🖤🦇

Nathan Explosion

Totally fucking exasperated when the boys try to steal his shit (can you fucking not?) although they rarely even attempt it in the first place. He doesn’t freak about the germs, or about food insecurity, it’s moreso a thing of “why the fuck are you doing this when you can have your own?” He will be tossing hands back to their owners, and pushing people back by the forehead.

He might throw a fry to Toki once in a blue moon, but it’s very much a give-a-mouse-a-cookie situation, because now everybody wants one, and now he’s asking for a sip of his shake, and can God give him a fucking break for once?

He’s better with you, but again, he’s more liable to just ask for another of whatever he’s got so you can have your own. He might reflexively bat your hands away if you try to get sneaky with it, though.

He rarely even thinks about asking for some of whatever you’re having — if he wanted that, he would have ordered that. Simple as. Although, he won’t turn down a bite if you offer.

Pickles the Drummer

He has absolutely no problem with sharing — he only defends his shit from the boys because he knows they’ll take everything otherwise, and even then, he’s relatively lax. The most they’ll be met with is a simple “dude, seriously?” But in one on ones, (or if his plate is only accessible by one or two other people,) he doesn’t mind some thievery; however, this also means that the other person’s plate is completely fair game as well.

This applies to drinks too. He thinks his blood alcohol content is high enough to kill any germs that he picks up in the process (false), and regardless, he’s done more disgusting shit than swap a bit of spit (true).

You, however, don’t even have to strike first. He’s stealing from you at all times. It could be the exact same dish, exact same drink, and he’ll do it anyways. If you leave your drink unguarded for even a second, he’s swiping it for a sip. If he catches you eyeing his plate, he’s nodding at it, and piling shit on your plate if you don’t take something at his prompting. Zero fucks given, genuinely.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

He’s very vigilant about any thievery attempts from the boys, and is not afraid to stab at them with his fork. He hates the idea of swapping food-laden spit with any of the guys — hell, the one time Toki managed to steal a swig of his drink, he completely abandoned it for the rest of the night. He’s a walking petri dish, but yeah, this is where he draws the line. Go figure.

But you? Well, you’re different. He’ll throw a few snarky little quips your way if you ask for some, but he never actually denies you, or hails a waiter for another plate. Thing is though, he absolutely prefers to feed you bites himself. Hell, half the time he’s actually throwing his little remarks your way he’s got your jaw cradled in his hand to steady you, raising his fork to your lips. The boys are so sick of your asses.

The snarky remarks triple if you actually try stealing from him instead of asking.

He never asks for anything off of your plate, but he won’t turn you down if you offer. Sometimes he’ll steal a fry just to fuck with you, but that’s about it. He won’t even eat the damn thing half the time, he’ll just put it on his own plate and leave it there. And then give you shit when you go to take it back. Bastard.

Toki Wartooth

The most common target for food related thievery in Mordhaus, he defends his food with his life. It’s a battleground, and he will not be losing. (This is a lie — he loses with regularity.)

But actual sharing? Sharing he doesn’t mind! He might give a bit of back-talk depending on his mood, but if he actually likes what the other person has, he won’t complain much. (Skwisgaar is an exception to this, and he flat-out refuses to share anything with him — not that he ever asks, mind you. He’s hoping he asks someday, just so he can turn him down.)

You, however, have free reign at all times. Bonus points if he actually gets to feed you a bite of whatever he’s having — it strokes a very specific part of his ego. Double bonus points if you feed him bites off your own platter.

If he’s trying something new and he ends up liking it, he’ll always offer you a taste.

He asks for a bite of whatever you’re having damn-near every time you’re snacking on something, and what he is not given, he will steal. He’s weirdly adept at it, too — blink for a second, and you’ll be missing a bite of whatever you’ve got in your hands. He always makes up for it with a quick kiss to your temple afterwards, though. You should be upset on principle, but with the way his mustache tickles you, you can’t keep up the act. Damn.

William Murderface

He raises a huge fuss about food-thievery and sharing, but secretly, he doesn’t mind at all. Sharing food is a very secret love language of his, even if he doesn’t act like it in front of the guys. He whines and groans about it any time they ask, all the way up until they’re just about to retract the offer, and then he’ll acquiesce.

You are no exception to this behavior. Although over time, he becomes accustomed to saving a bite or two for you off the bat. Might even pile some on your plate if he notices you aren’t reaching for some yourself. He’ll still groan about sharing if you ask verbally, but the point remains: he is sharing. Best not to mention it, genuinely.

This goes both ways though, and absolutely expects you to share as well. He might steal a bite or two for the thrill of it, but he much prefers to have it offered to him. Silently, preferably. Just. Put some of whatever you’re having on his plate. He’ll swoon.

[rayclubs]

Which tf2 merc do you think gets mischaracterized the least?

Good question! Let's do a rating.

In my opinion, there are three aspects to characterizing someone.

Facts - you have to get basic character backstory right. This includes all objective canon truths, events, and, well, facts about said character.

Behavior - you need to understand how the character acts, how their interpersonal relationships function, what they're like in their day-to-day life. This is the nitty-gritty of fanfic and fanart, this is dialogue, line-to-line characterization.

Integrity - you need to understand the character's core beliefs and principles, what their values are and how they view the world around them. This isn't something you can easily quote or point to as a mistake in fanfic, it's more of an overall idea of a character.

Each of these is going to be worth up to three points, with zero for terrible characterization that gets everything wrong. This would ideally total to nine points. I'll be awarding an additional bonus point for character interpretation that doesn't make me scream "he would not fucking say that". Let's go.

Scout:

His backstory is fairly simple. He has an absent father, half a dozen siblings, and a crush on his boss who doesn't reciprocate. People mostly get this right, except they also call him a virgin despite the fact he canonically lands the fried chicken queen, and seems to do it with ease. 2/3.

His behavior is also mostly portrayed accurately, in that he's loud, obnoxious, self-absorbed, and can be kind of a dick, though not completely without endearing qualities. The fandom is, admittedly, guilty of making him more insecure and self-conscious than he actually is, to amp up the drama. 2/3.

His core values, however, are completely off. The main interpretations I see of him are "depressed Scout", "homophobic Scout", and "baby Scout", neither of which is true to his character. This is a grown man with a force-a-nature complex. The homophobia is just projection and internalized prejudice, but that phenomena is too complicated for me to dissect here. I talked about it before and might make another post later. Anyway, 0/3.

Scout does not get a bonus point. He would not fucking say "poggers" but he would say "daddy-o".

Overall characterization score: 4/10

Soldier:

Very little is known about Soldier's backstory so there isn't really any room to be wrong about it. What we do know is also vague and unreliable, so it's open to interpretation. Given how little room for error there is, I'll give him a 3/3.

His behavior is completely off in most cases, often shown to either be overly aggressive or so dumb you start to question how this man functions in his day-to-day life. Canon Soldier has plenty of endearingly stupid moments but a lot of them can be read as deadpan jokes on the character's part, and many turn out to be secretly clever moments, such as him infiltrating the robot base with a goofy cardboard disguise. Likewise, canon Soldier has plenty of aggressive and mean moments, but he's not cruel and very clearly not a threat to his teammates, which isn't captured at all in fanworks that decide to go that way. 0/3.

Soldier's core ideals are mostly captured well, as in - yeah, he calls people communist as an insult in fanfics. I feel like he should mention God more often than he does in fanon, it's, like, one of the two ideologically meaningful things he ever talks about. The importance of "America" as a concept to him is mostly preserved but left unexplored. 2/3.

Soldier does not get a bonus point, he would not fucking say [homophobic slur] yet here we fucking are.

Overall characterization score: 5/10

Pyro:

His backstory is nonexistent yet people still fuck it up. His technical knowledge is clearly extensive and impressive, as shown by the complexity of his weaponry - which, mind you, looks HAND MADE - but people treat him as if he's altogether incompetent and maniacally stupid all the time always. He also ran an engineering company for hell knows how long and people just forget about it because they're allergic to adults or something. God this pisses me off so much. I mean for fuck's sake, people act like his full job description is "Pyromaniac" and not "Pyrotechnician". I'm so tired. 0/3.

His day-to-day characterization and dialogue is also completely off. People treat him as if he's INCAPABLE of communication, make him obsess over childish things he's only shown a moderate liking to in a manner that's borderline creepy and insulting, and take away his whole entire agency in everything he ever does. I will literally not give y'all a single point, you do my man Pyro so dirty. 0/3.

His ideology is complex and vague in canon, and I don't blame people for getting confused by such things as Pyrovision, but FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. In my time on Ao3 I've seen animal Pyro, cryptid Pyro, monster Pyro, alien Pyro, evil mindless maniac Pyro, incompetent baby Pyro, nonbinary Pyro (HENCE MY PROBLEM WITH THE HEADCANON, do you see how it looks next to all these other interpretations?) but I've rarely, if ever, seen competent adult Pyro with actual hopes and dreams and agency. 0/3.

Pyro does not get a bonus point because he would not fucking say "uwu" but he would say "fuck", let Pyro say fuck.

Overall characterization score: 0/10 are you fucking surprised

Demoman:

Oh poor lad what have they done to you. So, Demo's backstory is arguably the most detailed and fleshed-out in the entire canon. Too bad nobody fucking read it. Admittedly, in the recent years I've seen people mostly manage to remember he has several jobs and is overall a competent and successful man, but it's rarely - if ever - explored, I've seen exactly one fic where the author bothered to explore what one of his other jobs might be (and it was not a good fic for many other reasons, don't ask me for a link), and it honestly feels like people don't want to dwell on it? Like, they mostly mention it to fill a quota, y'know? Here, I'm not racist, I've acknowledged one of this character's achievements, leave me alone. Also the subject of him being fucking adopted as a kid never comes up. 0/3.

His day-to-day characterization suffers a lot because people think alcoholism is the most morally repugnant thing that can ever happen to a human being. This man honestly barely even has a presence in the fics he's in. Are you wondering where Demo is? Well, he wasn't there! He was BUSY! He couldn't come! There is a handful of writers who bother to write his actual inner monologue and point of view, and this point goes out to them only. Also there was a pretty good Boots and Bombs fic in which Demo was a dick to Soldier but then got better, and it stuck with me. 1/3.

His core character is fucked up by fandom because he's either all flaws or not allowed to have any flaws, and there's no in-between. Ever since I joined the fandom I've seen a lot of critique floating around, and people mostly seem to listen and realize they've been mistreating the man for long enough, but it created a whole separate problem of Perfect Demoman which is bland and boring. People don't want to write an offensive caricature but don't feel like fleshing him out either, so they just make him great at everything and never let him fail and grown in ways that are meaningful. Except that one fic I mentioned earlier, but I've already awarded a point for that. 0/3.

Demo does not get a bonus point. I couldn't find a meaningful example of bad dialogue because, like I said, he has no presence in any of the fics he's in. He would fucking say something.

Overall characterization score: 1/10 and honestly it's too generous on my part.

Heavy:

Okay so Heavy's backstory really confuses people. I've got like a dozen asks in my inbox when I called his father a revolutionary AND a counter-revolutionary. Wait till I call him a royalist, it'll blow your tits clean off. I don't feel like explaining the history of the communist regime in the USSR on this post, let's just say people are mostly faithful to canon but don't really "get" Heavy. 2/3.

His day-to-day characterization is plain bad. He's treated like a mother hen to the mercs when he's more of a stoic friend with a mean streak and a crude sense of humor. I think the main problem is the dialogue, people just can't give him the dignity of speaking in an intelligent manner. It's honestly also pretty bad in the comics. 1/3.

His core ideals are fine, if oversimplified. He's not a complicated man, he loves his family, his guns and his doctor. People rarely give him any more depth than that but it's not offensive to his character or anything. I feel like he should have more political opinions than people give him. I also feel like people make him way more protective of Zhanna's romantic pursuits, to a creepy degree. I mean, yes, he's annoyed by her marrying Soldier, and seems horrified for a brief second, but it's not like he's against it or anything, he's just kinda surprised? Anyway, 2/3.

Heavy does not get a bonus point because he would not fucking say "da". Pizda.

Overall characterization score: 5/10

Engineer:

Yeah people mostly get him. He's got 11 Ph. Ds. Some treat him like he grew up as an actual cowboy or something but most remember he's a nerd. I'd actually give all the points here because Engie's backstory is NOT complicated. 3/3.

His dialogue and day-to-day characterization is also okay, though people really mellow him down a lot. I had a bit in one of my fics where he said something like "let's teach those sumbitches how the real killin' is done" and like three different people commented on it saying they liked or were surprised by his mean energy. It's not even that mean, I think it kinda shows my problem with his interpretation. 2/3.

I asked about mischaracterization once and a lot of people replied "Engie is the most mischaracterized because people treat him like he's good but he's actually evil" which I think pretty much covers it? It's hard to write someone who is not implicitly strictly good or strictly evil. Engie treads this balance really well, I'm actually convinced his demeanor is not a facade, he is nice at times and mean when he wants to be. Fanon Engie can only be one of two things and neither is right. 0/3.

Engie gets a bonus point as an exception. I actually can't tell why, people just have his voice on-point. Is his accent and manner of speaking really that easy for you? I struggle to write him a lot. I think he should say "bitch" more.

Overall characterization score: 6/10

Medic:

People focus on the fact he lost his medical license more than on the fact he HAD a medical license in the first place. Other than that he really doesn't have a backstory. I dislike that people try to give him a sad one, I think he grew up loved and maybe even a little spoiled, but I can't fault others for not following my headcanons, so. 2/3.

His dialogue is the WORST because it's written phonetically. His goofy yet self-confident energy isn't captured well at all. The best I can put this is "people wife him" but it sounds kinda mysogynistic so really I'm at a loss. Submissivepilled breedablemaxxer. 0/3.

His core values are also all over the place. The complicated thing about writing Medic is that he actually doesn't come with pre-packaged drama. His backstory is vague, his demeanor is optimistic, his vibes are fun, and the worst thing that happened to him in canon was working with the classics for a bit - people amp it up to squeeze hurt out of it, which is fine, but not many people actually like going there. Thing is, fanfic writers aren't that good at writing drama when it hasn't been established before. They have to warp his character, make him edgy, self-conscious, or plain mad evil without redeeming qualities. I remember really struggling with my big Medic fic because I wanted it to be dramatic but had to put a lot of work into actually building up the emotion, because Medic is fine. He's fine. He's alright. He's fine. He's doing well. 0/3.

Medic does NOT get a bonus point, he would not fucking say "babygirl" and I'm not even sure if he would say "yass queen slay" I'm SORRY

Overall characterization score: 2/10

Sniper:

People mostly get his backstory right, probably because it's the most well-explained in the comics and it gets the most "screentime". It's also literally a Superman parody which is funny and memorable in concept. 3/3.

People can't find a good balance between stoic professionalism and social anxiety. I think Sniper is actually pretty simple, in that he's a little self-conscious which pushes him to actively better himself as a professional, but also makes him a little awkward so he comes across as standoffish and a little mean. He's a solid bloke that's balanced and feels real. Fandom has to go for the extreme every goddamn time with him. It sucks. 0/3.

People kind of get his drama, his relationship with his family and whatnot - mostly because a lot of us losers can relate, I bet - but, again, go for the extreme in making him anxious, whiny, and sad as a wet kitten. Unless it's a porn fic in which case he's an absolute freak that growls at people. I don't know what it is about Sniper that makes him so difficult to characterize. Manic pixie dream boy. Dark and moody lover love me like no other. 0/3.

Sniper does NOT get a bonus point because he doesn't say "cunt" nearly as often as he should. Also send me asks about my Sniper takes I want to stir up some shit.

Overall characterization score: 3/10.

Spy:

The only piece of his backstory we actually know is that he fathered the blight of the earth that is Scout TF2. 3/3.

His obnoxious and insufferable demeanor is mostly captured well. A lot of his portrayals aren't nearly as classy as people think they are, but that's because most authors are themselves proletarian, myself included, which is fine. Not many make the effort to pepper his speech with French words it would actually be natural for him to say, and blame it on the nonsensical complexity of the French language, but I'm not buying it as an excuse. 2/3.

His core values are off in regards to Scout - he's often portrayed as soft, mellow, overbearing, and critical of Scout's love life to either a comical or an uncomfortable degree. His fandom portrayal often also lacks the self-confidence he's demonstrated in the comics. Spy is not above strangling a man with a chain that holds the shackles around his ankles, he wouldn't consider it a blow to his dignity to fuck any of his coworkers either, come on. He's also funny and goofy but the fandom tends to neglect that. 1/3.

Spy does not get a bonus point because he would not say "perchance" but he would say "your mother".

Overall characterization score: 6/10

The final scores are:

Spy - 6/10

Engineer - 6/10

Heavy - 5/10

Soldier - 5/10

Scout - 4/10

Sniper - 3/10

Medic - 2/10

Demoman - 1/10

Pyro - 0/10

There we go! Pyro is the most mischaracterized, Demoman is a close second, and nobody is characterized well. Cheers!

[filmofhybe]

Requesting enha finding out that their idol!s/o is other idols’ ideal type?

Enhypen find out that their idol!s/o is other idols ideal type

Pairing : ot7! x reader Genre : Idol! x Idol! , fluff Warning : jealousy 950 words

a/n: requested currently open :) this is kinda bad I hope you enjoy it tho😞

> masterlist of my other works

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

정원 jungwon + 선우 Sunoo

Both of them would be quiet, like the type of quiet where you can hear a fly fly pass by. Is just their way to show they are currently jealous because they just saw a article about how your like half of the male idols ideal type. They know how pretty you are, I mean your the face of lots of famous brand, you have such a sweet and angelic personality and they can’t help but think if you would leave them for those other male idols. They are just a bit insecure baby that are still trying to get use to dating such a gorgeous girl but these bad thoughts are really getting to them. So they would go up to you and ask.

“Hey love…why are you so quiet? Are you okay?”

“Sweetie.. this is kinda stupid but will you ever leave me?”

“No I would never! You treat me so well! Why you think I would?”

“Because I saw a article about how a lot of handsome male idols ideal type is you..”

“Ah~ that’s why.. but don’t worry my love you would always be my number 1 and I would never leave you!”

They would feel so much better afterwards and would ask for you to shower them with lots of love and kisses. You would secretly posting a pictures of you both on Instagram just to show off how cute your relationship is!!

your very grateful for them and you hope they would never think you would leave them for other males.

박종성 Park Jeongseong + 심재윤 Sim Jaeyun +성훈 Sunghoon

WHOOP WHOOP WE GOT THE POSSESSIVE TRIO!! They know you would never leave them, because they know how down bad you are for them and they know you both are like missing pieces of puzzles that could never be separated. But when he overhears other male idols talking about how your their type. They instantly get jealous. No they won’t stay quiet either they will tell you about it. (Also they are the type to make the other males know they have zero chance with you!!)

“y/n love you know your mine right?”

“Hmm? Yeah of course where are you getting this from?”

“Some stupid idols say your their ideal type just want to tell you that your too gorgeous for them.”

“UH LMAO..? Thank you?? But like I would never leave you for them trust me baby.”

“Of course I know.. just want to let you know you belong to me, we stick together forever.”

“Forever and always.”

Would talk about you on interviews and the media would go crazy about it. He isn’t doing it for the views or attention, Is because he loves you so much and wants to show you off. (maybe also a warning for the male idols to stay away from you)

희 승 heeseung + にしむら りき Nishimura Riki

the ones that would laugh about it but deep down is jealous. They would come across a compilation of male idols saying your their ideal type. And they would laugh about it at first and would show it to you. You would start laughing as well cuz how silly that those idols think they have a huge chance with them as well. Which that’s when they stopped laughing and joking around, and just sat there in silent. You would be so confuse why their mood change so fast, werent they laughing just 5 seconds ago and now they are silent..? They are basically babies that wants comforting and are scared you would leave them :(

“Hey bub Are you okay? Why are you silent now..?”

silent.

“did I do something wrong? Are you thinking about something?”

“Nothing is just you started laughing after I showed you the video of compilation of other males saying your their type. I don’t know..maybe you thought they were cute…”

“Oh my gosh no my love!! I just thought it was funny how they think they have a chance with me. Never think like that okay? Your the cutest out of everyone in this world! I love you so much I would never leave you.”

“Thank you darling I love you more.”

You guys continue to laugh at the video afterwards while cuddling cause somehow to you both is entertaining. You both are just couple goals

taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world @okjaeminn @nonotwice1 @thinkmyg @blubbfsh

reblog,comment or request to be on the perm taglist!!

[savagewildnerness]

What a gorgeous interview with Assad.  Imagine being him… you audition for a minor role… then all of a sudden you’re Armand… then you’re not Armand for S1, then you watch S1 and it’s incredible and in S2 you’re Armand and you actually have the largest role in the entire season 2 and THEN your first scenes are that gigantic argument with Louis and all of episode 5 in which you have to be absolutely peak 100% essence-of-Armand and in the back of your mind is like “Wow, if S2 fails, it will be MY FAULT!”  The pressure!!! And then Armand is just THE most complex character and has the most heartbreaking backstory and you have to convey him truthfully. It's all A Lot!!!

Anyway, as to the interview, you should listen to Assad talk beautifully about it rather than me yammer on. Every week, my first thought after watching a new episode is how I want to shout from the rooftops how magnificent Assad is! He is Too Incredible.

Leaving Interview With the Vampire aside (so you can stop reading here!) and turning inwards...

...the first bit made me sad on a personal level.  Who are the teachers trying to encourage shy children to act (so many actors talk this way and it seems SO alien to me!) and where were they in my life?!  There was no drama in my secondary school (in lessons we were taught at least, hahaha!) but in my primary school, Reception (age 4/5) did the nativity, Year 4’s (age 8/9) did the Christmas play and year 6’s (age 10/11) did the Summer play. It was a big school so no other years were involved in any play or any drama.

When I was 8, in year 4, the Christmas play was going to be A Christmas Carol and I desperately wanted to be in the play.  I had visions of playing Martha.  Anyway, there were around 100 children in each school year, BUT my class teacher was the Director of the play.  You couldn’t just audition to be in the play, you had to be invited to try out for it… but (admittedly very quiet, silent and shy) 8-year-old me said to my teacher that I’d like to audition for the play, and she…. LAUGHED IN MY FACE & said “hahaha, you can’t audition!  You’re WAY too quiet!”

And because I was way too quiet, I didn’t fight it.  I just took the “No.” Hahaha. And I learned that I was too quiet to have that kind of a dream & that I had been totally stupid to ever even imagine it. I only got quieter & less confident from that age onwards really, too.

But - It all worked out OK as I did actually play the leading boy in the year 6 play we did… only I know because it was a musical and all the 11-year-old boys had voices that were breaking so it was bad timing for them, thus I got the role.  And I REALLY FOUGHT for it.  In a way o don’t think I ever fought for any other thing in life. Stuff just happened to me? I think I was rubbish.  To audition for that, we had to make up our own scene and act it out, and I was good at thinking of imaginary worlds which was, I am sure the only reason I got to do that. But I did it. And it was the start and end. I remember I had to say “Don’t be respondent love” at one point and everyone laughed at this little kid saying those words. And I cried in a rehearsal (because the character was sad) and the teacher AGAIN said “Are you crying?” And the other children laughed at me.

But there was no drama as I say in my secondary school… and anyway, from age 11 onwards I became a lot more insecure.  And seeing as everyone had always told me I was just a silent, shy thing I had nothing to fall back on to believe and I just believed that was all I was and I couldn’t achieve anything.

I recently met my music teacher from secondary school in fact and I was a music person in school as you might imagine and she said “Wow, I can’t believe you have a job.  You were always so quiet.”  So that’s great!  I always did well in exams, but apparently I was quiet to such an extreme extent, even a teacher of a subject that I was notable enough at that the teacher remembers me literally thought I would have zero ability to ever function in the real world.

I can’t say she was wrong! *Unfunctioning*!!! Hahaha

I really related to Assad's tales of secondary school. I was good at maths at school and did Further Maths A-level and I was the only person in the school to do it so had 1-1 lessons. In every single maths lesson (I'm not a kid at this stage obviously! I'm 16-18!) I sat with my teacher in SUCH utter silence that you would hear both of out stomachs rumbling. LOLOLOL, it was SO awkward. I can't articulate to you how at that age I literally could not do talking at all. It would make me want to laugh the way you'd hear our stomachs having a conversation, ahahahahah.

I made that all about ME! Oops.  But hey.  Storytime with me!  I still believe I am terrible at All Things. And I don't think I am as quiet now, but I know other people perceive me that way still. Oh well. I am silent and alone and that's fine. Words are overrated unless written or spoken by others, anyway!

[belphegorbillickin]

Could I request b,e,o,v,x for Floyd and Jade

Honestly, I feel like this is one of the only situations where the yandere version of the characters would actually be nicer and potentially even healthier, at least for Jade.

So consider yourself warned.

Bargain, would they just accept a break-up? Do they mope around or try to fix things? How would they attempt to get you back?

Honestly, I could easily see Floyd going either way. He's definitely not the type to start crying and clinging onto someone as they leave, but he's also definitely not the kind of guy that just lets someone leave either. So if Floyd's getting kind of bored or if he can tell you're just trying to play mind games with him? He'll let you go with zero fanfare. Or, if he's actually annoyed, he'll start rubbing it in and use every one of your closely guarded insecurities against you to ensure your faux tears turn real. Honestly, it's your fault shrimpy, for assuming he wouldn't notice just 'cause he's a little moody. Floyd is eerily perceptive, he just rarely utilizes it for anyone else's gain. Well, besides maybe Jade and occasionally Azul, if he compensates him enough.

But if he doesn't want you to go? You don't. Period, end of story, capiche? Try to leave and suddenly everyone you've ever cared about is either under contract, got the other twin's fist wrapped around their throat, literally and figuratively, and the trio already has several lists worth of blackmail ready to send to everyone's employers and landlords. Whether it's actual evidence, falsified, or both is up to you and your loved ones. So do be sure to make a wise decision, won't you?

Trying to get the police involved means getting the family involved, and while they don't have as much influence above sea level, it's still more than enough. You're in this for life, or y'know, until they get bored of you. Which isn't all that unlikely, although chances are if neither has gotten sick of you a few years in you're probably stuck for life. But who cares about the fine print when you're living in the moment? You're having fun, aren't you? Aren't you?

Jade is a bit trickier, as his behavior can change quite a bit depending on your own. Even in a relationship, you can never be quite sure how honest he's being. Although honestly, I can't see him being the kind of person to truly chase after someone, and he's certainly not the kind to beg or plead with any kind of sincerity. Well, romantically that is, he very much loves to chase people in the literal sense. Especially when they let out those delightfully high-pitched shrieks humans are just so full of. Regardless, chances are if you want to break up it's most likely because he's already started to lose interest, otherwise he would've already prevented that. Or tried his best to, anyway. But, in the rare case that you saw something you shouldn't have or you start to want to stray for whatever inane reason, I could see Jade pulling his usual schemes to get you back.

Though, there is an extremely high chance he's only winning you back just to gouge your heart out and ruin all of your future relationships instead. You do remember what he said back in Scarabia, right? "If I were betrayed by someone the way you were, I'd lash out with a torrent of unmitigated abuse to break them mentally, then bind them and drag them beneath the waves."

In the even smaller chance that he actually wants you back… Yeah, you're still getting much of the same. If anything he's even more likely to isolate you and carefully lash out at any support systems you may have. Not because he's under any real delusion that they caused this and you're just an innocent little guppy, but because Jade believes in an eye for eye and you've left him awfully blind. Or rather, Jade believes in an eye for an entire shattered skull, at the very least. Jade is aware that he's a rather complicated man. He adores chaos and unpredictability, but delights in squashing the weak and innocent under his boots, one inch at a time, controlling every aspect of their life. But don't you feel flattered to catch his ever wandering eye? You should you know, he can count the number of people who've entertained him this long on one single, spindly hand. Do take care to keep that up now, won't you?

Outrageous, how do they react when you get yourself into trouble? Do they bail you out or are you on your own? Do they expect you to get them out of trouble?

Honestly, both Floyd and Jade probably find it funny, or at least entertaining. So long as you're not in mortal danger of course. They'll give you the chance to get yourself out of whatever trouble you've gotten yourself into, just for the sheer joy of watching you struggle, but neither of them would pass up on the chance of getting you indebted to them. It'd be incredibly hard to get to the chance to actually save Jade, and honestly I think he'd find it very disconcerting at absolute best anyway, especially since that would typically mean neither Floyd nor Azul had been able to get there first. Jade wouldn't dare act ungrateful though. He'll immediately start paying you back, but he's putting at least twice as much effort into finding some way to gain control over you in turn.

Floyd would also be slightly uneasy at first, but mainly head over heels for his beloved shrimpy! Your spine will be shattered by his sheer adoration and excitement instead of the usual reasons. He'll still pay you back, but he's nowhere near as concerned about it as Jade is. Who still tries to get you under his control, just for his brother's sake instead of his own this time.

Emergency, what would they do if you needed them? Do they drop everything? Do they panic? What do they do if they need you?

Floyd may not seem like it at first, but he's very protective, territorial even, when it comes to his darling shrimpy. A dog bites you, tearing out a piece of your flesh? Well, you'd better find something to bite down on yourself, because Floyd is going to be gouging it out with his own needle-like teeth soon after. Don't whine too much, alright? Azul can fix that right up. But not before Floyd bites you first, for... reasons. Eelmer reasons. You may uh, also want to keep any Mr John Wicks away from the area depending on the circumstances and how bad your injuries are. …Okay, yeah. Realistically whatever animal that attacked you is getting beaten to death in a way that'd make his usual go-to of being gutting something alive with his claws or snapping a spine in two seem merciful. The owner is likely getting their ass handed to them as well, especially if they did nothing to intervene or even blamed you, regardless of how high up they think they are.

People living under the sea, especially in the deep, dark trenches where eelmer usually live, don't have the same luxuries as those living above it. If something, whether that be another predator or simply another unknown mer, gets too comfortable around their pod, then they must be destroyed for the good of the group. Open, bleeding wounds are a one-way ticket to a feeding frenzy, and although mer may not be anywhere near as protective of their young as most of the other sapient races, they would still rather kill any predators their children have no hope of surviving. Besides, what kind of mate would he be if he allowed you to bleed out? From something he didn't even do himself at that? Humans are awfully pathetic creatures, aren't they? Good thing you have him to protect you then, like any other good eel protected their beloved shrimp. (Even if it is very a bit reminiscent of a protection racket.)

Jade, for all his efforts to appear oh so controlled, is actually not all that dissimilar once his instincts kick in. You'd never know it just listening to his voice, but get him riled up enough and it'll be shockingly easy to mistake him for Floyd with the way he's wailing on your assaulter, one broken bone at a time. Though you do have to wonder if Floyd was ever this cruel as he somehow manages to avoid knocking them out, prolonging their suffering even further. But don't worry. Once he's done with that he'll ruin them financially, if they're even still alive that is, as well as everyone else they've ever loved as well. 

Vacation, Do they have vacation plans? Where are they taking you? For how long?

Floyd would love to take you back home! It's where he can laugh at all of your pathetic attempts to keep up with him as you beg to not be left behind. It sure does feel nice to be wanted, doesn't it? Where he could scare you by hiding in the kelp forests and dragging you into them, show you all of his favorite spots, the cute wildlife he imagined you cooing at, and show off his fighting abilities in a form even stronger than the one you're used to.  As much as Floyd loves to seek out new experiences, he does seem to be the most homesick and comfortable in his natural form out of the three of them. Besides, having you come along with him keeps things fresh and exciting! And mama's been dying to meet you! Don't be shy, she doesn't bite. Without good reason to, at least. Unlike her (two) son(s.) As for how long? Probably not too long, but as is everything with Floyd, it's rarely consistent. Even when he's already agreed to a specific date.

Jade, on the other hand, would love to bring you to the mountains with him. He's surprisingly patient with you, even if you keep stumbling and asking for breaks, so long as you're willing to let him ramble on about the wonders of nature and show at least a little excitement for him. He's maybe a little too excited, especially when you (un)knowingly bite into the love(mysterious mushroom)-packed lunch that he made just for you! But why wouldn't he be? Are you really so cruel as to accuse your poor "little" heartbroken boyfriend of having some ulterior motives? He would love to stay longer, (and see how long you could last out in the wilderness,) but alas, duty calls. Jade can rarely stay for longer than a weekend, but he'd love to leave Friday night and come back Monday morning if he could.

X-ray, what are some of their thoughts when with you that they don’t say aloud?

It'd be easier to list the things that Jade did say aloud, in front of or about you. Honestly, I don't think Jade would be all that into romance on his own at first. He'd probably think of your relationship as more of an experiment at first, in the psych study kind of way, until he finally started getting attached. Not that he would've just done it with anyone though, that would be a colossal waste of his time and effort.  No, you were still special to him in your own way even before that. Enough for Floyd to notice his interest in you and consider interfering even. For his brother's sake of course, what kind of an eel do you take him for?

Floyd on the other hand hardly ever keeps anything to himself, regardless of how that might make you feel. He absolutely loves the cute little faces and complaints you make when he says something a bit too crass. If he thinks you should be wearing something more flattering or acting a bit smarter? He'll tell you. If he thinks you look really good in public? He'll definitely tell you with zero care of who's watching. Or especially so, if it means offending someone like Riddle. Floyd does whatever his black little heart desires at the time, regardless of (most of) the consequences. The only real exceptions are things that Jade doesn't want you to know, (Azul's usually fair game though, especially if it gets him all huffy,) and classified details about the family business. That's not to say he can't be incredibly sneaky or plan things out however. Remember Bean Day? As Floyd himself said, Morays are cowards at heart. He won't go in for the kill until everything's set up just right, even if the waiting is killing him, and he's certainly not averse to bringing Jade or Azul into his plans. You may not even notice he's planned anything at all however, as Floyd's behavior is so erratic that all of his carefully laid plans and suddenly bossy behavior as he pulls you along don't stand out at all.  Your only hope of noticing when he's going to pull you into something particularly dangerous or permanent is the excited gleam in his eyes, and how much of his undivided attention he's been giving you for hours on end. So yeah... Good luck with that.

Honestly, I've just never really abided by the popular fanon characterizations.

I wasn't active in the fandom at all until book three had been released on the English app, and still rarely sought out anything until after book 4, so seeing them being characterized the way they are on tumblr left me feeling like I had read something completely different.

At least one member of the octatrio is always in my top 3 specifically because they were some of the only "truly evil, unrepentant villains" in TWST.

Especially because I only really got into TWST when I was feeling frustrated about OBM! losing almost all of it's edge and seeing nothing but fluff & lighthearted humor 24/7.

[highlordofkrypton]

TALK TO ME ABOUT CASSIAN X TAMLIN BROTP PLEASE?

I WAS IN BED WHEN YOU SENT ME THIS I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL I COULD GET TO A COMPUTER AHHHHH I love talking about this himbroship I'm buzzing where do I even start omg omg

This is 10000000% fanon, but it's good, happy, soft and silly!

Cassian and Tamlin met during the First Hybern War; Rhysand was like 'hey ya'll meet my new friend' and like any normal person Cassian was like OH YEAH, TAMLIN'S NOSE MEET MY FOREHEAD

They ended up wrestling bc the broness called to one another, so obviously they had to test each other

It's now a normal greeting for them for Cassian to barrel into Tamlin and tussle with him; Tamlin loves it because it's the relationship he never had with his brothers

Cassian is THE shorter older brother, he's at least 30 years older than Tamlin, but Tamlin is 6'5"+ and Cassian is built like a BAKED BEAN

Tamlin is definitely the more introverted one because he's insecure, but Cassian will double down on ANYTHING Tamlin says or wants. OH UR VEGETARIAN BRO??? BEANS ARE THE SHIT AND GRASS TOO

Cassian doesn't know what exactly vegetarians eat except grass and beans, he tried once and cried he did not like whatever the hell a 'bean patty' is

Having a friend outside of the Night Court is a really fascinating experience to Cassian because even though they both had different upbringings, they have similar... vibes? Tamlin is quiet and curious, Cassian and loud and will put his hands/mouth on anything to figure out what the hell this new thing is. They both had 2 brothers with a MEH dad, warrior training, they punch first and ask questions later, it's just really cool to connect with someone on that level

It's also nice for Cassian to be able to chill w/ someone else and get an outside POV when he's going through something w/ his brothers

Cassian 10000% percent vibes with Tamlin's let's just fuck off and live in nature, it's very peaceful

Tamlin's great great great great great grandmother is a willow tree who has the hots for Cassian, lots of shh shhh and stroking his face with her vines when he's being so dumb

Cassian is seemingly more hot-headed than Tamlin, but Tamlin is the one with rage issues; it actually helps Tamlin a lot to have a friend who will BLURT OUT the first thing that comes to mind especially when confronted with something shitty like 'YO DUDE THAT'S A FUCKED UP THING TO SAY' and 'OK U WANNA GO?? MET ME IN THE PRYTHIAN PARKING LOT 1V1 ME'

Cassian's bluntness also helps drag Tamlin out of depressive slumps. Trauma can really re-wire someone's brain and make you act out, but Cassian also turns his loud honesty on Tamlin like 'FIRST DON'T TALK ABOUT MY BEST FRIEND LIKE THAT' and 'YOU'RE BEING A DICK is this how you feel or is this a reaction my broski' -- his heavy hand is an excellent contrast to Tamlin's other best friend LUCIEN

The humour shared between Tamlin and Cassian makes zero sense to anyone. At all. They will die laughing at a bag of 70% cacao and Cassian will over the 'o' and they've been laughing at 'caca' for the last 10 minutes. It's very freeing for them.

Tamlin loves fruit, Cassian general does not eat fruit or vegetables. Tamlin introduced Cassian to a giant fruit bat and lied to say 'he's very disappointed u don't eat ur greens' and CASSIAN TOOK THAT PERSONALLY??? he eats mangoes now and other tropical fruits to honour his batcestors bat-ancestors???

Yes, they can have an entire conversation in 'bruh's

IF we transpose this friendship that started in the canon 'Tamlin trained with the Illyrians in the war' to TODAY, Cassian never recovered from the falling out between Rhysand and Tamlin. It's really difficult for him to reconcile what happened to HIS family with his friend he knew, loved and trusted. When Rhysand vanished, his first instinct would have been to go see Tamlin for help (but there's a lot of guilt for not checking on him either since Cassian knew Tamlin didn't have.... a support system like him).

In Modern AU, Cassian and Tamlin have DEFINITELY those ugly shirts wit each other's face on them and their names in ✨GLITTER✨

Fuck it, Cassian gets really into shirt printing and just prints shirts for them for every occasion, they're ugly on purpose -- he also has swim shorts that are just Tamlin's face going 8D all over them

Cassian started the 'BIG STRETCHY' trend whenever Tamlin stretches and it's law EVERYONE DOES IT NO MATTER WHO THEY ARE

Anyway, I love them a lot and ummmm I absolutely not normal about them I will DIE on their bestie hill

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I HOPE U LIKED READING IT AS MUCH AS I LIKED RAMBLING ABOUT IT