#or assuring me if i needed anything he was there

[silverynight]

The villains being afraid of Dynamight because they know that asshole would do anything for a bonus.

"Hey, Dynamight-san! I've been told you're about to break a record for catching a villain the fastest!"

"How much?" The pro hero smirks, looking like a predator. The villain can't hear what the other person is saying, but he's getting slightly worried; he's heard rumors about Dynamight. None of them are good.

"I'm not sure. But they assured me they'll give a lot of extra money in your next paycheck if you do!" The person in his earpiece says.

"Excellent," Dynamight turns to face the villain, cracking his knuckles in the process. "Listen, you dumb fuck, this is going to hurt like hell, but I don't have much time to do this in a delicate way. My babygirl Izuku needs his mecha suit as soon as possible."

[mephisto-reporting]

Hearbreak Anniversary with Rafayel

Summary: It was your anniversary with Rafayel. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Rafayel Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Content Warning: Fear of abandonment, self worth issues, angst, hurt and slight comfort, Rafayel grovelling, Rafayel POV

The soft glow of the sunset filtered through the gauzy curtains of Rafayel’s studio, painting the space in warm hues of gold and orange. The place smelled faintly of him—a mix of turpentine, salt, and the faint trace of his cologne. You had spent hours here today, your hands busy arranging the decorations you’d so carefully prepared for this special occasion. Sea shells, shimmering like iridescent pearls, lined the edges of the room, their opalescent beauty a nod to the ocean he once called home. Candles flickered softly on every surface, their flames dancing to an unseen rhythm. You’d even managed to find strands of silken seaweed and glass ornaments, hoping to evoke the beauty of his heritage, the beauty of him.

Every corner of his art studio had been dusted, tidied, and then transformed with touches of magic, warmth, and care. You even placed the tiny trinkets and mementos you had kept from your shared moments—little souvenirs from your adventures together, knickknacks that held meaning between the two of you. You wanted him to feel at home, to feel the same sense of belonging that you had with him. You even wore your best clothes, the ones he had once complimented.

Today was your first anniversary. The thought alone sent your heart fluttering, and you’d poured all that love into this space, into this moment.

A few months ago he had told you this was just another day for him. A god’s sense of time was different, fleeting, perhaps even insignificant. But to you, it meant everything. It was a celebration of love that had somehow defied the odds—of a mortal heart tangled with one belonging to something far greater. So you ignored the whispering doubts that crept into the back of your mind, choosing instead to focus on trust. Rafayel had chosen you, not her. No matter how many stories tied them together, no matter the whispered inevitability of their connection, he had assured you. It was you he loved now.

But as the hours passed, that fragile trust began to tremble.

You sat in the chair by the window, smoothing down the dress you’d picked especially for today. Time crawled. The soft golden light of day gave way to a dark, yawning sky, and still, Rafayel didn’t come home. The anniversary dinner, meticulously prepared and carefully plated, sat untouched on the table. Each tick of the clock became a cruel reminder of his absence.

Worry gnawed at you. What if something had happened to him? Perhaps the art sale ran late, or he was caught up with his patrons. But he always came back home, right?

Your heart twisted as you reached for your phone, dialing a number you didn’t want to use but needed to.

“Thomas?” you asked hesitantly, your voice trembling.

“Oh, hey,” Rafayel’s manager greeted casually. “Everything okay?”

“Is Rafayel still at the sale?” You tried to keep the panic from seeping into your tone, but the silence on the other end was damning.

“Uh… no, he left hours ago. Said he was going to grab dinner. Lina was with him.”

Your grip tightened on the phone, your knuckles turning white.

Lina.

The name struck like a knife.

“Thanks, Thomas,” you whispered, hanging up before he could ask anything more.

You sat there, staring at the flickering candles, their light casting long shadows across the studio walls. He was with Lina. On your anniversary. You had trusted him, convinced yourself that you were enough despite the insecurities that had clawed at your heart since the day you met him.

But now, they came roaring to life.

You had known, of course, who Lina was. She was the one linked to the sea god, his past, his history—his heart. You tried not to let it affect you, tried to bury the insecurities that rose whenever she came up in conversation. Rafayel always assured you there was nothing between them. But then why was he with her, of all people, on your anniversary?

Tears blurred your vision as your chest tightened painfully. Lina.

She was everything you were not. Strong, beautiful, a part of Rafayel’s past, his first love. How could you compete with that? How could you compete with someone who had shared so much more with him, someone whose bond with him was carved in the very fabric of his existence? She was a part of him, woven into the his story, while you were… just someone who had stumbled into his life, someone insignificant in comparison.

Lina... The woman who was forever tied to his past. The sea god's bride. The one he’d loved for so long, the one who had always been there, time after time. You had told yourself, time and time again, that it was nothing. That Rafayel was different with you. He had assured you that there was nothing between them anymore.

But if it’s nothing, why is he with her now? On our day.

Your fingers trembled as you held the phone to your ear, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to ask any more questions. The answers were irrelevant now. His absence, her presence, they were all you needed to know.

Tears pooled at the edges of your vision before spilling over, streaking your face like tiny rivers tracing paths through dusted cheeks. It wasn’t fair. Nothing felt fair. He had promised you. He had promised. But promises were like ocean tides, weren’t they? Sweeping away whatever they could, leaving only bits of broken shells behind.

Lina was everything you could never be. She was strong, beautiful, powerful—everything that Rafayel deserved. She had the sea god’s heart, had always had it, and here you were, just a fleeting ripple on the surface, barely a mark to him. She was woven into the fabric of his past, his future. What are you to him? What have you ever been?

The memories of your relationship, the quiet moments of closeness, the laughter shared under the soft, flickering light of his candles, all those moments seemed so... fragile now. Fragile and fleeting. You were nobody. Just a distraction, a place holder. Nothing more.

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor like the scratch of claws on stone. The studio, his studio, filled with remnants of him, was suffocating. His scent lingered in the air, the faint trace of his cologne mixing with the oils and paints scattered everywhere. His taste still clung to your lips from the last time you’d kissed him, the memories of his touch branded into your skin. It was all too much. Too much. The studio, so full of him, was now a suffocating reminder of what you had lost. You didn’t want to stay. You couldn’t.

You tried to hold the tears back, but it was useless. Every doubt, every fear you’d bottled up over the months came crashing down, drowning you in their suffocating weight.

This wasn’t love. This was a cruel game, one you couldn’t win.

You couldn’t breathe. You had to get out.

Your legs moved before your mind could catch up, carrying you toward the door. The wind hit your face the moment you stepped outside, cool and biting, but it wasn’t enough to quell the storm raging inside you.

You ran.

The streets blurred into one indistinct smear of light and shadow as you ran aimlessly, your feet pounding against the pavement, carrying you farther and farther from that studio. From him.

Eventually, the pavement gave way to sand, and the sharp tang of the ocean filled the air. The moon hung high above, casting a silver glow over the beach. Your chest heaved, your lungs burning as you collapsed onto the sand, letting the waves crash against the shore in a soothing rhythm that mocked your turmoil. You kept running, further and further away from whitesand bay, along the beach.

You stumbled, falling to your knees in the sand, clutching your arms around yourself. Your chest heaved as the tears fell freely, the sound of the ocean mixing with your sobs. Lina. You could picture them together, her hand in his, the same way they had been for so many years before you. The seagulls cried above you, indifferent to your pain. And in that moment, you realized that the world didn’t stop for you. It never had. You stared out at the endless sea, the dark horizon stretching in front of you.

How could I have been so blind?

The waves crashed against the shore, each one louder than the last. You are nothing to him. The thought echoed in your mind over and over, relentless, until you could barely breathe under the weight of it.

And just when you thought the world couldn’t get any colder, the tears started again. They fell freely now, salt mixing with the salt of the sea.

You had wanted to be enough. But maybe that was a joke after all. But even as your body trembled with the weight of the heartbreak, you knew one thing: You could never go back. Not to him, not to that studio, not to any of it. You were just a wave, crashing onto the shore, and he was the sea god.

The night wrapped itself around you like a suffocating blanket. The cold air bit into your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache clawing at your chest. Each crashing wave seemed to echo the bitter truth you couldn’t escape: you were never going to be enough for him. You curled tighter into yourself, trembling as the tears continued to flow. The sand clung to your dress, to your damp hands, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The world had narrowed to the storm raging inside you—a tempest of betrayal, doubt, and misery.

The sharp chill of the ocean breeze whipped your hair against your tear-streaked face, but it was nothing compared to the icy grip of despair coiling around your heart. Every promise he’d made, every word of reassurance, felt like shards of glass now, cutting into the fragile hope you’d built. The waves surged closer, the cold spray dotting your skin. Your sobs mixed with the crashing tide, swallowed up by the vast, indifferent sea.

You hugged yourself tightly, your body shaking as the cold seeped deeper into your bones. Yet, you stayed there, rooted to the spot, as if the ocean could somehow wash away the ache inside you. But no wave could reach that far, no tide could touch the place where your heart ached. You wanted to scream, to shout at the world for the injustice of it all, but the air in your lungs wouldn’t let you. You were too small for this world, too insignificant for him. You would never be the sea. You were just a small wave, lost in the expanse of the tide.

Rafayel’s POV

The door to the studio swung open, and Rafayel stepped inside, laughter trailing after him. “You should’ve seen the look on that shopkeeper’s face when I said we’d take both cakes,” he said, his voice warm and light. He turned to Lina, who chuckled softly as she followed him, holding one of the carefully boxed pastries. “He probably thought we were insane.”

Rafayel kicked the door shut behind him, balancing his own box of confections, his grin still in place. “I can’t wait to see my cutie’s face when she tries these. She’s going to love them.”

But the moment his gaze swept across the room, his laughter faltered and then stopped entirely.

The studio was transformed. Soft candlelight flickered, casting golden hues across the walls. Seashells glimmered like scattered pearls, carefully arranged along the edges of the space. Strands of delicate seaweed draped like garlands, their green silkiness catching the light. Trinkets, small but unmistakably meaningful, dotted the surfaces—each one an ode to moments he had shared with you. The table was set with plates of untouched food, lovingly prepared, and the air held a faint, tantalizing aroma that now felt unbearably heavy.

He froze, the pastry box slipping slightly in his grip. His throat tightened as his eyes roved over every detail, taking in the love and care you had poured into the space. The decorations, the mementos, the effort—it was overwhelming.

“Rafayel?” Lina’s voice broke through the silence. She stepped forward, her brows knitting in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” His voice cracked, and he set the box down on the nearest surface with trembling hands. “I fucked up,” he whispered, barely audible. His fingers grazed one of the seashells, its surface smooth and cool. He trailed his hand over a string of seaweed, the soft texture almost mocking him. “I fucked up bad.”

Lina’s concern deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Rafayel turned toward her, his expression stricken. “The anniversary. Our anniversary. It slipped my mind.” His voice was a low, shaky whisper as he glanced back at the table, the untouched plates, the flickering candles. “She did all of this… for me. For us.”

He called out your name, his voice echoing through the space. “Are you here? Cutie?” His steps quickened as he moved through the studio, searching. The bathroom. The bedroom. The small corner where you sometimes curled up to read. “Are you asleep?” he called, though he knew better. Each empty room was another blow to his gut.

Panic clawed at him as he returned to the main room, his gaze darting to the table again, the small trinkets, the soft glow of candles still burning. The room felt haunted, filled with the ghost of your hope and effort.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair, gripping it tightly. He grabbed his phone and immediately dialed Thomas.

“Thomas, did she—did she say anything to you? Did she mention where she might go?” Rafayel’s voice was taut with desperation.

Thomas hesitated. “She called me earlier. She asked if you were still at the sale. That’s all she said.”

The weight of Thomas’s words slammed into Rafayel like a wave. You’d called, searching for him, only to learn the truth he had tried to ignore. It had slipped his mind completely. He didn’t know you were setting all of this up. For him. For the both of you.

“Thanks,” Rafayel muttered, ending the call and immediately dialing your number. He paced the studio, his heart racing as the line rang once… twice… three times—

And then he heard it. The faint buzz of your phone, abandoned on the sofa near the window.

“Shit!” Rafayel cursed, grabbing the device and staring at the darkened screen as if it could offer him answers. “Shit, shit, shit!”

He collapsed onto the chair you had once sat in, his head in his hands. Where were you? His gaze drifted to the table again, the untouched dinner, the carefully arranged decorations.

How could he have been so blind? So careless? You had given him everything, and he… he had been too wrapped up in himself, too foolish to see what truly mattered.

Lina hesitated before taking a few careful steps toward Rafayel, watching his every move with growing concern. She’d never seen him like this before. His usual confident, almost cocky demeanor had vanished, leaving only raw distress in its place. He sat slumped in the chair, his phone clutched tightly in his hands, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath.

"Rafayel..." she began softly, her voice gentle but concerned. "What’s going on? What happened?"

Her hand brushed against his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, but the instant her fingers made contact with his skin, he flinched as though struck. His body jerked back, his eyes flashing with something wild—something dangerous.  His eyes, usually a mischievous swirl of pink and blue, flared into a startling, unearthly bright blue before he clenched them shut, his jaw tightening.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice hoarse as he pulled away, his fists curling. “Lina, I—sorry. I didn’t mean to—” He forced himself to inhale deeply, reigning in his emotions as the scales receded and his eyes returned to their usual hue. “I’m fine,” he lied, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. “I just... I need to find her.”

Lina’s hand hovered uncertainly before falling back to her side. “Rafayel,” she began gently, “her phone’s here. Her purse. Even her car keys. Where could she have gone?”

“I don’t know,” he snapped, the sharpness in his voice born of self-directed frustration. “And that’s what’s driving me insane.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots as if the pain could ground him. “She’s out there somewhere, without her coat, without her phone... and it’s freezing tonight.”

Lina straightened, crossing her arms. “Then let me help—”

“No.” His interruption was immediate, his tone brooking no argument. He turned to her, his expression pained but resolute. “This is my fault. I need to fix this myself.”

“But—”

“Please, Lina,” he cut in, softer this time. “If she’s out there, you’ll hear from me. Just… if you see her, let me know. But I have to do this alone.”

After a long, hesitant pause, Lina relented, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Fine. But don’t do anything reckless. I’ll keep my eyes open and let you know if I find anything.”

Rafayel nodded, murmuring his thanks before grabbing his coat and storming out into the night.

The cold air bit at his face as he ran through the streets, his breath forming short puffs in the frigid night. He clutched his phone tightly, the screen glowing as he swiped to a recent photo of you, showing it to every passerby he stopped.

“Have you seen her?” he asked a bewildered man on the corner. “This woman? Please—it’s urgent.”

The man shook his head, muttering an apology before hurrying off. Rafayel grit his teeth, suppressing the wave of panic threatening to consume him. Where are you?

The thought repeated like a drumbeat as he made his way to the beach. The icy wind off the water made him shiver, but he pressed forward, searching desperately. He called your neighbor, pacing along the shoreline as he waited for an answer.

The voice on the other end was soft, a little worried. “No... the lights are off. The door’s locked. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.”

His heart skipped a beat, the silence that followed pressing like a weight on his chest. Where were you? Where could you have gone? You were working so hard fore him, for the both of you since the afternoon and he wasn’t even there to experience it with you together. He could imagine it, the smile on your face as you placed those shells, the excitement in your movements as you cooked his favorite food. His eyes darted to the horizon, a dark line of water stretching out before him, and his legs moved faster, pushing him toward the shore, toward the place where you sometimes went to escape.

The beach was empty when he arrived, the wind biting at his skin, the waves crashing softly against the sand. He scanned the shoreline, dread filling him as he searched. There was no sign of you, but his heart refused to let go of the hope that you might be here.

He walked for what felt like hours, the weight of the cold creeping into his bones as the night deepened. The autumn air turned chillier, the first hints of winter brushing against his skin. You hadn’t taken your coat. You hadn’t taken anything. What was he thinking? You’d never leave without saying something. So why was he—

His breath hitched as his gaze landed on something ahead. A small lump on the sand.

His heart stopped, the world narrowing down to that single, fragile form crumpled against the cold ground.

“No!” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. He ran towards you, his legs moving faster than they ever had before, fear propelling him forward. His feet barely touching the ground as he pushed forward, his every step frantic. He reached you within seconds, his pulse hammering in his ears. He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he gently touched your shoulder.

“Cutie?” he called, his voice cracking. His knees hit the sand as he reached you, and his heart twisted painfully at the sight. You were curled in on yourself, your arms hugging your knees, your face hidden. Tear tracks glistened on your cheeks, even in the dim moonlight, and your body trembled from the cold.

“Shit,” Rafayel hissed, his voice barely a whisper as panic surged again. You were cold, so cold. Damp from the wet sand, your skin pale as if the very life had been drained from you. He pulled off his jacket, draping it around you as gently as he could, his hands still shaking.

Why didn’t I see it? Why didn’t I see how badly she needed me?

He slid his arms around you, his heart aching as he pulled you into his lap, cradling you as though you might break into a thousand pieces. He brushed the strands of hair from your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he whispered your name over and over, praying that you would wake up. That you would hear him. “Fuck,” he breathed, feeling a wave of guilt crash over him. “What did I do? What the hell did I do…”

But he couldn’t. Not now. Now, all he could do was hold you, his arms wrapping around you protectively as he rocked gently, trying to warm you, trying to make everything okay.

“I’m here, okay? I’m here. I’m so sorry, cutie.” he whispered, his voice breaking. His mind raced, but nothing could erase the hollow ache in his chest. The thought of losing you, of failing you—he couldn’t bear it. He wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words tumbling from him like a confession he had never intended to make. “I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I messed this up, I—I’m here now.”

He clutched you tighter, trembling with the weight of his regret. The wind cut through the beach, but he barely noticed, too consumed by the sight of you—so still, so fragile, in his arms. His mind raced, scrambling for something, anything, to fix this

Your eyes fluttered open weakly, barely meeting his. You were too exhausted to respond, your body utterly spent.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice unsteady as he gently tucked his coat tighter around you. “I’ve got you. I’m so sorry.” His thumb brushed the tear-streaked curve of your cheek, his chest aching at the evidence of your heartbreak. “You shouldn’t be out here. It’s too cold...not like this. Not alone,” Rafayel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hands trembled as he tried to warm you, his arms sheltering you from the relentless chill of the wind. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve—” He broke off, his throat tightening painfully. Words felt so useless now, but he couldn’t stop them. He needed you to know. “I’m the biggest idiot in the world. I forgot something so important, something that should’ve been at the center of my mind.” His arms slipped beneath you, lifting you effortlessly despite your protests—if there were any.

Your lips moved faintly, but the sound was lost in the cold wind. He leaned closer, his ear near your mouth. “What is it? I’m here. Please... say something.”

“I thought... maybe you'd care,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. The words struck him harder than any physical blow ever could. He felt the sting in his chest, his breath hitching as guilt twisted the knife deeper.

“I do care!” he exclaimed, his voice desperate. “More than anything. I was just... I was so caught up in everything else, and I—I didn’t realize how much you needed me. How much you’ve always been there for me. I messed up, cutie. I know I did.”

You shivered against him, and he shifted to shield you better from the biting wind. “Let me take you home,” he pleaded, his voice softer now. “We’ll fix this. I’ll fix this. I’ll make it right, I swear.”

For a long moment, you didn’t respond, and his heart hammered in his chest. Finally, you gave the faintest of nods, your head resting against his chest. You shivered in his arms, your eyes fluttering shut again, too drained to muster a response. Panic surged in Rafayel as he felt how cold your skin was against his. He shifted, standing with you carefully cradled in his arms, his coat wrapped tightly around you.

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice urgent but soft. “I need you to hold on, okay? Just a little longer. Let’s get you somewhere warm.” He pressed his cheek to your temple for a moment, as though the simple touch might reassure you—and himself—that you were still here with him.

Rafayel didn’t waste a second. He scooped you up gently, careful not to jostle you. The warmth of his jacket wrapped around your frame and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat seemed to soothe some of the tension in your body. He murmured quiet reassurances as he carried you, his voice a constant presence in the cold, empty night. His normally cocky demeanor had shattered into shards of raw vulnerability, replaced by a frantic urgency to get you home—his home. Your breathing was shallow, your limbs slack in his hold, and every uneven step he took felt like walking a tightrope with everything he valued most precariously balanced in his grasp. He adjusted his hold, cradling you tighter against his chest. “Look, I know I’m an idiot sometimes. Fine, most of the time,” he admitted, his words a jumble of nervous energy and shaky humor. “But this isn’t the time to prove me wrong, alright? Just hang on a little longer. I’m taking you home.”

By the time you reached the studio, the candlelight had dimmed, but the room still held the warmth of the love you had poured into it. Rafayel carried you inside. By the time he reached the threshold of his room, his shirt clung to him, drenched from sweat and your tears. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, careful not to jostle you, and hurried inside.

The room was cold and dimly lit, the heater long dormant. He set you down on the bed, fumbling with the blankets to cocoon you in their warmth. Your body trembled, and his chest constricted as he watched you stir faintly before slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, barely audible at first, as if the walls themselves might condemn him. Then louder, more desperate, his voice cracking. “I’m so damn sorry. I was stupid—so, so stupid. I should’ve seen this coming. Should’ve kept you safe. Should’ve—” He stopped himself, biting down hard on the inside of his cheek to stifle the sob building in his throat. His eyes flickered between his usual hues and that unearthly blue every now and then.

His hands hovered over your face, fingers trembling as he brushed damp strands of hair from your skin. “You’re too good for me, you know that? Too good for someone who screws up as much as I do. But I promise—” His voice broke, the words spilling out in a frenzied rush. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. Il love you, cutie. I love you so much.” And then, because even in his rawest moments he couldn’t help himself, he added with a weak, self-deprecating chuckle, “I am lucky I’m this charming, or I don’t think you’d ever put up with me.”

He turned on the heater, pacing back and forth as he muttered under his breath, berating himself in every way he could think of, his brattiness peeking through as he cursed the broken world that had led to this moment. He glanced at you repeatedly, as if reassuring himself you hadn’t vanished, that you hadn’t slipped through his fingers.

When you stirred, your eyelids fluttering open, he froze mid-step. His usual confident smirk was gone, replaced by wide, guilt-stricken eyes. “You’re awake,” he blurted, his voice filled with relief but tinged with apprehension. “I know I screwed up,” he admitted quietly, his lips brushing against your temple. “But—seriously, who let you do this to yourself, huh? Oh wait, that’s me. Fantastic job, Rafayel. Bravo.” He huffed out a shaky laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sitting at your bedside. The words spilled out before he could stop them, over and over again. “I’m so, so sorry. This—this isn’t how it was supposed to go. You’re supposed to be mad at me, not like this. Not…” His voice cracked, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Then, almost instinctively, the mask of bravado slipped back into place. “But, hey, look at you, stealing my bed like it’s your right. I mean, sure, I offered, but still.” His smirk faltered, his voice softening. “You better not make a habit of this, you know? Making me worry this much.”

You shifted, your eyelids fluttering completely open, and the sight of your weary gaze meeting his nearly unraveled him.

“Raf?” Your voice was weak, barely audible, but it was enough to snap him upright.

“Hey, you’re awake!” He forced a grin, though it couldn’t hide the guilt pooling in his eyes. “Good, because I was just about to start serenading you with an apology song. Don’t ask for a refund… the lyrics are terrible.”

You tried to sit up, but he was on you in an instant, gently pressing you back down. “Whoa, whoa, no sudden moves, alright? Just... stay put for once. Let me handle it for a change.”

"Handle what?" you asked, your voice edged with exhaustion and confusion.

His grin wavered, giving way to something more honest, more afraid. “Everything. All of it. I... I screwed up, okay? I’m the idiot who let you get like this, who didn’t see—who didn’t stop—” His words tangled, and he exhaled sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry, and I’ll keep saying it until you believe me. Or, you know, until you tell me to shut up. Whichever comes first.”

Your lashes fluttered weakly again, and a barely audible sound escaped your lips. “...Rafayel...?”

His heart soared and broke all at once at the sound of your voice. “I’m here,” he said quickly, leaning closer so you could hear him clearly. “I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

Tears welled in his eyes as you looked up at him, your gaze heavy with exhaustion and something he couldn’t quite name—hurt, maybe, or disappointment. It cut him deeper than any blade ever could.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice a choked whisper. “I know that doesn’t fix this, but I swear, I’ll spend every moment making it up to you if you let me.”

For a moment, silence hung between you, broken only by the hum of the heater and the soft whistle of the wind outside. Finally, you whispered, your voice trembling, “I waited...”

“I know,” he whispered, his tears falling freely now. “You shouldn’t have had to. You deserve better than that, better than me—but I’m begging you, please give me another chance. Don’t give up on me yet.”

Finally, your voice, though weak, broke the quiet. “You forgot... something that meant so much to me.”

Rafayel’s throat tightened, but he nodded, accepting your words. “I know. And I’ll spend as long as it takes to make it up to you. I’ll show you how much you mean to me. I love you,” he whispered against your skin, the words soft but raw with sincerity. “More than anything. More than I can even say. I don’t deserve you, but… please, let me try. Let me make it up to you.”

“Don’t leave me,” he repeated, his voice a breathless whisper, “Not like this.” His voice cracked on the last word, and for a moment, you could see the mask slip—just for a second. Rafayel was scared. Scared of losing you. Scared of failing you. It was the one thing he had never let you see, the one thing he kept locked away in the deep recesses of his heart, but now, it was clear as day.

As you looked at him, something shifted between the two of you—an understanding, perhaps. You could see his desperation, the way he clung to the edges of his composure, trying to hide the vulnerability he never allowed anyone to witness.

I thought... I thought this was everything I could give. Everything I could be..." your own voice cracking.

He shook his head again, his grip never loosening. “You’re so much more than all of this. I’ve been blind, cutie. And now I can see it—see you.” He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if to erase every doubt that had taken root there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for making you feel invisible.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, the tears still staining your face, but the weight of his words was a strange kind of relief. He was here. He saw you now. The storm of emotions inside you hadn’t dissipated, but his presence, the raw sincerity in his voice, made you feel something close to safety.

Rafayel kissed your forehead softly, the gentle pressure of his lips a tender promise. “I’m here, cutie. And I’ll do everything I can to make this right. You won’t feel invisible again.”

You nodded slowly, the tears still flowing, but there was a flicker of hope, however faint. "Just... don't forget again," you whispered.

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice firm, but his eyes were full of vulnerability. "I won’t. Never again."

You didn’t respond immediately, your eyes closing as if you were too weary to respond. But when Rafayel reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, a faint squeeze answered him. It wasn’t forgiveness, not yet, but it was enough—a thread of hope that he clung to with everything he had. For now, you didn’t pull away, and that was a start.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[thesacrificialdove]

THE BITCHING PROJECT

[ patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms ]

— it's like you were secretly asking for this !! degration kink, rough sex, dubious consent, deflowering, light dumbification, semi-public sex, manipulation ✧ ft.: yandere student council ✧ cast: nerd f!reader

His hand grasps your hair as you choke around his girth. There's tears brimming in your eyes. Anxiety and confusion are washed away by the growing arousal in your stomach—this isn't normal. You've never been treated like this before. He's using your mouth like a ragdoll.

"Fuck," he moans, obsessing over the way your unexperienced tongue lays flat on the underside of his cock. "Such a good fucking bitch. How does it feel with your nose buried in my cock and not some books, huh?"

Nothing prepared you for the way this man is in the dim light: he's unlike his smile like a warm setting sun, hands tender to the brief passing touch, and voice an echo of hope and cheer.

He's fucking your throat like it's his newest assignment. Studiously, he memorises the plump of your lips and the heat in your throat. There's something primal yet meticulous about how he thrusts into your mouth. It's like he's thought this over and over again.

Your hands struggle for grip on his hips; he won't relent in his pace. Dizziness presents as you can't think straight—his cock the only thing that you can think of.

A guttural moan leaves him. "Can't believe you'd fall for some s-stupid shit like this. Now you're all fucking mine—" he pulls out, the head of his cock on your lips—"you like that, huh? Like belonging to me? I'll make you forget about your classes and I'll keep your cunt strapped on my cock instead."

There's a string of saliva that connects his cock to your lips. He plays with it, having fun smearing it all over your chin. The humiliation is tattooed in your brain.

You agreed to meet him because the Dean planned to give you the scholarsip—something you've been working so hard for. It's a lie. How could you have known someone from the student council would lie to you just to get their dick wet?

"Hey, hey," he pulls you up, sitting you on a desk. "What are you thinking about, baby? You're thinking too hard. Come on, I know you feel good."

And you do. Because after all of this, you still got a big fucking crush on him.

"S-stop it, please," you try to say. "I'm... I'm sorry if I did anything wrong but—"

He laughs. "You did nothing wrong. I love you, I do. But you're just to gullible. You have to know how adorable you look when you think everything you want is going to be handed over to you on a plate."

Red paints your face. Your heart churns at his words but he's standing between your legs with his cock wetting the inside of your thighs. Your cunt is being exposed with an easy pull of your panties to the side. The conflict of arousal and humiliation is too much to handle.

"How about this, hm? I'm going to fuck you better and tomorrow, let's see you beg for the Dean's cock to get that scholarship?"

There's contradictions on your tongue. It's taken out of you when he pulls your hips—his cock sliding between your folds and fucking you raw.

"F-fuck!" You cry. It's too big. His cock stretches you more than your fingers ever had, easily breaking the littlest resistence your hymen had. It makes you cry. Your heart hammers against your ears. It pulses in time with your cunt convulsing around him.

He's breathing against your cheeks; with the way he's out of breath, it's like he's enjoying taking your virginity like this. "Holy... fuck—did you never have a guy in here before?" he asks, as if he needs confirmation. "You're so fucking tight. I need you to loosen up for me, babe."

Not a single effort was made to get you to relax. He pulls back and fucks you right in, ignoring your pained little whimpers as it's being overshadowed by your moans. You're conflicted but he's so assured. Though your brain runs wild, your pussy sucks him in and is getting wetter by the second.

"So fucking good," he moans. "Tight fucking slut for me."

"I've never—agh! Never... had—!"

He chuckles as he bruises your hips with his hold. "I can fucking tell, baby. Shit. I can feel your cute little pussy hug my cock so tight. You love it so bad, don't you? I bet you fucking waited to be defiled by a cock this big."

You can barely muster a breath, nonetheless a word to deny him. It’s cruel how he pistons his hips. Your legs are in the air, toes clenching as half of his cock barely breaches inside of you. You’re gripping him with a vice, the pain dulling with the hot moans he breathes through your skin.

“God, that’s it,” his mouth instinctively opens as he spreads your folds open. Your pussy is spread. on the girth, his eyes trained onto where his cock disappears inside of you. You can tell he’s lost himself in the sensation when he has to swallow down his own spit.

He’s moaning, a growl emitting from him when you squeeze him. “Loosen the fuck up!” His hand presses against your stomach, trapping you on the wooden desk. “God, shit. For someone eager to take a cock in you’re so not prepared.”

The new angle just rubs your g-spot. A strangled moan involuntarily leaves you, his response being a dark grin spreading on his face. Knowing now, he continues to rubs up that spot. You want to pull your legs together but it’s tightly locked in his grasp. Toes curling, you tense up as he thrusts faster inside of you.

“S-so…” you gasp, hands gripping the edge of the table as you move with the force of his thrusts. “So fucking—so fucking good, haaah..!”

With each thrust, you lose yourself to the pleasure. Your cunt perfectly welcomes him in, even sucking him inside just to keep it rubbing against those nerves. You don’t remember a time feeling this good. The stretch is almost gone. Broken cries of pleasure are being punched out of you. He’s merciless and chases his own high, yet you’re being dragged along as you feel yourself soak and leak.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “I knew you’d love being fucked by me. I’ve been…. shit! I’ve been seeing you shake your cute little ass since you came. here. Knew you were so desperate to be claimed by me.”

He groans low in his throat. Swiftly, he throws your legs together on one side of his shoulders, fucking his cock deep inside of you. The new angle reaches further, your legs shaking from the intense feeling of being used like a toy for him. Your pleasure is undeniable. If you could see yourself, you would see your wet cunt drooling as your face is molded into a face of intoxication.

You can’t help it anymore. The slow yet deep thrusts spreads tingles from your pussy to the rest of your body. “‘m close…” you mutter, struggling to find diction. “So close—hng!”

“I didn’t hear you, “ he pulls on your hair from the roots, tugging it with enough force to electrocute your nerves there. “I can’t fucking hear you with your pussy gushing all over me.”

Cheeks turning a bright red, you try to cover yourself as he thrusts deep and short for emphasis. You can hear yourself make wet sounds with each movement. His words only make you wetter.

Trying to gather yourself, you take a deep breath with a hand over head your head. “I wanna cum, I need it so bad please… Need to cum on. your cock so b-bad!” You cry, surprised you could even form words when all you can think. about is that hot rod inside of you.

He’s forgiving. “Good fucking girl,” he sighs in relief as he continues his animalistic thrusts. The desk creaks each time and you would be worried for its durability if not for his hand lowering to play with your clit.

“Cum for me, cum for your new owner.”

The cock breaching your once-virgin pussy and the your clit being fondled only ushers you closer and closer to an orgasm. You couldn’t even warn him. With both hands reaching for his shoulders, a moan leaves you so loud you’re so everyone in the hallway could hear you.

You’re shivering. Your body is worn out and his cock pulls out of you—your orgasm flowing out as his own spurts on your face to your neck. He had clumsily aimed at your face, the angle awkward with your body half sat on the table. But the liquid splashed to your a bit of your lips, the taste of his release odd yet so erotic.

“Shit,” he mutters, the relief washing over him. You can see the satisfaction in his face; the slight upward tilt of his smile, the heavy breathing, his eyes examining every part of your body, all of it a testament to his amusement to having just defiled you.

There’s no need to speak. Finally, for the first time, he pushes his lips against yours.

In your years living, you haven’t given away your first kiss. In this moment, he had successfully taken two first times with you. His kiss reflects his previous desire to make his mark in your cunt. Breath hot, he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and is determined to lick every part of it.

You’re weak in his grasp. Every limb is numb and your pussy is still tingling. He’s kissing you how he wants as you simply struggle to breathe correctly. Your head is dizzy. There’s a cloud within your thoughts, simply unable to comprehend anything that is happening.

With a bite to your lower lip, that grounds you back to reality. He laughs into the kiss before placing his lips on your neck.

“So fucking dumb now,” he laughs, “don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you’ll get a reward for servicing my cock.”

Being his broken-in slut doesn’t seem so bad.

UPDATE ! 📢 @wiltedpoison @elloredef @alureasoley

@ 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 this story is original and is not allowed to be shared without credits. do not plagiarise, feed to ai, or claim as yours.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What if... Batsis with a oral fixation ⁉️

Not in a kinky way but like a stimming way, I have autism irl and I chew and bite on stuff to help get some feelings I'm not a fan of :P

Also I bite people I trust cuz Ik they won't mind or rlly judge me for it so what if batsis bites Grayson cuz she trusts him or somethin 🤯⁉️

A/N: So babes...i'm sorry this took a while. I was out of it for a while...I cannot stop biting my loved ones either...it's rough out here, really.

Characters: Dick, Tim, and Jason

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Dick wouldn't really mind it, I don't think?

Maybe at first he's like..."what ya got there..?" and it's just a whole chunk of his arm in your mouth.

He has a look of both concern and amusement on his face because well...this is a first.. But if he's aware of your usual oral stims and how you are constantly chewing or biting at something, I think he wouldn't question it further. It's easy to put two and two together, y'know.

But the fact that you only do it to him and maybe to the other siblings is enough for him to be okay with it. It makes Dick feel extremely special and dare I say honored to be a human chew toy. Dick adores anything that you do, especially if that thing is specifically because you trust him.

I think it'd be super cute having you hold onto his arm while ya'll are chilling on the couch. Maybe watching a scary movie, and because you're getting stressed so the entire time you are just gnawing on his bicep...poor guy. Lol but he actually doesn't even notice it after a while of you constantly doing it.

Like he's chatting with Babs and here comes your evil little teeth all ready to sink into his skin.

The only time I think he's be against it if he's super sweaty and gross or is trying to concentrate on something important....otherwise,,go ham.

But would I be crazy if I say his hair when it's long is perfectly chew-able.... like pleassseeeeee rachellll give it to meeee

I can imagine him giving you some of his bracelets to chew on. I imagine he wears these string bracelets and they are perfect chewing material.

*you have almost bit his entire finger off...*

Jason would be a bit turned off from it.

He's not particularly keen on you biting him. It doesn't feel good, it maybe even a bit irritating or stressful for him. This is not to say he thinks that your fixation needs to go but he'd rather you do it to anyone else instead.

Maybe he'll give you one of his old jackets for you to chew on. it's perfect, he got it cleaned and it has tons of tabs and buckles for you to chew. That way you can still have something of his to fixate on without necessarily bothering him. It does kind of warms his heart when you choose his items to stim with tho. It's assuring that he's still able to help ground you even if it's in a different way....

Tim..does not care. Like the most he does is just give you a strange look, then goes back to whatever he was doing prior.

You aren't hurting him, nor is he irritated so who is he to force you to stop. It's clear that you are overwhelmed and needs something that'll help you make it through soo have fun, sis.

He never directly addresses it either. It's just a thing that he accepts.

Maybe if you are chewing on the him of his shirt and your saliva is causing it to get rather wet and slightly uncomfortable, he'll just go change the shirt and give it to continue doing your stimming with.

I feel like Tim just had random chew-able trinkets around his room too, maybe even keeps tough gummies or lollipops around as an alternative for you.

[morose-melodies]

what ever happened to (y/n)? | reader x yandere! capitano

summary: you ran off into the woods and were never the same.

contact warning: reader has a breakdown??? I'm not sure

you were once lively. you were affection - and you were the sweetest woman the captain knew and for that very reason, he loved you.

you were so many loveable things but now, you were a shell of your former self. you were always sulking, always so silent and the captain grieved the loss of who you once were.

he still loved you but he missed you dearly.

things just haven't been the same since you ran off into the woods that one night.

it wasn't as if you had ill intent, the captain knew you, surely you were going out to enjoy yourself for the evening but perhaps you got lost and couldn't find your way back.

whatever happened during those two days alone in the woods had changed you.

the captain would forever hate himself for not finding you sooner; for not saving you in time. if only he had gone with you, perhaps things would have turned out differently.

"(y/n)," there was a knock on your door, a gentle one, so as to not startle you. you wouldn't reply, or tell him to come in but you've been so jumpy as of recently, that it only felt right to knock.

after a moment, he opened the door and stepped inside. you slept comfortably in the middle of your large bed, accompanied by many fluffy pillows to keep you comfortable.

sleeping was the only time you seemed at peace.

the captain would give anything for you to be at peace again, anything.

slowly, the captain stepped forward and sat at the edge of your bed, watching as you rested.

and everything the quiet.

and it was peaceful. the captain wondered what you dreamt of. the beast? him? of your old life?

not that any of it mattered, no, not when you arose abruptly, screaming, throwing yourself off of the bed, trying to escape, as if he were some beast.

the captain stood, "(y/n)," the captain called out, "it's me, I'm no beast," he tried to talk sense into but you seemed out of him, blinded by your terror.

you ran to the door without hesitation, screaming for help as you ran through the dark halls and down the stairs. the captain remained where he stood - he did not want to make matters worse.

oh (y/n), the captain grieved, he missed you dearly.

there was no one to help you, no, all the staff had gone home for the weekend but you were unaware of that.

"please! help me!" you wailed, stumbling down the staircase and to the front door, grabbing the door knob you were met with resistance, "help! there's a monster! it's here, it's here! it'll-"

the captain slowly stepped down the staircase and watched as your face contorted into a look of absolute horror, the screams that came from you pierced his ears.

perhaps if he had done things differently, this wouldn't have happened. perhaps if he had done things differently, you wouldn't have felt the need to run off into the woods.

oh (y/n).

"(y/n)," he repeated once more, remaining at the bottom of the staircase, refusing to step closer, refusing to make matters worse, "you're safe."

you slumped down against the door, cowering. you tried to guard yourself, protect yourself from what was soon to happen. surely the beast would eat you this time.

"please. please don't-"

"I'm not going to hurt. I would not do that to you," the captain tried to assure you but he doubted his words held any weight.

"please... please... don't."

"do you not recognize me, (y/n)? I'm no beast, I am capitano."

that caught your attention. lifting your head, you looked at him, acknowledged you, and saw him. it was capitano, no beast.

slowly, with trembling legs, you stood and and approached the captain, collapsing in his arms and the captain held you.

he missed you.

he missed this.

and he wanted you back.

you, who you once were.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii! Could you write a one shot with both Caracalla and Geta? The idea is that the reader is their favorite concubine (or legit their wife idk if that's how it works lmfaooo) but she's a witch? Like she's an oracle or something, they keep her around because she brings them luck and what not (they also kinda love her but they're both insane so...)

No worries if you don't want to write this!

The oracle of the emperors

Geta/Caracalla x witch!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, power inequality, kissing, mention of smut (light smutish), family issues

Summary : In times of war, one had to resort to everything, be it rationing, ambushes, burning or fetching the walking omniscient shadow from the alleys of Rome. An oracle surrounded the two emperors and was so much more to them than just a surrogate for the gods.

info : I love the idea, almost an au in Gladiator (maybe more someday) thanks for the request and have fun reading :)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rome was a world city, an empire for decades no for centuries, it would outlast all time. Everything would fall to make way for the glorious holy roman empire and no one would stop it, no country, no army, you just had to keep conquering and conquering.

An idea, a thought, a dream that had burned itself into the minds of the two emperors - they wanted more, had to and needed more. The reign of Geta and Caracalla was to be glorious, but the body cannot bear what the mind dreams of, especially not when its own warlord threatens to withdraw.

You can't keep a man from dying for a lifetime without risking his downfall, a fact that the two also saw...but if the fighting force failed, what could be done to win more easily and quickly?

Gods, oracles and witches, the supernatural, that which could see more than only man could see.

Since the conquests, the oracles had only predicted victories, but why did more and more bases go under, why did the harvests come to an end and why did the emperor's gold seem to dwindle?

Wrong answers were punished with death and the temples remained mostly empty, the only thing that was known to help was the shadow of Rome, the woman who was found before she was even looked for.

Her figure emerged from the streets wrapped in the dark fabric, the rustling of the small bones in her pouch accompanying her as the people looked at her in awe, as much as she was feared she was revered, ,,The sound of water will bring you a poet, just as these bones of death brought me to you...my honorable emperors” she greeted them as she came up the stairs to the palace and saw the golden gods in human form.

Of one she had dreamed his gold would cover the Senate like blood that would not stop flowing and the other she had seen an agonizing spirit that would perish along with all of Rome.

,,You will be placed in our service, no harm shall come to you as long as your words are of use to us,” Geta assured her as he showed her a bedchamber larger than anything she had ever had and still needed some work, for as much as she saw and heard them all, she knew how to interpret the looks in their eyes.

And the looks of the brothers were full of desire.

After a very short time she was surrounded only by the two of them, hardly any other servants or concubines, the campaign was victorious as she had predicted, but her warning also came true.

It only took a full moon for the “poet” to arrive inside the palace and she saw the amused look on Caracalla's face as he grabbed her hand, ,,You predicted it!” he said, and his brother looked at her, a look she took as respect.

When they were with the brothers during the day, she was with Geta, his hand at her side, the human god who wanted to be closer to Olympus through her, ,,You belong to me, here, in the Senate and out there,” he reminded her whenever they took up political matters.

Dark eyes with make-up looked at her whenever she moved the figures on the map, whenever she whispered her proposal to him in the senate and when he drew her to his bedchamber.

Why should she say no? Even a fool would have slept with the most powerful man whose voice was almost as intoxicating as his body, his kiss intense he wanted this power she had, his gold soon adorning her too, gifts in the hope that she would stay with him, touches of lust, he desired her power and beauty until the day she asked the question.

The fire turned bluish and she heard the cry of a monkey asking him, ,,You speak of belonging but this mine, is it none of your brother the Emperor Caracalla's concern?" a question that drove him from her, his face became incredulous and she saw the disbelief in his eyes.

He felt betrayed.

A betrayal she thought he would spear away, but her last prediction that this mine would mean his end must have frightened him, frightened and almost more God-given.

The gifts of gem and gold he made sure she wore, as much as he tried to hold it back she belonged to one god and not two at the same time.

Geta would spend hours in the temples, making people feel at ease and being addressed as a god. it was during these days and weeks that the monkey Dundus would often run up to her and she would see the uncertain look on Caracalla's face.

As much as he was fascinated, he was also afraid of her, ,,Witches are a bad omen...but you helped us,” the younger one said as he ventured into her room and watched, curious about what she was doing there.

Instead of luring him with physical devotion like his brother, she put a motherly smile on her lips, ,,Look even I can make fruit dance” she lured him and he sat down on her chair while she instructed him to close his eyes, she mixed a few simple tinctures and dripped them on the grapes.

A simple reaction of plants, but for Caracalla, who clapped his hands in delight, it was worth almost as much as the whole of Rome, ,,You see, I can't be angry at all, my sweet king,” she murmured to him and hugged him carefully, an embrace he wanted more and more from then on. during the day she belonged to Geta, who soon ignored her warning.

Why listen to a witch when he was a god? The jewelry covered her body, his love visible on her body and at night she took care of the younger one, so much pain and suffering as she held him like a child who would soon take advantage of her when his madness took over, ,,His gold, his jewelry but you're mine, aren't you? I need you alone, not shared,” he ordered, fingers clutching hers helplessly.

A question she answered with a kiss and the game between the two emperors continued to grow daily. The bones in her bowl became more and more when she made new predictions and she went from a god to a delusional one whenever one of them needed her.

Gold and make-up adorned her body and whenever Geta and Caracalla met it seemed as if Rome was on the verge of collapse.

In the midst of this they stood, the most influential authority taking on the two emperors while Rome changed around them, brothers not seeing that the shadow had closed in around them when the first thought had fallen upon them.

She felt at home in the madness of the two and the threads that held everything together, because no one could separate such a love. Yet to everyone else outside the palace she was nothing more than the concubine of the brothers Emperor Geta and Caracalla.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[dreamscapeee222]

Hello!! I would absolutely LOVE if you wrote arcane charecters x chronically ill reader. I have Gastroparesis. Which makes me use a feeding tube. So I beg you to add in the feeding tube 🙏 and how each charecter would show their love!

A/n: Thank you for sharing that ^^ Of course I'll write that!! I hope this suited what you had in mind.

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi is fiercely protective and understanding when it comes to your health. She notices if you’re feeling weak or uncomfortable and doesn’t hesitate to step in.

She’ll always help with your feeding tube routine, making sure you’re settled in a comfortable spot before administering it. "I’ve got you, don't worry," she’ll assure you, brushing hair from your face.

She’s practical about it—keeping spare supplies, making sure you stay hydrated, and will constantly remind you to take it easy.

At times when you’re feeling too tired, she’ll wrap you in her arms, her strong frame offering support, whispering, "You're stronger than you think."

Jinx

Jinx is a whirlwind of chaotic love, but when it comes to you, she’s surprisingly gentle. She'll be curious about your feeding tube, but in a way that doesn’t make you feel weird.

"So, that thing’s like... a superpower thing, right?" she’d say with a playful grin, but her tone softens when she sees how much effort it takes for you.

She’s the type to give you little gifts to make your routine easier, like a fun cover for your tube or bright, colorful tapes to decorate it.

During moments when you feel down, she’s quick to cheer you up, distracting you with her antics or hugging you close and saying, "I’m here, you’re not alone."

Caitlyn

Caitlyn notices when you’re feeling drained or when the tube is affecting your mood. She’s incredibly empathetic, always offering quiet support and space when needed.

"Do you need anything? I’ll be right here," she’d ask in her calm, soothing voice, always so attuned to your needs.

She’ll take care to make sure you're always comfortable, adjusting your position if you need it, and making sure you have everything you need nearby.

Caitlyn loves having quiet moments with you, often reading or doing work while you rest, her hand gently resting on yours in a silent show of affection.

Ekko

Ekko is understanding without being overly serious. He’s always looking for ways to make things easier for you, like fixing up gadgets to make your life more comfortable.

"I can help with that. You don’t have to do everything yourself," he’d say, offering to handle your tube when you’re too tired.

He loves to remind you that you’re still the same person, no matter what you’re going through. He’s the type to surprise you with small, thoughtful acts, like grabbing your favorite snack (when you’re able to eat it) or just making sure you get enough rest.

Ekko’s constant reassurance—"You’ve got this. We’ve got this."—is his way of showing you that you’re not alone in facing your challenges.

Jayce

Jayce can be a bit clueless at first, unsure of how to help, but he quickly learns to pay attention to your needs. He’s practical, always wanting to make sure your health comes first.

"I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out together," he’ll say, his voice steady and comforting when you’re feeling discouraged.

Jayce makes sure that you never have to worry about your tube or your routine. He’s always there to lend a hand, adjusting things if needed.

He’ll make sure you’re comfortable, even trying to do his own research on Gastroparesis, so he understands better what you’re going through, showing you his dedication in every little act.

Viktor

Viktor has an innate understanding of the importance of care, especially when it comes to your health. He’s methodical and precise, always making sure your feeding tube and medical routine are properly followed.

He’s never uncomfortable around it. In fact, he’s very gentle and patient, taking extra care when assisting you with the tube. "Let me handle this. You don’t need to worry," he’d say in his soft, reassuring voice.

Viktor loves moments of quiet closeness with you, sitting together as he works on his projects, while you’re simply there, resting beside him. He’s always very careful with his touch, whether it’s adjusting your tube or simply brushing a strand of hair from your face.

His love is expressed through his constant presence, making sure you’re never alone or struggling.

Mel

Mel’s compassion is deep, and when she sees you dealing with your feeding tube, she’s immediately attentive to your needs.

"I know this is hard, but I’m here for you," she’d say softly, always careful with your routine.

She treats your condition with the utmost care and respect, making sure that you’re always comfortable. Mel loves taking care of you in the most subtle ways, whether that’s adjusting your pillow or bringing you something comforting while you rest.

Her love is often expressed through small, intimate acts—bringing you tea when you're struggling or gently holding your hand when you need reassurance.

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 happy birthday

synopsis: it's a known fact that zoro can't stand his birthday... but when you finally discover the date, you can't help putting together something special

cw: nsfw (male & fem receiving), spanking, dirty talk, zoro's a little rough, some leather, some comfort, maybe a little ooc zoro but who gives a shit, reader + nami = trouble, usopp's a real og, reader can see visions, reader has black angel wings, both aren't really pertinent to the story but they're described, etc.

a/n: happy thanksgiving!

"Ladies, I need your assistance," you stated, plainly, approaching your two best friends—who were lounging on the deck chairs—and plopping yourself down next to them.

This was beyond urgent.

"Of course, (y/n)," Nami nodded, dropping her magazine in her lap and glancing up at you with an inviting smile. "What's up?"

"Is everything alright?" Robin asked, slightly concerned.

"Everything's... fine," you nodded, unconvincingly, actively trying to think up a way to explain. "I just... I did a thing... and learned something I probably shouldn't have... about Zoro."

'Huh?'

"About Zoro?" she raised a brow, now even more intrigued.

"Did he hurt you? Or say something stupid again?" Nami's gaze turned sharp, the woman sitting up rigidly in her seat, ready to go to war. "If he did, I swear, I'll wring his muscly-ass neck!"

"No, no! Not that," you quickly assured, shaking your head. "It's something from his past... from before he met me."

"What happened?" Robin asked, shutting her book, now fully invested. "From the start, if you don't mind."

You nodded, looking down at your lap and recalling the events of the last hour.

"I was doing my daily meditation on the roof of the crow's nest, y'know, like I always do, when I was suddenly hit with a vision," you started. "Now, it didn't come as harshly as the others typically do, so I assumed that it was going to be about something trivial. But that changed when a young Zoro suddenly came into view."

The women sat quietly, listening intently as they took in each word.

"He was training, super aggressively, mind you, when all of a sudden this group of kids comes running up to him asking when he was going to stop."

Crossing one leg over the other, you playfully rolled your eyes.

"Of course, Zoro being Zoro, said he wasn't gonna finish any time soon, but, and get this, the kids say But you're gonna miss your birthday party!"

Nami and Robin gasped, eyes widening slightly.

It was common knowledge that the swordsman wasn't very fond of birthdays—or rather his birthday, specifically.

Whenever asked about it, he often dodged the question, or just ignored it altogether, not bothering with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's chaotic antics in trying to get him to spill the beans.

Even you were unsuccessful, the man managing to smoothly redirect the conversation with the rough timbre of his voice, knowing it distracted you easily, along with other physical means.

Eventually, you gave up hope, seeing as you didn't even have a clue as to what season the day fell in.

But now... you had a date.

And it was today.

"I know he hates it, but I can't just sit on this," you whined, slumping in the chair. "Before, it wasn't like I could do anything because I didn't know when. But now that I do, I can't in clear conscience do nothing for his birthday..."

"I'm not sure," Robin sighed, quizzically. "There might be a reason why he doesn't celebrate. Maybe something bad happened and caused him to hate the day."

"Or maybe he's just being his typical, difficult self?" Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes before turning to you. "I think it's sweet that you wanna do something nice for him. And I know exactly what you need to do in order to make this the best day of his life!"

Confused, you watched as she leaned over, reaching under her chair and grabbing a book bound with rich, wine-colored leather, the image of a muscular man with extremely long hair and billowing shirt on the cover.

"A book?" you raised a brow. "Zoro's... not really a reader. Especially not something like this."

"No, silly. What's inside the book."

"Paper?"

"Romance."

With an exasperated sigh, she flipped through a couple pages, eyes lighting up when she found the page she was looking for.

"This novel is like a playbook on how to seduce a man," she happily handed it over, allowing you to skim over the text. "Follow that scene to the letter, and you'll have him counting down the minutes until his next birthday. I guarantee it."

"Are you sure?" your nose scrunched slightly at the cheesiness, confused as to why the author kept on mentioning the love interest's rippling pectorals. "This isn't really my style..."

"Trust me!" she grinned, giving you a soft pat on the back. "It's foolproof."

Glancing toward Robin for confirmation, she could only shrug, resting her hands in her lap.

"You know Zoro the best... Do what you think suits both you and him," she advised. "Even if that means trying something new."

Closing the book, your eyes found their way to the cover, your mouth fighting off the urge to stick out its tongue at the sight of the man's chiseled smolder.

He looked more like a girl than you...

"I'll take your word for it."

"(y/n)?" Zoro called, knocking on the door to the women's quarters before carefully pushing it open, slightly frustrated to find that you were, once again, not there.

Well, at least that eliminates the cabin...

Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned around, opting to shift his search toward the deck.

'Where the hell did she run off to?'

It was late, and the swordsman had been searching for the past twenty minutes, having already been through the kitchen, the dining room, the sick bay, the aquarium, the library, and the workrooms, with still no trace of you.

This, of course, was very odd considering you were usually within arms reach of him, the two of you seeming to just naturally float around each other, even as you did your daily routines.

Not only that, but also the fact that he hadn't seen you all day, seeing as Usopp dragged all the men along on a Boys Day Out.

Though, Zoro didn't understand why he felt the need to worry so much.

He knew a million times over that you were a strong and capable woman, and that if anything were to happen, you could more than adequately hold your own.

But for some odd reason, reminding himself of this fact wasn't subduing the concern spiking in his chest.

'Dammit...'

He had to find you and kill this feeling before he could think any deeper into it.

"(y/n)!" he called, looking around as he walked out on deck. "(y/n)!"

When he was no response, he simply tried again, not planning on stopping until you revealed yourself.

"Will you shut up?!" Nami groaned from her spot from one of the lounge chairs, brows furrowed as she looked up from her maps. "You sound like a lost little puppy."

Zoro rolled his eyes at her theatrics, turning to face her.

"Where's (y/n)?" he asked, curtly.

"She's in the crow's nest," the navigator stated, simply, turning her attention back to the papers strewn over her lap. "Said something about waiting for you... though I'm sure you're too busy ruining the peaceful atmosphere."

Sassily, she flipped one of the parchments over, lazily skimming over its contents.

"Mosshead..."

The man scoffed, expression turning sour at the obvious jab.

"If you'd told me where she was sooner, I wouldn't have shouted!"

"If you'd asked me where she was sooner, I would've told you!"

"Whatever!"

He turned away in a huff, walking over to the ladder and grabbing onto the cool metal.

"Good luck!" Nami called, cheekily, waving as he left. "You're gonna need it!"

"The hell?" he grumbled, starting his trek to the crow's nest, muttering to himself in confusion as he approached the top.

He would never understand her...

Hoisting himself up on the balcony, his brow quirked at the soft hum of music coming from the other side of the wall.

'Music?'

Confused, he listened closer, slowly beginning to make out the sound of a saxophone, which was playing over a smooth jazz background.

You never listened to music when you worked out, much less the sultry nonsense flowing through his ears.

And even though he could hear that, he had yet to hear you grunt out a rep, or rack a weight.

What the hell was going on with everyone today?

Curiosity piqued, he opened the door, eyes widening and heart dropping to his ass at the sight that met him on the other side.

Somehow, the crow's nest had been turned into some sort of makeshift love den, the lights dimmed and the mat area lined with lush pillows and fur blankets, candles illuminating the surrounding area and incense filling the room with a light haze, which smelled of sandalwood and jasmine.

And there, in the middle of it all, sat an angel...

Zoro's breath hitched, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of your naked form.

You were laying on your side, delicious curves on display in the smallest, tightest leather corset he'd ever seen, your tits practically spilling out the top.

Your hair, freshly washed, cascaded beautifully down your side, framing your face and slightly shading your eyes in a way that gave his hand an itch to tug it.

Not to mention your newly-lotioned skin glowing in the soft candlelight, making you look so smooth and soft and primed for grabbing.

And your dark wings only added to the appeal.

The soft music seemed to be coming from a small transponder snail in the corner, its eyes turned toward the wall in hopes of protecting its innocence from the events to come.

"(y/n)..." he started, both confused and painfully aroused, as he shut the door behind himself, locking it. "What're you doing?"

You faltered, an awkward expression settling on your face.

"Being... sexy?"

Zoro paused a moment, waiting to see if you'd change your answer, before breaking into a small fit of chuckles.

Instantly, your face flushed, embarrassment beginning to sink in.

You knew this was stupid!

"Don't laugh, you ass! I was trying to surprise you!" you whined, abruptly sitting up, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You found out it was my birthday today, didn't you?" he cut to the chase, stalking forward. "And then Nami put you up to this?"

The dots were all connecting.

Usopp keeping him off the ship.

You going missing.

Nami's odd comment.

You were trying to seduce him as a birthday present.

Not that he was complaining...

Your lip jutted out in a slight pout, your eyes avoiding all contact with the man as he moved closer.

"I know you don't like celebrating your birthday, but Nami gave me some book that was supposed to explain exactly what men want... and I figured you still deserved something nice..." you limply explained, turning away from him. "But, in hindsight, it was stupid..."

Sitting down in front of you, his pointer and thumb came up to hold your chin, turning you to face him, where you were met with a soft kiss on your forehead.

"It was sweet," he corrected, thumb smoothing over the skin of your cheek. "Even if you look anything but sweet right now... I can tell you put a lot of effort into this."

You perked up at the last part, turning to him eagerly, eyes glinting with hope.

"Really?" you asked, sounding surprised, your expression downright adorable.

Suddenly, the music, the clothes, and the absolutely tantalizing scent of you began to work their magic on him.

All of his thoughts and reason faded into thin air as he stared at your gorgeous, doe eyes.

"Really," he confirmed, voice low and wanting.

And you could only let out a tiny gasp before he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss wasn't soft or careful.

The kiss was rough; hungry; slow as he drew moans and gasps out of you.

He kissed you like he hadn't done so in ages, and you were starting to believe he hadn't.

His lips were soft, the taste of sake and mint on his tongue.

You let his hand move along your back and ass, roughly squeezing the flesh and making you moan.

Taking advantage over your open mouth, he slid his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping it inside in your mouth.

He grunted hungrily as your tongue began to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath.

The act made your pussy clench impatiently behind the leather, wanting to be touched and treated.

By him.

Zoro then pulled away enough to speak, eyes hooded and dark.

"Where'd you get this little number from?" he murmured hotly against your lips, calloused hands coming up to roughly knead your hips, feeling up the fabric under his fingertips. "Tell me."

One of his hands snuck down to squeeze your ass, and you let him, biting back a whimper in the process.

"W-Went into town," you softly stuttered. "Bought the outfit the girl was wearing in the book."

He started to line kisses all over your jaw, hungrily moving down to your neck; your collarbone; and your naked shoulders.

"Fuck," he growled into your skin. "Too damn good to be true."

His hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling.

"Been wantin' your fine ass since I walked in here..."

"You like it—?" The rest of your question doesn't leave your lips as he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you toward him, so close that air couldn't even move between you.

Your bodies were pressed flushed against each other, so close that you can feel the painfully hard bulge in his robe.

He was turned on by you.

He was really turned on by you.

That fact made you delirious.

His lips pressed against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth was beginning to turn raw.

He began to settle himself among the pillows and blankets, never breaking the kiss, before plopping down on the nearest, largest cushion.

Then, he gripped your hips and coaxed you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him.

Instinctively, you ground down into his hardening member, enlisting a groan from deep within his throat.

The sound traveled straight to your core.

You wanted more.

"I want you, Zoro," you sultrily whispered in a sudden burst of confidence, manicured hands gliding over his strong shoulders. "Please... I don't think I can wait."

To show how serious you were, your hands came up to undo the laces on your back, freeing your chest for him to see.

The shock in his steel gray eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he caught a full view of your perfect tits, sitting there just waiting to be touched.

"You little minx..." he chuckled, amused. "Lemme get a feel of you first."

You bit your lip as he leaned forward, laying you down against the brown, furry blanket before prying your legs open.

And there he got a good look of your sobbing wet pussy, the crotch of your leather suit having been cut out.

Eyes widening at the sight, he looked almost pained.

You were going to be the death of him.

"Christ, (y/n)..." he hissed, leaning down to get a better look, gaping at your sex. "You tryin' t'kill me?"

His eyes flicked up to yours, hands still on your thighs.

'Okay?' his eyes asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, unable to speak.

But that wasn't gonna slide.

Slowly, he began to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit, paying close attention to your reaction.

"Words, pretty," he growled. "Gimme words."

"Yes!" you moaned, toes curling at the feeling of his fingers on your cunt. "Please, Zo'... please touch me."

He gave you a wolfish grin at your pitiful whines, but didn't keep you waiting.

Swooping down, he captured your clit in his mouth, suckling and eating your pussy like a starving man.

He was relentless with his tongue slashed, flicks and long licks up and down your slit.

And you loved it.

Your hips writhed and whined against his mouth, trying to get him closer.

Your pussy pushed past his soft lips, which drew mindless shapes and nonsense words across your needy core.

"You're so wet," he mumbled into your pussy. "Doin' all this in your little suit turns you on that much, pretty?"

You moaned in response, unable to form words, especially when he reached one hand up to play with your breast.

And it only got better when Zoro began to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy.

"You want this?" he asked, voice nothing but a low growl.

You nodded vigorusly, pulling a laugh from the man's lips.

"So needy," he teased as he began to slowly slid his finger inside of you. "S'been a while since we fooled around... Have I not been takin' care of this pussy?"

"Y—!" you gasped, eyes blown wide as you felt your pussy stretch around three, thick fingers.

He aimed up to brush against your clit as he slid his fingers in and out of you, while also leaning down to suck on it, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You could feel yourself quickly beginning to reach your peak.

'No! Not like this!'

"Wait, Zoro!" you whined, writhing against him. "Not yet!"

He immediately ceased his movement and pulled away from you, glaring confusingly.

"'Scuse me?" he asked, not sounding happy with your protest.

You nearly laughed at his reaction.

"It's your birthday," you explained. "I'm 'sposed to be the one making you feel good. So lay down."

Zoro still looked pissed he couldn't make you cum, but listened anyway.

He laid down, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you moved to sit on top of him.

Slowly, you began to kiss and suck your essence off of his mouth, earning low groans from him

Your hands slid down to his broad chest and you gripped his robe.

"Off please?" you asked, peering up at him through your lashes.

You don't have to ask twice.

In a flash, he tugged his arms out his sleeves, pushing his robe and haramaki down to leave him in just his boxers.

You took a moment to admire his beautiful body—so hard and defined with muscle and scars, his lower stomach sinewy with green hair.

He was so, so gorgeous.

Slowly, you glided your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs.

"You're perfect," you whispered before leaning in to peck his scars, running your lips softly over each.

The low moans and mmms Zoro let slide out his mouth were delicious to you.

They only heighten your arousal, along with the music still playing in the background.

You never pictured yourself getting off on a scene like this, but you supposed it took the right person to bring the freak out of you.

Smoothly, you began to kiss down his hardened stomach until you came down to his boxers, which were already hanging low on his hips.

"Fuck, baby," he hummed, watching you work.

His lips were parted and his eyes were hooded, completely entranced by you.

Finally ridding him of his underwear, you began to think you bit off more than you could chew—or suck, rather—when you get a look at his cock for the first time in weeks.

Lately, between your training schedules and antics with the crew, the two of you had barely had a moment to yourselves.

But you never thought you'd forget how well-endowed he was, dick thick and curved slightly to the left, green hair curling around his stomach and pubic area.

"Hasn't been that long, has it?" he chuckled, teasingly, raising a brow. "You havin' second thoughts?"

"No..." you scoffed, cheeks puffed.

Not wanting to disappoint him, you opened your mouth and slowly began to slide his dick against your tongue.

"There we go," he cooed, relaxing into the blanket. "Good girl... take it all in."

You followed his instruction, your jaw and mouth stretching to accommodate his size.

"Mmm-hmm," you hummed around his cock, he vibrations causing him to moan.

You relished the sounds, wanting more, so you began to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out your throat.

You gagged and spat all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy.

And Zoro was eating up every second.

He tossed his head back as his eyes rolled in the back of his head, giving you sight that you took a mental snapshot of for a rainy day.

He was so, so sexy.

And to be able to make him feel good gave you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continued to fuck him with your throat.

"Doin' so good, baby," he grunted, rolling his hips into your mouth. "So good for me..."

But to your surprise, he suddenly pulled his cock out your mouth.

"But if I'm gonna cum, it's either gonna be on that pretty ass or those pretty' tits ."

You smirked, sitting up and lacing your hand with his, "How about inside?" you purred.

You'd already gotten the hook-ups from Chopper, though embarrassing, and were stocked full of necessary precautions.

And, of course, that was all you needed to say to get Zoro to smash his lips hungrily against yours.

"This gift jus' keeps gettin' better and better," he cheekily growled against your mouth, flipping you both over and laying you down on the brown fur. "Now choose how I'm doin' you before I do it for you."

Not wasting any time, you laid down on your stomach, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him as you moved a pillow under your hips.

You then looked back at him, only to find him sitting there and stroking himself to the sight of you.

"Like this," you whispered, breathlessly. "Fuck me just like this, Zo'."

Zoro was going fucking feral behind you, and it took everything in his being not to shove his entire length in side you as he began to move closer.

"God, look at you... stainin' the cushions," he sighed as he began to rub your pussy with his cock. "Sittin' nice and pretty just for me..."

Starting out, he went in slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him.

As soon as his tip entered you, your jaw dropped and your eyes blew wide from the stretch.

No one could ever compare to how warm and solid Zoro felt snuggled up in your pussy.

No one.

You were so glad you had the fur of the blanket to grip at he took a hold of your hips and bottomed out inside of you.

"F-Fuck, Zoro!" you whined, burying your face in the pillows.

He began to bump his hips against yours a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit.

"C'mon, now, pretty," he huffed. "Y'said you were my present, yeah? Be a good girl and take me then. Make me proud."

He moved to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your ass before giving it a harsh slap.

The feeling was just too much.

He was so deep.

Your eyes were seeing stars, ones that far surpassed the ones lining the night sky.

You had no chance to comprehend anything, too busy taking Zoro's fat cock as he fucked you into oblivion in your little leather, corset.

"Feels good, don't it?" he grunted in your ear.

One of his hands moved to smack your ass again, a wanton moan ripping from your throat.

"Bet you've dreamed about this," he growled at you. "Bet you couldn't wait until I got home tonight."

He leaned down toward you, his lips grazing your ear.

"Bet you've been waiting to get split on my dick for so long."

"Gods, Zoro, yes!" you screamed out to the heavens, fisting the blanket for dear life as he fucked you harder.

You'd never felt like this before; so gone.

Your eyes are closed and your mind is blank, only able to thing of the man towering above you, turned dumb by the waves of pleasure washing over you.

The pleasure was just too good, and you could feel it beginning to build in your core.

"M'gonna cum!" you practically sobbed, your head thrown back. "Zoro!"

The man let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, slightly hiking up his leg to get a better angle.

"Me, too," he grunted. "Want you to take it."

He pressed his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick hit that spot that had you seeing the entire universe behind your eyes.

"Fuckin' cum for me, pretty," he demanded. "Let me know how good I'm makin' you feel."

And you do.

Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that coil in your stomach finally snapped.

You unraveled, cumming all over Zoro's dick.

"Oh, my Gods!" you screamed, voice reaching the high heavens.

Your eyes spilled tears of ecstasy as he talked you through it, telling you how good of a girl you were as he stroked your outer thighs.

"Gonna cum, too," he grunted, hips snapping aganist your ass again and again as he chased his high. "You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?"

"Y-Yes!" you choked out, tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to make him feel good, too.

He gripped your hips for dear life and came deep inside you with husky, loud moan that made your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.

You took every ounce he had to offer, not once pulling away.

You could feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curled your toes and gasped at the feeling coursing through your body.

Finally, Zoro's hips began to slow until he finally came to a stop, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

But he wasn't done.

Still hard, he slid his head over your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum.

"So you smell like me," he grunted. "No other man'll even try."

You let out a weak, spent moan as your hips finally dropped, Zoro finally releasing his hold on you as he flopped to your side.

Grabbing you, he pulled your body into him, allowing you to snuggle into his side as he grabbed the blanket, wrapping you both in its warmth.

With the adrenaline now wearing off, and you so limp in his grasp, he began to worry, glancing down at you with a hint of concern

"You alright?" he carefully asked, slightly nudging you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

You slowly shook your head, still in a daze.

"That was amazing," you sighed, pressing further into his warm side. "Best I ever had..."

A proud smile stretched across Zoro's face, chest puffing slightly at the praise.

"So... did this make your birthday a little better?" you nervously asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Grinning, he gave you two kisses on your cheek, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your jaw.

"It did," he hummed contently. "By a hell of a lot more than a little."

Yes!

Internally, you gave yourself a huge high five, insanely proud that Mission: Mosshead was a success.

And now, you believed you deserved some snuggles in return.

"Cuddle with me?" you cooed, looking up at him through your lashes.

Zoro chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.

"Such a baby," he teased, securely wrapping his muscled arms around you, squeezing. "You're lucky I like you."

"Just like?"

"You know what I mean."

"I think I wanna hear you say it."

"I think I wanna take a nap."

"Zoro..."

"(y/n)..."

"Happy birthday."

"I love you."

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[demon-country]

#wiggles hands #i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!??? #and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was. and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE?? #puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn.

Wow. This... sure is a lot of extremely bad faith misinterpretations of those scenes. I'm going to address all of this step by step, I guess, because my dude, you are wildly off the mark on basically everything you accused Stolas of. So I hope you're ready, because this reply is going to be very long.

"#i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!???"

Yeah no, Stolas had every right to walk away, and was 100% justified in doing so. Maybe it wasn't entirely fair to Blitz, because on his end of things it looked totally different, but you already seem to understand what it looked like from Blitz's pov, so since we're talking about whether they equally fucked up or not, then I want you to step back from that and think about how it looked to Stolas, too.

Blitz did not respond to Stolas' confession with "hold the fuck on" or "what the fuck?" or "what do you mean?", nor did he do literally anything at all to suggest that he was confused or needed a moment to process what Stolas was saying. Blitz's immediate, snap reaction was to go "ohhh, okay you're fucking with me! This is an interesting roleplay, never done this one before but I can get into it. 'Ohhh, Stolas, I'll stay with you~! I love you sooo much~!'"

Perhaps you've never experienced this, but let me assure you that it is soul-crushingly awful to confess something important to you to someone you trust, only for them to completely write it off as a joke and/or make fun of you for it. It's extremely humiliating and feels like a deep betrayal, because you trusted them and were vulnerable with them, and in return all you got was mockery.

I've asked a number of real life actual people who have all, without fail, said that if that happened to them they'd end the conversation right there and walk away. Most of them, including me, said they'd leave just so they could go cry in private, and one said that they'd basically say "fuck you" and leave because they were pissed off. Stolas was the former. Take a moment to really, genuinely think about what your own reaction would be to having someone you love and trust make fun of you after you confess something important and vulnerable. It doesn't have to be a love confession, mine certainly wasn't, but do you honestly think you'd want to stick around after that?

So Stolas would have been justified in walking away just from that. He was very kind as he took his leave too and tried to bow out as gracefully as he could without causing a fuss, which is made all the more impressive because Blitz unintentionally triggered Stolas' trauma with the roleplay bit. Stolas has lived with Stella for 18 years at this point in the timeline, and part of how she abused him was humiliating him and mocking his feelings. He hides it decently well with Stella, because he's had decades of practice at this point, but we see in Ozzie's that being humiliated, especially in public, is a trauma landmine that Blitz tripped right onto. Yeah, he's going to leave, and it's not a fault that he does.

Moreover, you'll notice that Stolas doesn't kick Blitz out here or tell him to leave. He walks away further into the house, and yes he's probably expecting that Blitz will take it as an opportunity to bounce, but he does not tell him to go. Blitz could have waited as he took the moment he needed and thought things over, and then talked and asked whatever questions he needed to after Stolas came back. It was his bedroom and it was midnight, it's not like Stolas wasn't going to come back within the next couple of hours. Or Blitz could have left, thought things over, and come back. Instead, he followed after Stolas, which wasn't a great feeling for either of them, because Stolas was only barely staving off a breakdown and Blitz was getting hit in that abandonment trauma all over again, but Stolas walking off scared him so he acted on the impulse to not let Stolas get away. 

And he started off fine! Even though he was basically chasing Stolas, he wasn't angry or anything. He asked "wait, you were serious?! Hold on now, Stolas. What the fuck?" and Stolas did his best to answer even as he kept walking, rather than telling him to go away or kicking him out. His answer was poorly worded though and it set Blitz off, which is when we get to your next point.

#and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was.

???? How on earth did you reach this conclusion?? Of course Stolas would never teleport Stella outside like that. That's not respect, that's fear. It took everything he had to stand up to Stella the way he did, which we know because he collapsed as soon as she was gone. He was terrified of her; he was backing away while she approached and knew she was about to hit him. He was fighting back, yes, but you can tell from her reaction that he almost never has in the past. It had nothing to do with respecting her, because his normal response seems to be either standing there silently taking the abuse or shrinking in on himself while trying to placate her.

As for what happened in the ballroom, Stolas was triggered for the second time in just a handful of minutes, this time by Blitz slamming open the door and yelling. It says absolutely nothing about how much Stolas does or does not respect him that these actions triggered a trauma response in Stolas. Trauma doesn't work like that. Anyone doing that to Stolas would have made him panic, because when you're experiencing a traumatic reaction, even if you're somewhere safe with someone you implicitly trust, your brain freaks the fuck out.

It was in no way disrespectful to kick Blitz out, it was just Stolas going into extreme Flight mode. Blitz wasn't letting him leave and at the end even ran towards him (to apologize, but Stolas had no way of knowing that and Blitz was already half out the portal before he started to say sorry and didn't even finish it. Also, you hear Stolas very faintly saying he's sorry before the portal closes), of course he's going to force Blitz out! He didn't want a fight with Blitz like he had with Stella, because he wasn't angry, he just wanted to be alone.

"and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE??"

No, he really, really does not have to sit there and hear Blitz out. Stolas made it very clear in actual words that he did not want to see Blitz right then, because he was feeling too raw so soon after everything and Blitz was not giving him any space to breathe. And Blitz, once again, did not leave. He also, you'll notice, didn't force Blitz to leave, he just asked him to go, because this time he wasn't outright panicking. And even then, he kept giving Blitz chances to talk things out with him, showing that he wasn't dismissing Blitz.

Also, you're really telling me that you think a victim of domestic violence should be forced to stick around when someone is yelling at them? It doesn't matter if he "initiated things", that doesn't mean he's going to okay when someone starts grabbing and yelling at him. If Blitz was being calmer about it, and wasn't continually intentionally mocking Stolas and his feelings throughout that conversation (which, again, big trigger for Stolas, he's just hiding it better now because he was braced for it. Note that he's reacting a lot like he did when Stella was mocking him at the party) then I might agree with you. If Stolas had actually instigated the garden scene by telling Blitz to come over and then refused to listen while Blitz tried to explain, that'd be super fucked up. But Stolas didn't ask Blitz to come over, explicitly told him to leave because it hurt to much to talk to him right then, and Blitz was not being calm. Blitz was self-destructing and was being both clingy and aggressive, because he was scared of losing Stolas but was even more terrified of being vulnerable, and he habitually masks his fear with anger.

"#puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ."

Buddy. Dude. Stolas didn't actually spring this on Blitz. Blitz literally says at the beginning of the episode that he's been avoiding Stolas because he knows Stolas wants to talk, and he doesn't want things to become complicated. He knows things will change as soon as he actually talks to Stolas and that freaks him out, because in his mind it can't possibly be something good, and this fear is exacerbated by what Loona told him. He literally tells Fizz that Stolas does things to show he likes him, and multiple people have flat out told Blitz that he does, and Blitz can't believe that for multiple reasons, but this entire thing has been building up for months and he knows it. 

Stolas also did not spring his "feelings bullshit" on Blitz either, despite what Blitz claimed. It might have felt like it, because up until then he was in complete denial of those feelings being genuine, but Stolas has not been subtle, by any means. He has, in his and everyone else's minds, been showing Blitz that he cares about him at the very least as a friend, since this whole thing started. Even in fucking Loo Loo Land, despite him awkwardly trying to flirt with Blitz a couple of times, he doesn't actually try to start anything while they're there. He doesn't even seem to expect something sexual to happen between them at all, because he says he wants Blitz and his employees to come and immediately offers to pay Blitz with money, rather than sexual favors like Blitz anticipated. He's using it as an excuse to hang out with Blitz - because he's an idiot who didn't think about how uncomfortable it'd be for literally everyone involved, especially Octavia - and Blitz even knows that because he knows Stolas doesn't actually need one bodyguard, let alone three.

He invited all of them to the harvest moon festival because he thought it'd be fun, again with no expectation of anything sexy happening. He came to rescue I.M.P. with no ulterior motive, he just wanted to help them. He didn't ask for or suggest that he wanted sex in return for the save either, he just asked for a thank you in a very pouty voice because none of them thanked him, and Blitz turned things sexual, which he was happy to follow the lead on. He was super excited for the date, dressed up super fancy, proudly walked into Ozzie's holding Blitz's hand, tried over and over to talk to Blitz because he thought it was a real date, stood up to defend Blitz from Verosika (which Blitz didn't see and which he didn't get to follow through on, because Ozzie took that chance to go on the attack and publicly humiliate him), and even after that disaster he still invited Blitz in solely to hang out and maybe cuddle a bit.

He would ask Blitz to stay the night after they were done having sex instead of just kicking him out, which we see in the memory fragments. He called Blitz on the regular just to talk about his day and was frequently interacting with him on social media, both for approximately a year and a half. He was oblivious to how condescending his attempts at flirting were and had no idea how demeaning it was for Blitz until Blitz finally showed him how much all that hurt him (after Ozzie's), but he only was acting like that and talking that way because he genuinely believed that it was what Blitz wanted and was into, based on their first night together (doesn't excuse it, of course, but it was another way he was desperately trying to show how much he wanted Blitz).

For close to two years by the time The Full Moon rolled around, Stolas has been trying very hard and kind of ineptly to show Blitz he likes him, and at the very least wants to be real friends with him (that also have sex). Literally everyone who has seen them together knows how much Stolas likes Blitz, including Blitz despite him being in denial of it. He has tried again and again and again for nearly two years to show Blitz he cares about him and wants him around, and Blitz - for understandable reasons given his own trauma, history, biases, and hangups - has rejected him time and again. That's why Stolas was expecting Blitz to reject him following his confession. He expected Blitz to tell him to fuck off or to just take the crystal and run without looking back, but he didn't expect to be (unintentionally) mocked. He didn't expect Blitz, who he trusted, to humiliate him. Even without the trauma he has surrounding that, after all the other rejections of course Stolas is going to take Blitz mocking him as another rejection. He didn't think Blitz was confused, because he thinks he's made his feelings pretty damn clear for ages now, and that's why he said he had his answer and was trying to leave before he started crying - which most people hate to do, because crying in front of other people is often a mortifying experience.

"STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn"

He wasn't dismissing Blitz. He super fucking did not. He wanted to be alone so he could go cry his guts out, and Blitz was scaring him by getting angry and slamming open doors. That's not dismissing someone, that's going into panic mode. He wasn't treating him like a servant, if he was he would have been bored and unaffected and told him to go. He. Was. Scared. He was hurt and humiliated and scared and Blitz was chasing him down and yelling at him. It's not playing the victim to be scared and it's not playing the victim when your feelings get mocked and you want to get away from the person who just stomped all over your heart.

Blitz's reactions make sense from his end, and absolutely he was being triggered too - he was in fact the one triggered first, though that too was by accident. Yes, his anger was justified and he had every right to express it when he felt he wasn't being listened to. Yes, he wasn't intending to scare Stolas. Yes, Stolas has messed up and hurt Blitz in numerous ways over the course of the series. But my god, that does not mean that Stolas' feelings and reactions are any less justified and reasonable.

It was equal on both sides. They both equally fucked up. They both accidentally hurt and triggered each other. They both were scared. Stolas sending Blitz away was the only thing he could think of to de-escalate the situation, because Blitz was actively trying to pick a fight and Stolas had no idea that Blitz would stop just because he started crying (you think anyone else has ever stopped just because he cried? We literally see both Stella and Paimon mock him for it, and Stolas isn't exactly in a rational sort of mindset here).

Are you really, honestly, truly telling me that you would be fine just standing there and letting someone who just hurt you scream at you in a way that reminded you of both your domestic abuser and the person who recently tried to murder and mutilate you? Are you kidding me? You have completely misinterpreted everything Stolas has said and done in those two episodes by refusing to look at it with any amount of sympathy or compassion and immediately jumping to the worst possible scenario.

"Stolas shouldn't have portalled out Blitz during Full Moon" this and "Stolas should have stuck around and listened to Blitz in the garden during Apology Tour" that. Do y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that a domestic abuse victim stick around when someone is yelling at and insulting them? And on the flip side of that, do the other half of y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that someone, particularly someone from an oppressed group, never get loud or demonstrably angry just because it might scare someone?

Like Blitz had every right to air his grievances in Full Moon, and being angry when you're treated poorly is a perfectly normal, reasonable response. It's not inherently abusive to yell and stomp when you get mad, and it's completely unreasonable to say that Blitz is just because he did. But at the same time, Stolas does not have to sit there and take being yelled at when he's already had to suffer though someone doing it to him maliciously for at least 17 years. He does not have to take being grabbed, being screamed at, or having his clearly stated boundaries ignored either, like at the beginning of Apology Tour. Him getting upset when someone does that to him, when he's only just gotten away from his abuser and was almost murdered for it, is not some failing on his part or him playing the victim.

Blitz's trauma doesn't care that Stolas wasn't actually going to abandon Blitz, and it doesn't care that that the hurtful things Stolas has said and done have come largely from a place of ignorance rather than a lack of care. He's protecting himself the only way he knows how and is blinded by the sheer intensity and longevity of his self-loathing, but frankly it was a good thing for him to finally speak up about how some of the things Stolas does makes him feel, and it's a very good thing that he's actually trying to fight to keep Stolas rather than just booking it and throwing a grenade behind him on the way out.

Just like Stolas' trauma doesn't care if he knows Blitz is different than Stella and wouldn't actually hurt him, and it doesn't care that Blitz's anger comes from a hurt, scared, and traumatized place as opposed to the pleasure Stella took in hurting and scaring him. Stolas hasn't had any time to even begin to heal from the damage she did to him, and frankly if he's scared and breaking down like in Full Moon it's actually a step up if he's removing himself from whoever is triggering him, even if it wasn't fair to Blitz who was, in his own way, attempting to work things out.

Neither of them is the bad guy here, they're just very reasonably upset and having clashing trauma responses. You can be compassionate and understanding of both sides without saying that either of them should have to just sit there and take it when someone is greatly upsetting them. It's normal to get angry when you're scared and upset, and it's normal to cry and run away when you're scared and upset, and neither are wrong or bad just because in the moment when emotions were running high they each did several things that accidently set the other off, especially when they had no way of knowing it was a trigger beforehand.

None of this is say that the way things shook out was great or productive, and they definitely need to work on healing so that they're not letting their fear and trauma control them. If they're going to get to place of real understanding, then at some point these two need to sit down with the intent to talk things out and have an honest and open conversation with each other, without Blitz yelling or Stolas running or either of them letting their preconceived assumptions and biases get in the way of actually listening. Blitz needs to not self-sabotage and Stolas needs to not shut down, and that's going to be really fucking hard for both of them, because that's how they've been coping with their trauma for literal decades.

And to his major credit, Blitz got it right at the end of Apology Tour, the only thing he got wrong was the timing because Stolas was so drunk that I'll be honestly surprised if he remembers most of it in the morning. He wasn't in any state of mind to listen or pay attention, but at the same time, to his credit he's already been reflecting on what Blitz has been saying to him and trying to figure out where and how he fucked up and hurt Blitz. And also, he kept saying things like "right now", which means he will be ready to talk things out eventually if he's just given a little bit of space to put himself back together and think about things.

And guys, please. Just because some people will start crying to try to manipulate and guilt trip those around them whenever someone gets upset at something they did, doesn't make that what Stolas did. He was trying to get away so Blitz wouldn't see him cry. And just because some people like to fly off the handle and rage at every perceived infraction, doesn't make that what Blitz did. He had justifiable cause to be angry and in Full Moon he didn't think Stolas was listening, so he tried to make himself louder and bigger in an attempt to make himself be heard and his hurt be acknowledged. If one of their reactions made you uncomfortable, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that. But the story isn't about those kinds of people, it's about two fictional demons who aren't trying to hurt or manipulate each other, they're just struggling to juggle trauma, ignorance, and the desire to be together. They're not able to yet, but that's what character arcs are for.

And just to head off any comments on it: no, the narrative is not villifying Blitz and it's not babying Stolas or trying to sweep any of the shit he's done under the rug. Blitz being angry and self-destructive doesn't make him a villain, and Stolas crying a few times and still being pretty ignorant of how he's come across doesn't mean they're trying to say he's done nothing wrong.

[1-delululand-1]

What cat breeds are the LaDs men?

Sidebar: these are my opinions and it's for funsies. I based my choices mostly off of vibes along with my own experience with these specific breeds. I had to include my besties(the twins) bc I love them sm I wish they got more screen time :'( Caleb was just a bonus bc I felt bad for including everyone but him. I might add more to this later (is she crazy? 👀) based on new game updates

Caleb gives off "orange American Curl" vibes so frickin much. He seems very extroverted and like he has a childish nature.

Luke & Kieran would be Toyger cars. They're loyal and energetic. They get bored pretty easily and need constant entertainment. Plus they're easily trained.

Rafayel is a Siamese cat through and through. He's a dramatic trouble maker who always wants your attention.

Sylus would be a white Bengal. He's extremely agile and just exudes confidence. He also has a lot of energy and loves to play(he's so sneaky)

Xavier is def a Ragdoll. He's extremely docile and will do anything you ask of him. Plus he's the perfect cuddle buddy.

Zayne would be a Maine Coon. Even with his luxurious fur, he'd still be stern(as stern as a cat could be) He's self assured and calm.

Let me know what y'all think of my choices 😚

[i2rizz]

Take care of me

Fandom: Bungou stray dogs

Characters: Chuuya x sick!reader

------------‐---------------------------------------

The first sign that something was wrong was the way the world felt like it was spinning. The second was the way your body ached—every movement, every shift of your muscles felt heavier than before, as though gravity had suddenly doubled its hold on you.

You’d tried to ignore it at first. A scratchy throat, a headache that made you squint against the light, and chills that came and went without warning. But by the time the evening rolled around, the fever had hit, and you couldn’t even lift your head without your body protesting.

The moment Chuuya walked through the door after his long day of work, he found you curled up on the couch, an extra blanket draped over your body, staring at the ceiling with a furrowed brow. His eyes immediately narrowed in concern.

“Oi,” he called, voice softer than usual. He tossed his coat over the back of a chair before crossing the room to kneel in front of you. His fingers pressed to your forehead, and the frown that tugged at his lips deepened when he felt the heat radiating off your skin.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he grumbled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re burning up. Idiot.”

You gave him a small, weak smile, unable to muster up the energy to make a full excuse. “Didn’t think it was that bad…”

“Obviously it is,” he muttered. There was something almost tender in the way his hand hovered over your forehead, as if he were still unsure whether to pull you closer or give you space. He settled for sitting beside you on the couch, letting his arm drape across your shoulders, pulling you against his chest.

Your head rested against his shoulder, grateful for the comfort, but the rest of you still felt awful. Every breath you took was labored, and the constant ache behind your eyes made it hard to focus on anything for too long.

“You’re not moving from this couch,” Chuuya said firmly. “Got it? I’ll get you everything you need. Rest. That’s an order.”

You could feel the slight shift in his tone, the way his usual bravado had softened in the face of your condition.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you whispered, already starting to drift in and out of consciousness, but his firm grip on your shoulders only tightened.

“You’re never a bother. Just relax.” His voice was almost a murmur, as though he were trying to soothe not only you but himself as well. His other hand brushed your hair back, his fingertips brushing against your ear with each motion.

You felt your eyelids growing heavier, but the warmth of Chuuya’s presence made the world feel just a little less harsh. The light from the lamp next to you was soft and mellow, and for a moment, you could almost forget the fever burning inside you.

After a few moments, he stood up quickly, his voice snapping through the quiet of the room. “Stay put. I’ll get you some medicine, and I better see you drinking it.”

You nodded quietly, your voice too weak to protest. You barely heard him leave the room before he returned, a glass of water in hand and some pain medication in his other. He kneeled beside the couch again, sitting with a quiet determination as he helped you sit up, lifting the glass to your lips.

"Here," he insisted, guiding the glass to your mouth. "You need to take this."

You drank obediently, feeling the cool water ease the dryness in your throat.

“Good. Now, take this,” he said, holding out the medication. "You’re gonna feel better soon. Don’t argue with me."

You swallowed it with a soft groan, leaning against the back of the couch once again. Chuuya let out a soft sigh, then leaned back against the armrest, his arms crossing over his chest as he watched you. His usual tough-guy act had melted away entirely, replaced by a quiet protectiveness.

For a long while, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, with the occasional murmur from Chuuya—assuring you he was still there. If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you might have mistaken his constant fidgeting for irritation, but you knew better. Chuuya wasn’t good at sitting still when he was worried.

He let out a deep breath, his gaze softening as he looked over at you. “You’re stubborn, you know that?” he muttered.

“Yeah, I guess…” you mumbled, the painkillers slowly working their magic as you felt your body begin to relax, the feverish heat dissipating just a little.

“You’re lucky you’ve got me to take care of you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes not leaving you. "You’d be hopeless without me."

You didn’t have the energy to argue, but you couldn’t help but smile, feeling warmth spread through your chest—not from the fever, but from the affection in his words.

“I’m glad you’re here…” you whispered.

Chuuya's hand moved to yours, his fingers intertwining with yours, gently squeezing as if to reaffirm his presence. He didn’t say anything for a moment, simply letting his hand stay there, grounding you as you began to doze off.

"Just sleep," he murmured. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

And as your eyelids fluttered shut, you felt a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed, a sense of peace that seemed to settle over you the moment Chuuya wrapped an arm around you once again.

With him by your side, the world didn’t feel so cold.

[ikkyfics]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: you decide to teach your boyfriend to drive

Warnings: fluffy, cute scenes, sweet couple, light humor, needy character because he deserves all the love in the world

Materlist

ılı.lıllılı.ıllı.ılı.lıllılı.ıllı

“Alright, now all you need to do is ease your foot off the clutch. Slowly,” you said, your neck craned at an awkward angle as you tried to peek at the car’s pedals. Your voice carried a sweet patience that only you seemed capable of offering Dave, even after he’d almost stalled the car at least five times that day.

Dave took a deep breath, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He nodded with determination and began lifting his foot off the clutch.

“Not so fa—”

Your sentence was cut off by the car’s abrupt jolt, and the engine stalled. The silence that followed was broken by Dave’s frustrated groan as he let his forehead fall against the steering wheel with a soft thud.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice heavy with discouragement. “I’m a total loser.”

Your eyes immediately filled with guilt on his behalf. He hated letting you down, and even more than that, he hated appearing clumsy or incompetent—especially in front of you. Dave had this habit of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, as though every small failure was proof he wasn’t good enough.

You chuckled softly, reaching out to poke his ribs. “Hey, you’re not a loser.”

“Yes, I am,” he shot back, still leaning against the steering wheel.

“Alright, maybe you are. A little.”

Dave lifted his head, shooting you a wounded look that was pure drama, yet somehow irresistible. “Thanks? Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

Feigning innocence, you twirled a strand of your hair between your fingers and spoke in the sweetest voice you could muster. “But you’re my loser, Dave.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound warming the air between you. There was something endlessly endearing about the way he seemed to struggle to stay frustrated in your presence. Dave was like that—a storm of insecurities and neediness that you loved soothing with smiles and gentle touches.

Still holding the steering wheel, he sighed. “I don’t know how you have patience with me. I don’t even know why you bothered trying to teach me. You know I’m a lost cause.”

“You’re not a lost cause,” you replied, your hand sliding to his arm and giving it a firm squeeze to drive your point home. “You just need to relax. Stop overthinking.”

Dave turned his face to look at you, and his blue eyes were so full of quiet devotion that your heart skipped a beat. “It’s kinda hard not to overthink when the girl I love is watching me mess everything up,” he admitted, his voice low and hesitant.

The confession stole the breath from your lungs for a moment. Dave had this special talent for dropping these heartfelt lines that seemed pulled straight from the depths of his soul, and his vulnerability was always so genuine it was impossible not to feel a deep warmth spreading through your chest.

“You’re not messing anything up,” you assured him, leaning in closer. “And even if you were, it’d still be adorable.”

The flush that crept up his cheeks was immediate. He opened his mouth to respond but closed it just as quickly, seeming to lose his words. Dave always got a little flustered when you were that direct, and it was one of the things that made him all the more endearing.

After a few more attempts to start the car without jolts—which you met with encouraging words and light laughter—he stalled the engine again and threw his hands up in theatrical defeat.

“This is impossible!” he exclaimed.

“Impossible? I can do this with one hand tied behind my back,” you teased, crossing your arms.

“Of course you can. You’re like a driving prodigy. Remind me again how you started so young?”

You smiled, recalling the story you’d told him before. “My dad used to let me sit on his lap and hold the steering wheel when I was a kid. Obviously, it was just to entertain me. I wasn’t actually controlling anything. He always said that instead of blood, we’ve got gasoline running through our veins.”

Dave raised his eyebrows, a sly grin creeping onto his face as he shot you a long look. “So… maybe that’s what I need. You sit on my lap, and I’ll figure out how it’s done.”

You arched a brow, feigning disbelief. “Are you suggesting I sit on your lap while you drive? What do you think we are, Dave? Megan Fox and Shia LaBeouf in Transformers?”

He shrugged, his grin widening. “No, but I think it’d make for a great learning moment. Plus…” He trailed off, leaning in just a little closer. “I’m kinda partial to the idea of you right here with me.”

It was impossible to resist that look. Dave’s eyes were practically weapons of emotional destruction, brimming with a shy intensity that made your stomach flip.

You rolled your eyes dramatically but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible or genius?” he countered, already shifting to make room.

Sighing, you relented and climbed onto his lap, carefully adjusting yourself to avoid pressing him too firmly against the seat. Dave immediately placed his hands on your waist, the touch light and hesitant, as if he were still processing the fact that you were this close.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you teased, though it was hard to keep the casual tone when the warmth of his hands seemed to radiate straight to your skin.

“Not a chance,” he murmured, but the grin curving his lips was full of mischief.

When you placed your hands on the steering wheel, ready to show him how it was done, he leaned forward to press a light kiss to the curve of your neck. The gesture was so unexpected that you almost lost your composure, your heart pounding as his lips left a trail of fire on your skin.

“Dave,” you chided, though your voice sounded more like a sigh.

“I’m learning,” he replied innocently, while another, slower kiss landed just below the first.

It was hard to focus. In fact, it was impossible. You could barely remember what you were supposed to be teaching because all you could feel were his fingers firm on your waist and his warm lips on your skin. One of his thumbs dipped under the hem of your shirt, tracing lazy circles on the soft skin of your stomach. Unable to help yourself, you relaxed against his chest, sighing at the path of kisses he trailed along the side of your neck.

“If you keep this up, I’m going to crash the car,” you whispered, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“We’re parked. It’s fine,” he replied with that boyish tone that always melted your heart.

You closed your eyes as his nose brushed against the sensitive curve of your neck, inhaling deeply, as if he wanted to be intoxicated by your scent.

“You’re impossible,” you murmured, with no real intention of scolding him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he answered, his smile pressing into your skin.

Turning your head to face him, you tried to summon a seriousness that was slipping through your fingers. The way he was looking at you didn’t help—his eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and restrained longing, as if you were something too precious to touch yet impossible to resist.

“If you’re trying to distract me to avoid another attempt, I have to say you’re succeeding,” you remarked, raising an eyebrow.

Dave shrugged, his fingers still sliding absentmindedly along your waist, occasionally daring to dip down to your hips. “Not my fault I’d rather do this than… you know, wreck the gear shift again.”

You rolled your eyes, but the laugh that escaped you was as involuntary as it was inevitable. “Okay, I admit, driving with you is already one of the most chaotic experiences of my life. But if I survive this, I can survive anything.”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as if he were seriously pondering that. “So, you’re saying I’m like the final boss of patience challenges?”

“Something like that,” you replied, leaning closer, your fingers gently brushing a few of his dark curls away from his face. “But I’d also say you come with your rewards.”

Dave smiled, the kind of smile that lit up his entire face—a delightful combination of surprise and joy, as though he still wasn’t used to the fact that you loved him.

“Rewards, huh?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse, his vibrant blue eyes fixed on your lips.

You nodded slowly, letting the tension in the air between you build. Your gaze flicked to his mouth, and before hesitation could creep in, you closed the distance, kissing him with all the intensity the moment demanded.

His taste was familiar yet always felt new, an addictive mix you could never seem to get enough of. Dave’s hands tightened slightly on your waist, pulling you closer, as though he needed to feel every part of you to believe this was real. You shifted, fumbling a bit with your legs before finally settling more comfortably in his lap. Your fingers quickly tangled in his hair, drawing a soft sigh from his lips.

Dave loved you, every part of you, but your mouth might easily be one of his favorites. Not just because he could lose himself in it, but because your voice was one of the sweetest sounds he’d ever heard. It was like a siren’s song, pulling him closer until he was completely wrecked. And those little noises of pleasure that bubbled from your lips—he adored hearing them, even more so because he was the one causing them.

His hands tightened around you as he left gentle love bites on your lips, only to kiss them sweetly after. He slid deeper into the kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs as though trying to leave an imprint on your soul.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, but the goofy smile on his swollen lips made your heart stumble all over again.

“Okay,” he began, his voice low and slightly shaky. “If that’s the reward, I promise to be even clumsier.”

You laughed, giving his shoulder a playful smack. “Don’t even think about it.”

He laughed with you, though the sound soon faded as his gaze caught something else on your face. His smile softened, and he tilted his head as if trying to solve an invisible puzzle.

“What?” you asked, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his attentive stare.

“I just… sometimes I wonder how you can look at me like that,” he confessed, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Like I’m important. Special.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. Dave had this habit of underestimating his own worth, of believing he was just another ordinary figure in a world that barely seemed to notice him. But he wasn’t ordinary to you. He never could be.

“Maybe because you are,” you replied, without a hint of hesitation.

His face turned a shade of red that always made you want to squeeze him as if he were the most adorable thing in the universe. He looked away for a moment, clearly trying to hide the grin threatening to grow wider.

You decided not to give him the chance to argue or get embarrassed. Cupping his face in your hands, you forced him to look at you. “You’re special, Dave. To me, you are. You always have been.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if trying to absorb your words, to tuck them away somewhere deep inside himself. When he opened them again, there was something different in his gaze—a mix of gratitude and vulnerability that made your heart feel like it might burst.

“I really don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his voice so low it seemed meant only for you.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you replied, your thumb stroking his cheek. “Just be you. That’s enough.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade. There was no car, no driving lesson, just the two of you, so close it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

But, of course, Dave was Dave, and the silence didn’t last long.

“Alright,” he started, his voice carrying an obvious attempt at humor to ease the intensity of the moment. “So, I guess we can call it a day for the lesson. You know, I’ve learned a lot already. Especially about rewards.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve still got a lot to learn, Mr. ‘I-can’t-release-the-clutch.’”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine, but only if you promise to keep being the prettiest teacher in the world.”

“Dave…”

“What? It’s a legitimate compliment.”

You laughed again, unable to help yourself. He was a disaster behind the wheel, but when it came to melting your heart, Dave was an absolute pro.

And there, sitting in his lap, with the sweetest blue eyes in the world shining back at you, you knew you wouldn’t trade those moments — no matter how chaotic they were — for anything.

[silverynight]

Tempting

Viktor gets startled when he hears rushed footsteps in the hallway, he doesn't even have the opportunity to turn around before someone runs inside and puts his broad arms around him. There's only one person who likes to do that, so Viktor relaxes immediately.

"I thought you were going to be back next month."

"I missed you, Viktor," Jayce whispers in his ear, instead of answering the question.

He tries to turn around on his seat to face him, but his partner refuses to let go of him.

"Jayce, let me see you." Viktor has learned that he responds better to words. Even thought he's not used to tell or ask people what he wants from them, this is the only thing that seems to work with his friend.

Jayce finally steps back, albeit reluctantly, so Viktor can turn around and see him. It looks like he came straight to the lab as soon as the ship arrived because he's tired, hungry, hasn't rested properly in days and it's written all over his face.

But there's something different about him. Before he can think about what he's going to do, Viktor's hands cup Jayce's face; he starts stroking the other man's beard with his thumbs. He's not sure why, but he finds the sensation pleasant and soothing.

It doesn't occur to him that what he's doing might be weird until he notices that Jayce is slightly bent towards him, but completely still. He looks like he's in shock.

"You're touching me," he blurts out, still surprised.

"I am," Viktor says back, realizing just then that he had never initiated physical contact with Jayce, in fact, he has never touched him on his own before. "I'm sorry."

Before he can take his hands off his friend's face, the other man grabs them and presses them a bit harder against his cheeks.

"No, it's fine!" Jayce assures him, looking a bit desperate for a moment. "You can touch me as much as you want."

"Thank you, but we can't stay like this all day."

"Why not?"

Viktor chuckles at that, noticing that he's in a good mood now; he was feeling down last week and he's beginning to think it was because Jayce wasn't at his side.

"I have a lot of things I need to show you," he says instead, trying not to smile when he notices Jayce's pout.

"So you like it?"

"What?"

"The beard."

"Yes, I think you look good with it," he says absentmindedly, turning around to check his notes again.

It never occurs to him, even as a few days pass, that Jayce's choice of keeping the beard might have something to do with him.

Because it doesn't make sense.

But he does notice that he touches Jayce often now, especially when he leans over Viktor's shoulder to comment on something they're working on, and his face is right next to his. It's really easy to lift his hand and place it on his cheek and stroke his chin just to feel the facial hair there so Viktor does that; it quickly turns into a habit that he does without thinking.

Jayce doesn't seem to mind, in fact, he looks a lot pleased with himself now. Viktor is not sure why he's so smug about something like that.

However, after a while, Jayce starts getting strange ideas.

"You should kiss me."

Viktor drops the screwdriver in his hand before turning around to face his friend.

"What?"

"To feel this against your face," Jayce says, pointing at his beard. "Aren't you curious?"

"I wasn't..." But now he is, unfortunately. "I don't see why kissing you would be the best way to try that."

"It is, trust me," Jayce assures him, leaning dangerously close to him.

Even though the mere thought of his partner being attracted to him is ridiculous, the excuse he just used is so stupid that Viktor has no other choice but to consider the first option.

It's a difficult choice; this will probably change everything between them, and they have to keep working together.

But Viktor's rational inner voice is not that loud that particular night; the temptation to feel Jayce's face against his is stronger than anything else.

Without a warning, Viktor gives him a quick kiss on the lips, the rough sensation of the beard against his smooth skin makes him giggle.

"Well, that was–"

"Not enough," Jayce cuts him off before pulling him into his arms to give him a proper kiss.

The idea of Jayce liking him makes so much sense now that Viktor can feel his partner's hungry lips moving against his.

But he's not going to complain about that.

At some point, they have to breathe, but Jayce decides to press more kisses against his jaw and neck. The beard rubbing on his skin sends shivers down his spine each time.

"Let's go to my room," he almost growls, desperate. "Come on, Viktor."

"Wait... we should think about this first. We have a project together."

"It's okay, Viktor," Jayce cups his face before pressing their foreheads together. "We can be life partners too. We'll make it work. Trust me."

Viktor does. He has always trusted him.

"Alright. Let's give this life partnership a try."

[pixieswashere]

First off, I agree with everything with what OP said here. I want to also add onto this that it makes no sense for AU!Jinx/Powder not to have her mental illness/psychosis, not only bc of the fact she had it since she was a child....but also bc in that universe.....Vi is dead...like SHE IS GONE. If anything the trauma and psychosis would still be there, if not worsen overtime.

Like at first when I started it, I didn't think much thinking that in this universe she had professionall help in coping with it healthily.....but then the Vi reveal and the fact we didnt see her having some hallucinations or voices is what ruined this......her ONLY last remaining family to her parents and who was very close to her clearly...is DEAD. Jinx loved her sister so much and had a mental breakdown as a kid when she LEFT her to go and find Vander. The only person who was there that BELIEVED in her, STUCK up for her, and practically raised her along Vander. You're telling me, Jinx wouldn't have any slightest of a breakdown or crisis over that??? At all??? Even when considering her mental state???

Adding to this for Viktor (bc I love him and I 100% agree that his character was fumbled)

Viktor NEVER hated himself in s1 let's get that straight. In S1, he makes a very big POINT to show that he has always carried himself and that in whatever he does, he is proud of it because he believed in himself enough to accept who he is and DOESN'T care about what others think of him

"When you're going to change the world don't ask for permission."

"I didn't have the benefits of a patron or a name, I simply....BELIEVED in MYSELF."

You could argue that while yes he is self-assured and confident, he still has some insecurities of how people close to him perceive him....and that could be true, but it's not really ever alluded. He DOES care about making connections but hes isolated himself bc of these judgements that its almost second nature if not a rarity. But he does value companionship, its just not something he is accustomed to a degree, and he sometimes without consideration distances himself from it if it gets in the way of his aspirations (Ex: Sky/Jayce, Heimerdinger/Singed.) In the latter acts of S1 he was DYING he wasn't hating himself because of his "terminal illness" that was killing him or his disability....He was in a vulnerable and solemn state because he felt like his accomplishments meant or achieved NOTHING. This is a character that is selfless, altruistic and a workaholic who worked his way up with dreams of something better and now after so many years in developing Hextech he's seeing that what he strived to achieve for the improvement of his home that's also DYING because of Piltover's ignorance and oppression, is unable to do NOTHING about it now.

He is angry that he has no CONTROL over his fate and the assuredness of his Legacy = helping those in need for the Undercity because of Jayce and Piltover's lack of understanding, especially after they had complied building the Hexgates for their trade disputes first.....over the disputes of lives. Viktor has contemplated death because he knows time is fleeting and he wants to make it count for something good, he doesnt want to be remembered as PERFECT, he wants to be remembered in the contributions that the people of Zaun will FINALLY heal/be helped after so long and not have to live short lives bc of unsafe work environments, manual labour, illnesses cause by toxic chemicals and etc.

He even brushes the idea of when he'll die off, and you could even add that he is ticked off by the fact that hes now being perceived as a "dead man" before he even died (Ex. Heimerdinger convo and Jayce in the hospital, etc). He doesn't like being seen as powerless or as his terminal illness now because he ISN'T and never was. Furthermore, he doesnt use the Hexcore to "PERFECT" himself, he's using it to heal himself of his terminal illness/expand his lifespan so that he can continue his research in helping Zaun.

If he is going to use Hexcore, he needs to make sure that it will work. So, to tests its capabilities, he tests it on HIMSELF. Only to find out that the same thing he created to HEAL ended up killing someone that meant a lot to him. He wasted NO TIME telling Jayce to destroy it bc it harmed someone and he finally realizes that ensuring a legacy = saving people....ended up at the cost of harming people in return.

P.s. sorry this was long. Hope you enjoyed reading it if u did !

I don't have perfect thoughts on it, but I do want to note that I'm not loving how Arcane handles disability.

Viktor hating his disability so deeply, feeling that it needs to be "fixed" so thoroughly, that he succumbs to ~ultimate eugenics for everyone ~ ?????? fucked up

Jinx's psychosis being a manifestation of her being "unhinged" and encouraging her to act out either to challenge or appease them, and then her psychosis magically disappearing in the "perfect" universe????? also fucked up

Vi's alcoholism and (albeit mild) psychotic symptoms never being brought up....ever???? just created as fodder to make her a more angsty and submissive lapdog to facism????? also also fucked up

Let me have my mad/cripple characters who have their shit recognized as parts of their humanity rather than trauma porn plot or things that need to be corrected or traits indicative of rash violence please

[justastraymoa]

Unwilling Alpha

Chapter 15

Masterlist

Warnings ⚠️ swears, abo dynamics, mentions of slave trade, mentions of rape, mentions of abuse, mentions of death, fear, manipulation. Blood drowning drowning in blood. Nightmares.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

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We knew it was coming, but it still sucked to be going to bed alone.  There just wasn’t enough room for everyone to sleep comfortably in a hotel room.  I was strangely anxious as I got ready for bed.  I procrastinated.  Taking a longer shower than usual, doing an extra-long skin care routine, picking out an outfit for tomorrow, playing on my phone.  Until I finally had no choice but to turn in.

My dreams were full of blood and screaming.  A faceless, nameless Alpha bleeding out, reaching towards me for help.  Gurgling and choking on their own blood as it pooled around my ankles, rising quickly until it was at my hips.  The blood was cold and thick, not letting me move to get away-to run.  As it rose to my neck the pressure started to make it hard to breathe and I gasped in small amounts of air desperately trying to move.  I couldn’t let it cover my nose.  I didn’t want to drown in someone’s blood!  Please!  Oh god, please!

Waking with a flair of pain as I fell out of bed and hit my shoulder on the unforgiving hotel floor, I lay there, adjusting to reality and catching my breath.  I could still see the bleeding Alpha every time I closed my eyes.  My throat felt raw, like I had been screaming.  Maybe that was the screaming I heard in the nightmare.

I jumped hard when there was a knock on my door and an unintelligible voice on the other side, muffled by the thick hotel door.  With a sigh and still shaking I stood and answered the door.  If I was really screaming it was probably security coming to check on me.

I blinked, shocked when I opened the door to most of the staff and all my Omegas.  Plus, of course, security who were the only ones who didn’t look half asleep.  “I’m sorry.  I had a nightmare.”  I explained embarrassed.

Luckily, there were no outward signs of judgement.  Most staff and security just nodded or murmured in understanding and left.  Back to their rooms to sleep more.  The Omegas stayed, though most looked mostly asleep, leaning on each other.

“I’m really okay guys.  Go back to bed.”  No need for them to be tired tomorrow because of me.  They were already jam packed with schedules.

They dispersed back to their rooms.  All except Cahn and Lino.  Unceremoniously, Lino shoved by me and went straight to my bed - immediately falling back asleep.  I looked back at Chan in question.

“We’ll stay with you tonight.”  He stated.

Chan waited until I stepped aside to enter my room, but it was clear he wasn’t leaving – just being polite.  He made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the bed from Lino, leaving a space in between them for me, which he patted in invitation when I didn’t immediately join them.

I was immensely grateful that neither made a big deal about staying with me.  With them near me I felt like I would actually be able to fall asleep and get some rest.

Climbing over Chan, I squeeze myself between them and snuggled up to him.  He pulled me closer to tuck me under his chin and soothingly started rubbing his foot along my half.

“Was it the airport incident?”  Chan asked quietly a minute later.

“I guess it affected me more than I thought.”  I was disappointed in myself.  For not being stronger.  I wasn’t even hurt, it’s so stupid to be afraid now!

Chan kissed the top of my head.  “You were covered in human blood.  Anyone would be traumatized.  I would have vomited or cried for sure.”  He assured me.

“You did good.  Didn’t give the bastards anything.”  Lino mumbled from his pillow behind me.  I had thought he was sleeping, but apparently, I was wrong.

“I did faint.”  I pointed out.

“After we were safely out of public eye.  Don’t be so hard on yourself.  No one can be strong all the time.  We all have out breaking points.”  Chan chastised gently.

Lino scooted closer behind me.  There are 9 of us.  We carry each other.”  He sighed nuzzling his face on the back of my neck.  Something he would never do or say if he wasn’t half asleep, I am sure.

“Okay, okay.  Both of you get some sleep.”  I tucked the blanket around the three of us and settled back in, ready to give sleeping without nightmares another chance now that I was between two of my Omegas.

With their warmth and scent around me, I fell back asleep easily.  And despite the nightmare still fresh in my mind, I only had pleasant dreams for the rest of the night.

The great thing about dance practice is that I could go in sweatpants, and no one cared.  Which was good because early morning practices were not my favorite.  Between Lino and Chan, I was somehow dressed, given a piggyback ride to the car, and provided caffeine.

When the caffeine finally started to kick in, I blearily looked at the calendar on my phone to see the schedule for the day.  Trying to make sense of the chaos of nine schedules in one day all jumbled and overlapping each other.

From what I could tell, after practice Chan, Felix and I had an interview with an Australian entertainment show followed by a photoshoot for a magazine spread.  My first official interview and photoshoot where I wasn’t the photographer.

Since I had never been a model before I needed to study.  So, I pulled up some of my best photos on my tablet and while the boys practiced their dances I practiced modeling.  Both facial expressions and poses.  It felt and looked clumsy as hell, and I was embarrassed.

“What the fuck are you doing?”  Lino asked coming over on one of their breaks.  I had been attempting to replicate a particularly soft and sexy pose in my camera – and failing apparently.

I relaxed my face and dropped my arms with a huff.  “I have a photoshoot with Cannie and Lixie this afternoon.”

“So, you decided to practice bad modeling?”

“Am I really that bad?”  I pouted feeling defeated.

Lino patted my head.  “You’re thinking too much about it.  You do this all the time.”

“No!  I take pictures – I’m not in them!”

“Y/n, babe, you are going to do fine.  No one is expecting you to be perfect.”

“I cannot drag you guys down!  I will not allow it!”

“You won’t.  And we won’t let you fall either.  We will walk you through the shoot.”  Felix said, joining us with a half empty bottle of water and a damp sweat towel.

I gave in easily to his promise – trusting him to keep his word.  He was one of the better models of the group, so he would likely be able to walk me through it easily.  And, despite what I said to Lino, my experience behind the camera would help, just like it did when I took the bonding marks photos.

This was the first time I was leaving a significant number of my Omegas.  And it was for almost half a day.  As the time to leave drew closer I found myself almost clinging to the Omegas I would leave.  Constantly reestablishing contact and seeking out their touch and scent as well.  Like I was some kind of drug addict in need of a constant fix.

I even went as far as sitting on Bins lap during their meeting with staff.  Pulling Hyune close and playing with his fingers in my lap and hooking an ankle around Ayen’s calf firmly.  And even as I had all three of them, my instincts wanted to bring Han, Lino, and Seungmin closer.  To have some part of me touching them, just a little.

For their part they didn’t seem to mind my clinginess.  In fact, I don’t think it bothered them at all that we would be apart for hours.  They weren’t seeking contact like I was, and any skinship I got from them I had to ask for.  Knowing that they weren’t affected by being separated from me for hours stung.  It downright hurt.  It made me sad and bitter, but unable to stop seeking contact with them.

I tried not to be bitter.  They all had a lot going on right now.  A lot on their plates and a lot on their minds.  They really didn’t have time to think about me, to worry about being apart.

I tried to remember this and not be bitter and upset, but it didn’t really work.  Emotions didn’t work on rationality and no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t stop them.  The best I could do was try not to take it out on the Omegas.

“Alright, baby girl, time to go.”  Chan clapped and rubbed his hands together.

I shook my head.  “Not yet.”  It was too soon.  I needed more time.  Like maybe a week or two.

Chan tilted his head with a fond smile and exasperated body language.  “We have to go, or we will be late.”

We had a stare down.  Me pouting and him in fond exasperation before I finally gave in with a growl.

Lino laughed and came over to squish my cheeks together when I stood.  “That was so cute!”

Rolling my eyes I shoved his hands away but pulled him in for a hug.  I rubbed my hands all down his back and arms to make sure plenty of my scent was left behind.  So, everyone knew – even if I wasn’t here - that he was bonded.  That he was mine.

I gave the same treatment to the other Omegas I was leaving behind, taking my time, and making sure enough scent was left behind.  I had to make sure – it was an absolute must.

They tolerated it well enough.  Standing still while I rubbed at them with hyperfocus.  Only a few chuckles and eyerolls.  Han and Ayen curling up when I accidentally tickled them.

“Honey, we really are going to be late if we don’t leave.”  Lix called gently.

I nodded.  “Okay, okay.  I’m coming!”

Once in the car the anxiety doubled, and I stared at the building as we drove further and further away from six of my Omegas.  Felix took my hand and squeezed it in comfort.

“They will be fine.  And we’ll be back before you know it.”  He said quietly.

And he was right.  They would be fine.  They had their own schedules to keep them busy.  It was literally just me freaking out over separating.

It’s not like I thought they needed my protection because I knew they didn’t.  Omegas weren’t weak, and my Omegas were the strongest I have ever met.  It was me that needed them.  Needed to be needed – be wanted – by them.  I was the weak one.

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General Taglist @stellasays45

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