#or is at least weaker right now

[infinity-on-ri]

I'll kms if we move actually.

[fisheito]

opinions on eiden taking a shower in a public bathroom with bare feet i couldn't even enjoy the scene because i was so horrified eiden where are your shower slippers Jesus

you bring it up and i realise i had my suspending-disbelief-yaoi-immunity goggles on thru the whole scene believing that essence naturally acts as some sorta full-body magical shield against germs and disease 😅😅 i mean. how else are these mens gonna hoe out that severely and NOT get taken down by the most mundane sexually-or-platonically-transmitted infections

[thatfriendlyanon]

i think part of my problem is i lived with my best friend for two years of my life and have been searching for the same feeling of joy & acceptance & support ever since

[deoidesign]

I literally just had the thought "I'm sorry I draw so much sexy art" and then I was like what the fuck? No I'm not. You all followed me you know what you're getting into.. you can unfollow me any time you want... What do I have to be sorry about. In fact. You're welcome for all the sexy art. Congratulations you've won by being here and getting to see it.

[sweetandglovelyart]

Are there any other Kirby fans on here who are also fans of Star Trek? I know of a couple people already, but I’m trying to see if there’s anyone else. I personally see a lot of parallels between Kirby and Star Trek, and some of my Kirby fanart is Star Trek-inspired, so that’s why I’m asking.

[vogelmeister]

anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.

like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.

[an1muuarts]

ppl should make a list of injuries (canon) and diseases horror game protags get and see where the point should be the protag should not be even walking or moving

cuz i saw one of them get puked on by a person with syphilis, landed on a pile of dead bodies, swam through a river that also has dead bodies, got nails hammered through their hands, dead animals are everywhere, got their thighs and legs stuck in a barbed wire fence, force fed blood that has the disease, and many more injuries from sharp weapons that probably rusted all to heck

and still going around running, doing parkour, LEAPING over gaps, and still have grip strength even if they had nails in BOTH of their hands

and i cant get out of bed when i have a fever

[sh1-n0bu]

some things humans do that seems like self mutilation to your yautja mate

when you cut your nails or file them down after they break off unevenly, constantly annoying you or scratching over your skin. it looks like you’re de-clawing yourself to your yautja and the next time you try to file down your nails, the nail kit is harder to find or has been used up as target practice while a very much innocent yautja clicks and clack his mandibles around

when you cut your hair short or at least trim the edges, especially at home. to yautjas, their dreadlocks AKA tentacles, are their extra sensors. they must be greatly taken care of, handled with care and even longer and well maintained dreadlocks are greatly desired amongst yautja society. long and well cared of dreadlocks means the yautja is an experienced hunter and old even in some cases and their kin desires to be an experienced, well aged, elder hunters. some tribes would even cut off the dreadlocks of prisoner yautjas of other tribes or bad bloods, so whenever the snipping sound of the scissor rings out, your mate has to suppress a shiver or hold back an angered growl at the scissors for daring to hurt his mate. the first few times, there were definitely snatching away of the sharp object or perhaps even one of their precise laser beams were fired to kick that thing away from your hair and hands. but even after many times of explaining and soothing, your yautja mate would still have some problem hiding his angered growl every time you snip away at your hair

whenever you brush your teeth. brushing teeth is nothing known to them due to their mouth anatomy and fangs. plus, their diet consists of fresh, uncooked meat most of the time which requires sharp canines and not so bright teeth (side note: yellow teeth are okay in humans because the actual bone color is yellow so yellow teeth means strong teeth or so i read). besides, the sound the brush makes when you brush your teeth sounds like the one a file would make when filing down bones so to them, it sounds like you’re filing down your fangs. sometimes, your yautja mate thinks that perhaps this is why you need to eat cooked meat and doesn’t have sharp fangs like him. and of course, the first few times, your toothbrush went missing

‘oomans are very weird with odd customs and desire for self-mutilation. sometimes, your mate would think this is perhaps why ‘oomans are so physically weak. that they purposefully make themselves weaker and would sometimes even have a growing sense of respect for ‘ooman warriors for even with all these self-mutilations and making themselves weaker, smaller and slower, they still manage to survive and sometimes even win against yautjas. ‘oomans were truly fascinating little creatures. but right now, your yautja is more keen to the idea of wrapping his body around your smaller one to keep you safe while you rest. though one of the many positive aspects, is that you make cute noises in your sleep

[mariasont]

A Puddle in Running Shoes A.H.

summary: your boyfriend finds out you have a praise kink and is having way too much fun with that information

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive content, hotch being a menace, reader having a praise kink, end suggests something may happen but nothing explicit in this one folks im getting my libido under control swear, also count how many times r refers to hotch's face as stupid im crying

wc: 1.9k

You hated running. No, correction, loathed it. Detested it. Despised it with every fiber of your being. If there was a stronger word, one that captured the burning, irrational rage you felt whenever someone suggested going for a jog, Spencer might have known it, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to ask. Simply put, running was not your thing.

But when Aaron, your boyfriend and somehow the most persistent man alive, asked you to join you on a run, you couldn't exactly say no. He didn't beg, Aaron Hotchner did not beg, but his version of asking, that soft it'd mean a lot to me paired with an encouraging smile, was close enough to begging in your book. Besides, you figured there'd be some sort of reward when you got back home. Aaron was good at those.

So here you were, contributing absolutely nothing to your marathon-obsessed, fitness-loving FBI boyfriend's training. Sweat coated every inch of your body, your legs felt like lead, and your lungs burned with every ragged breath you managed to suck in. The sun blazed overhead, making you feel more like a roasting chicken than a willing participant in this so-called fun activity.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he'd stepped out of a fitness ad, shirt clinging to him in ways that felt outright scandalous. Even the sweat on his face somehow made him look even more attractive.

He was at least ten paces ahead of you and every few steps, he'd glance over his shoulder, probably checking to make sure you hadn't spontaneously combusted or snuck off to find an air-conditioned cafe. Honestly, both were real possibilities.

Aaron's pace slowed until he was running beside you, throwing you a smile so unfairly handsome it made your legs feel weaker than they already did.

"How are you feeling?" The question felt retorical, anyone, profiler or not, was sure to be able to read you like an open book right now. "Still alive, or do I need to start figuring out the best way to carry you home without breaking any traffic laws?"

"I think I'm alive," you managed between gasps, wiping sweat from your brow. "But if carrying me is on the table, I'm not above playing dead to make that happen."

"Not necessary, I'd carry you anyway, if only to reward you for keeping up this long. You're doing great."

You foot caught a crack in the pavement, nearly hurling yourself into it, but Aaron's hand was there quicker keeping you upright as you tried to ignore the terrifying way your body had reacted to his compliment.

"Okay you can't just say stuff like that while I'm trying to run," you blurted out, avoiding his gaze. "You're trying to kill me, I swear."

You planted your hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath, secretly relieved to have a break, even if it almost involved a face-first meeting with the sidewalk.

"Stuff like what?" He tugged at your ponytail and you swatted his hand.

"Nothing," you said way too quickly, shaking your head like you could physically toss what you said aside. "Forget I said anything. Let's just... keep running."

You quickly realized your mistake as soon as you started jogging again. You would never willingly suggest to keep running. Unfortunately, Aaron was actively aware of this, moving to come up beside you. You didn't need to look at him to know he had the stupidest smirk on his face.

He didn't say anything at first, to your immediate relief, just kept jogging beside you. The silence stretched on, his calm breathing only seeming to make your wheezing sound worse.

"You're breathing too shallow," he said after a moment, his tone completely casual like he wasn't even winded. "Try to take deeper breaths, match them to your strides. It'll make it easier."

You glanced towards him out of the corner of your eye before attempting his suggestion. You had no intention of letting him know that it worked. His ego was far too substantial for that.

"See? You're a natural," he said, shooting you a sidelong glance. "Atta girl."

Your brain flatlined and you almost tripped over your feet again, every rational thought replaced by static. What was wrong with you? You vaguely remembered reading somewhere that people with unresolved daddy issues were prone to developing praise kinks. Was that what this was? Whatever the reason, hearing Aaron talk like that shouldn't make you feel all gooey inside, but here you were, a puddle in running shoes.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yup, fine!"

You stared at the ground so intensely, it was a miracle you didn't bore a hole into the pavement. Your voice had betrayed you, far too shaky and way too rushed, and you knew Aaron was probably filing away every bit of your reaction.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand brushing against the back of your neck as he spoke. "Stop staring at the ground. You'll run better if you keep your head up, it'll open your chest so you can breathe easier."

His hand lingered for a second too long than what your body could handle, leaving you completely flustered and fighting every urge to do exactly the opposite of what he said.

"There you go," he murmured, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. "That's good, honey. Just like that."

His voice, his god forsaken voice, was like lightning to your system, and not in a good way. Or maybe it was a good way, which was the problem. It was bad enough to hearing it out here, on the jogging trail, but your brain decided to replay it in an entirely different inappropriate context: one that involved you, him, and a bed.

Your face burned, and you couldn't tell if it was from the exertion, or the very real possibility that your body was too receptive to those words. And now, not only were you fighting for every breath, but you were trying to figure out if the dampness between your legs was entirely from sweat. Surely it was sweat. Right? Gods, you hoped it was sweat.

You stopped so suddenly that Aaron jogged a few steps ahead before he realized you were not longer beside him.

"Okay, I'm calling it. I'm done. Can we please go home now?"

He jogged back to you, an easy smile on his face, and placed his hands on your shoulders as he reached you.

"Alright, we can be done," he teased, thumbs brushing lightly over your collarbones. "You survived, and you did great. I'm proud of you."

He leaned down then, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips that made the ache in your body a little easier to ignore.

When he pulled away, you barely managed to keep standing.

Aaron let out a low laugh, his hands squeezing your shoulders. "Alright. What's going on? What's wrong with you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," you said over your shoulder, practically power walking towards the car.

Aaron's laugh deepened and you ignored the funny feeling curling in your chest.

"Sweetheart," he said, gently tugging your elbow to slow you down. "Come on, talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm fine!" You avoided his eyes as you tugged your elbow free. "I'm just tired, and, uh, need a shower."

A cold shower, your brain screamed, but you shoved the thought down.

"I know, I know you're tired," he said, lips curving into a smile, "but that's because you actually pushed yourself. I'm proud of you for sticking with it."

You were pretty convinced you were you were about to go up in flames. Your obituary would read death by too many unnecessary compliments. When your heart inevitably gave out, Aaron would have to explain to Rossi and the others how his dumb smile and sweet words had resulted in second degree manslaughter.

But then you saw it, the smirk. The one that said he absolutely knew what he was doing.

"Oh my gosh, you know!" You groaned and threw your hands in the air. "You know, and you're enjoying this!"

Spinning away from him, you stormed to the car, and slammed the door like it might shield you from his stupidly smug face.

You barely had time to exhale before the passenger door swung open, revealing Aaron, casually leaning against the car.

"You know," he said lightly, his tone far too casual for your liking, "slamming car doors isn't a great habit. You could hurt yourself."

"And you know," you snapped back, pointing at him, "torturing your girlfriend isn't a great habit either!"

He leaned in slowly, his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he grabbed your seatbelt. As he clicked it into place, his face lingered close to yours.

"I wasn't trying to torture you, baby. Just wanted to give you the chance to admit it, that you liked it."

Before you could muster a reply, Aaron's hand slid up to cradle your face, his thumb moving along your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was so deep, leaving you no choice but to sink into it, even as the faint remnants of your annoyance tried to surface.

By the time he pulled back, you felt like you were under his spell. Then, without another word, he shut your door and headed to the driver's side.

"That's not fair," you muttered, crossing your arms and pouting as you stared out the window.

Aaron's hand found the back of your neck as he backed out of the parking spot, rubbing gently into smooth circles.

"I don't mean to be unfair," he said with a small smile. "I just needed to hear it, because sometimes people don't even realize what they need until they say it out loud. And I wanted to make sure I didn't misread anything, though I'm rarely wrong, as you know."

"Trust me, you remind me every chance you get." Your tone was dry, but you were well aware that the twitch in your lip was giving you away.

"Alright, smartass," he said, chuckling as his fingers pressed a little firmer into your neck. "Now tell me, how does it make you feel when I say those things to you?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "I don't know, okay? I just... like it! Do I have to explain it?"

"You don't have to explain it if you don't want to," he said, "but I'd like to know what it is you like so much."

Aaron's hand moved from your neck to your hand, his fingers sliding between each of yours while his eyes stayed glued to the road, a thing that only came from months of familiar motions.

You let out a long breath. "I don't know. I just like hearing it. It makes me feel good. Special, I guess."

"You are special, sweetheart." His eyes flicked to you before returning to the road. "You're my best girl."

Your stomach flipped violently. You shifted again, trying to disguise the way your thighs pressed together tightly as your face burned hotter than ever. The debate earlier in your head was officially over, absolutely not just sweat, you thought miserably.

Aaron let out a soft chuckle, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "Something I said?"

You swatted his shoulder, your glare losing all its bite thanks to the flush all over your body. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"I can't help it," he murmured, voice dipping just enough to get you on edge. "But don't worry, I'll take care of my best girl once we're home."

You slumped in your seat, muttering something unintelligible that made Aaron chuckle again. And even though you wouldn't admit it, you found yourself smiling, already dreading and anticipating whatever he had planned when you got home.

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[crustyfloor]

My fragile god, fading fast. - ( english translation free on Patreon🫩)

Rather than sheltered, Mizi's life was surrounded by death and gore; she never got a break from it. When Shine adopted her, it was like a reprieve from all of the horror she's been through because she was loved, she may not have understood them, but she knew how much they cherished her, and it made her happy that she at least didn't feel like she was in immediate danger around them because she was such a beloved pet, as long as this alien loved her, she would be safe and survive.

Still, I think she was haunted by the implication that she was still always in danger, even in Shine's care, she was getting hurt, she was weak (While she was relieved to be with Shine because it didn't feel like she felt safe and cared for in the first place) . The differences and the inherent misunderstanding between Aliens and their "pets" are so key in this one. While Shine did care and genuinely believed they were doing the best for Mizi, they didn't understand her. It doesn't look cruel on the outside, but it's intentionally hidden in the subtlety. Shine is careless, insensitive, and makes mistakes because they don't understand humans; they are treated much like puppies. It's the quiet calmness and detachment and carefreeness, even as Mizi is in pain or crying in front of them, they lack the care of a human, despite trying to take the place of one. She was a pet for them to ogle and coo at until she would be too much to handle- "Raising a child isn't easy, huh. How about you buy her a TV?"

I think, then, Mizi wanted an escape from that place somehow. I think this is how she realized how weak and destructible other humans are on that stage, just like she felt about herself. Aliens are too different and too powerful to empathize and understand her, so she wanted to go to Alien stage to seek out what she was missing, to find some sort of solidarity, or she would die there and be freed

I'm glad this question was somewhat answered, because I've always wondered why it was Mizi's choice to go to Anakt Garden, but I think Mizi wanted to go to Alien stage so badly because she wanted to feel in control of something; she couldn't control losing her "provider", she couldn't control how the aliens perceived her. But she could control this. Because she hated feeling like the fragile one, like she could be "crushed", she wanted to feel like more than a pet; she wanted to be liked, to be understood when she couldn't find it in the aliens, it made her so lonely. So she wanted to be around humans who were also like her, weak, fragile. That explains why she was so drawn to Sua in the first place

Mizi's fascination and adoration of the way Sua is so perfect, so human, like herself, and weak, is fascinating... I especially love this sequence where Mizi is adoring her from bottom to top, not just because it's so tender, but because Mizi truly adores Sua like a god, because Sua is her god, it encapsulates how Mizi is obsessed, how in love with all that Sua is to her, and all the freedom and peace she feels in Sua's love and presence, the escape and guidance Sua was made her godlike to Mizi

In many ways, right now, when she speaks, she's projecting her own feelings of weakness and insecurity onto Sua, who is comparatively weaker and smaller than Mizi.

It comes from a place of wanting control; Sua is so perfect to her because she could be crushed, Mizi could hurt her, and Sua allows her that kind of control. She feeds into Mizi's insecurities and need for autonomy through control. Mizi doesn't mean to hurt Sua, but she is a traumatized person who takes it out on Sua because she knows no better than this; still, they try to understand and console each other despite all of it. (It's so.. ironic. In a way, they end up inevitably perpetuating their own pain and abuse by repeating the behavior and habits that hurt themselves and each other because this environment fosters these interactions; they can't do anything else about it, can't worry about 'healthy love' like this.) --Their love is more profound and unconditional than anything Mizi has ever had before, even with her owner, Shine, who would love her until she was difficult to manage, but not Sua. And Sua loved and trusted her completely, let Mizi have her completely. In many ways, Mizi found someone who wouldn't abandon her, accepted her completely and unconditionally, as flawed as she was, and no matter how many times she did things she wasn't proud of, even hurt Sua, Sua would always accept her, and in turn, Mizi would be a comfort and an escape for Sua too, such unconditional acceptance and love made them soothingly equal and reliant on each other to feed into each others delusions for a safe place just for them in the world (To Mizi, who hated feeling inadequate or weak, this must've been freeing even if Sua couldn't be completely understanding, they had each other in a world where it was one for oneself or you were under a constant threat otherwise)

-- Sua offers herself and never faults Mizi for what she does, or her feelings, no matter how ashamed Mizi is of it, or how her insecurities can manifest in the ugliest of ways because Mizi didn't know how to express herself in the first place. This is how Sua thinks she's fulfilling her desire to protect Mizi's innocence and to keep her safe by reassuring each other that their lives aren't up to the segyein, that they have each other. Mizi felt a sense of control and stability in Sua that she had never had in her life. Mizi's escapism and coping mechanism is finding security in repression, ignorance, or a facade. She couldn't feel at peace even in the safety of her Guardian no matter how "safe" she was, she wasn't understood, but she could feel at peace in the illusion of control and safety, of having someone that she perceived as weak and unable to "crush" and hurt her like so many others in her life could and did.

The psychology behind it is also super fascinating, from somebody so human, Mizi thinks of Sua like how the segyein think of all of them, as aforementioned, she's projecting what she's heard before, Shine calls her adorable even when she's in pain because her clumsiness and the defenselessness she exhibits as a human is funny and endearing to them, the aliens look down on them because humans are fragile. To Mizi, Sua is all (adorable, small, weak, unthreatening). In a situation where they are both two abused children under a similar threat by aliens who control them, Mizi finds security and comfort in the fact that they are both vulnerable, lacking power, and the idea that she has upper hand over Sua in this circumstance is like Mizi is trying to substitute a feeling of powerlessness with taking back a sense of control that she's never had before.

[silkentine]

Wha--?! Silk finally finished her fem Zoro design after (checks notes) literally 6 months since she made the canvas in procreate?

I'll break down design thoughts and share some fun bonus pics under the cut:

I LOVE long hair on Zoro, I think that was the first change I wanted to implement. Zoro in canon actually has a really interesting relationship with gender dynamics which (if for some reason you're reading this and you haven't watched One Piece) can seem out of left field for the "dumb brute" character. His rivalry with and reverence for Kuina suggests he doesn't adhere to the idea that women are weaker than men. Later on, however, during his confrontation with Monet and Tashigi during Punk Hazard, his hesitation to slash her down reveals that he's subconsciously over-protective of women because he thinks they're inherently weaker. I actually don't have any problem with this character trait, I think it makes him feel more real as a person and he obviously gets shit-talked enough about it in the story itself. But how did I want to reflect these beliefs if Zoro had been born a woman? Easy: internalized misogyny and applying value to herself via her appearance.

My version of Zoro grew up wanting to fight with swords but her only chance of entering the dojo was to work under the proprietress, Lady Shimotsuki to maintain the property, cook meals for the male students, and eventually be a good wife to the current heir, Kuina. She learns that, to get what she wants, she must be the ideal woman, even if she stays up all night training swordsmanship with Kuina when she isn't supposed to. He treats her love for swordplay seriously and treats her like an equal, which sparks a bond between them and eventually leads to Zoro's goal of becoming the world's greatest swordsman after his sudden, accidental death.

After years of intense training (now that Lady Shimotsuki admits that she'll need a new heir and Zoro is the closest thing she has) Zoro's finally old enough to leave and begin her journey. She starts letting go of the idea that she has to look pulled together to be taken seriously because she can just kill anyone who looks down on her. Her clothing falls into disrepair, she wears outfits that help her move in combat, and she starts tossing her hair up into messy, knotted buns under her bandana. Even so, she keeps her hair long like rolling hills of grass. (At least during pre-timeskip. She lops off her hair to prove to Mihawk that she's serious about being trained.)

I've put her in a thin sweater that she stitches (poorly) back together after her first interaction with Mihawk. (I kept one sleeve because I was inspired by the santoryuu Nami that Oda drew that one time.) I also wanted to girl-ify the ubiquitous haramaki so I picked leg warmers for her because I think they're sufficiently "dated" enough to be kinda analogous with his old man belly warmer. I also love gyaru fashion, sue me.

Here is a screenshot of her as a blonde:

And here is a sketch of her post-timeskip where she's fully embraced her butch nature:

Hubba hubba, am I right?

Check out my tag "girl piece original design" to see more of my genderbending art! Next post, I'll put all my East Blue Crew designs together! I can't believe it's taken this long but I AM SO HAPPPPPYYYYY

[todomochi-uwu]

already over.

Pairing(s): Luffy x reader; Zoro x reader; Sanji x reader; Ace x reader; Law x reader Genre: Smut, angst Warnings: This content is for a mature audience Synopsis: The flesh is weak, and you are even weaker for him. Author's notes: I finished Marineford, and I feel like dying, so you might notice my love for Ace through this text. I'm thinking about writing a second part, but I'm not sure. Would you guys like a part two? Partially inspired by Already over by Sabrina Carpenter, hence the name of this work. Masterlist If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee

Luffy 

You broke up with him, and it killed you, but you must face the truth: He's still too immature for a serious relationship. He isn’t what you need right now. 

The idea of you not being in his life doesn’t make sense to him. 

“Can we, at least, be friends?” “Maybe in the future, Luffy.” “Like, in a week?” 

Pushing you out of his routine is something he can’t seem to do. 

“Hey! Are we still on for dinner on Friday?” “Luff, we are broken up.” “Is that a no?” 

Sends you constant TikTok videos and memes that remind him of you. You try not to answer but can’t help but see them. 

Moving on from him is a nightmare cause he’s always there. 

It takes something to have reality hit him. 

“Oh, look at this photo Y/n posted!” He showed Usopp your profile. A thread of photos you had posted last night. The first one of you with chopsticks on your nose. The next one mid mid-bite. The third one of you smiling and looking at the camera. 

"I thought you guys broke up?" He side-eyed his friend. 

"Yeah, so?" He was too focused on flipping through your pictures until he came across the last one. You were posing with a guy, his arm around you while kissing your cheek. You were laughing. “Who the fuck is that?!” 

“Um...” 

He won't hesitate. He corners you to ask who the guy in your photo is. And when you answer honestly, it feels like a punch to the gut. 

“It’s a guy I’ve been seeing.” “What? I thought you just needed a break or something. Not an actual break-break.” “Lu, we broke up four months ago...” 

Be sure he’ll drive away anyone who dares to approach you. He wants you and won’t let you go. Not that easy. 

It's no surprise you end up back on his bed. You love this man, your heart longs for him. 

“Luffy!” Overstimulated and cross-eyed he had you, on the old and ragged couch of his living room. His tongue lapped at your wet cunt, thrusting and sucking on everything across its path. Luffy was always a messy eater, so oral sex wasn’t the exception. 

"You always taste so good." He pulled away for a second, just to see the way your juices spilt out along with his spit. Then, he pushed two fingers inside, with no warning, but sure where to aim. He knew your body like the palm of his hand. 

“Shit!” If he hadn’t been holding you, you surely would've face-planted. Your fingers ran through his hair, shoving his face closer to your core. Getting closer and closer for the nth time, thanks to the way his fingers fuck you and his lips around your clit. 

Yeah, you fucked up. 

Your head is a mess, and this won’t help. But you are weak, dumb and in love. And, painfully, in denial. 

To him, it just doesn’t make sense. If you love him, and he loves you, why not be together? 

“Are we good?” He asks while stroking your arm, leaving kisses on your shoulder. It’s then you realise you aren’t and he’s still the same man you broke up with. 

“No, Luffy. We are not.” You get up and get dressed.  

"But I miss you, Y/n, and I know you miss me too!" He hugs you from the back, "We are meant to be." 

“Are we?” You won’t even look at him. No matter how much he tries. 

Zoro 

He doesn’t even flinch when you break up with him.  

He’s the definition of lovers to enemies. 

Being friends with the two of you is hell. 

“Why are you acting like a fucking asshole?” “Why are you being such a bitch?” 

Do not be mistaken, Zoro might act like he hates you, but he’s hurting. Having you so close but not being able to be with you is killing him. Even more, knowing it was his fault. 

He took you for granted. He was neglectful and dismissive, prioritizing every aspect of his life over you. Unaware of it until it was too late. 

It’s not that he didn’t care that you left, it's the fact that he didn’t know what to do to get you back. So, he resorted to anger. 

Rolling his eyes every time you were brought up, being in the worst mood whenever you showed up; and arguing with you at every little opportunity he got. 

Hate sex came out of nowhere, am I right? 

“Don’t stop!” Eyes at the back of your head, face shoved against his pillow. 

His hips pounded against your ass again and again. You’ve been going at it for God knows how long, but Zoro didn’t seem anywhere near done with you, "Such an obedient girl.” His thrusts slowed down while pressing his chest to your back, leaving kisses on the skin and biting your shoulder, “your pussy is more honest than you, baby.” 

Your hands gripped desperately to his sheets. You couldn’t form a single straight thought, just his name and moans escaped your mouth. “Fuck you." You felt the knot in your belly snapping, legs trembling, and juices spilling everywhere, “Zoro!” 

“You don’t have to pretend, baby. We both know how much you love this dick.” He didn’t stop, bullying your cervix with the tip of his cock, prolonging your climax, “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby.” 

But each time, you would run away from him. Claiming it was a mistake, and that it wouldn’t happen again. (Spoiler: it did.) 

He would find any excuse to get you riled up, poking you in ways only he could. If this was the only way he got to be close to you again, he would do it, no doubt. 

“We can’t keep doing this.” You said while putting on your bra. Shame screaming in the back of your head. 

"You always say that." He lies on his arm, looking at you with a smirk. 

“I need to move on, Zoro.” A sob escapes your lips. This worries him, making him want to comfort you. “I can’t keep doing this to myself.” 

"Give me a chance to prove you I've changed." He grabs your hand and looks you in the eyes, "Let me make it up to you. I won’t repeat the same mistakes.” 

You contemplated it for a second. The man you so desperately love is right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but you can’t bring yourself to believe him, “I don’t trust you, Zo.” 

He watches you walk away from him, and once again, he doesn’t know how to stop you.  

Sanji 

He’s a whore. Plain and simple. This is not to say he cheated because he didn’t... but flirting with everything that moves is just as bad. 

He’s at a loss when you break up with him, claiming it came out of the blue. 

“I don´t understand, my love. I thought we were okay.” “You can’t flirt with my friends and expect me to be okay with it.” “I'm just complimenting them, love. Every woman deserves to feel appreciated.” 

Yeah, well, now he can appreciate them all he wants. 

Do you want him to beg? He’ll do it, every day, all day. 

Flowers and desserts are always present at your desk first thing in the morning. 

Poems attached to gift bags at your doorstep when you come back from work. 

Long texts professing his love and how much he misses you. 

You gave in after a couple of weeks. 

He seems genuinely sorry. He’s been attentive, caring, loving, and you are, mind-numbingly, in love with the chef. Why not give him another chance? 

You look into each other's eyes while his fingers trace up and down your skin. “I missed you so much, sweetheart.” His mouth presses against your neck, leaving small, red marks on it. 

 “Sanji.” You whimper, running your nails against his back. 

He’s slow to undress you but covers your body in kisses as he pulls off every piece of clothing. He whispers sweet promises against your body while his hands dance across your skin. “Don’t ever leave me, my love. I thought I’d die without you.” 

You press your hand against his clothed member, making him whimper in your mouth. Both of you are hungry for more, longing for each other’s body and love, “please, Sanji, make love to me.” 

And that’s all it takes. Sanji is inside you in a second, chasing your and his pleasure. His thrusts are desperate and uneven, but you couldn’t care less. "You feel so good, baby. Shit, so good, so good." He’s pussy drunk on you. 

In the morning, you wake up feeling good and loved. 

His scent and warmth still linger on the bed. The house smells like syrup. Your body aches in a good way. Could it get any better? 

The moment you open your phone, you see it. 

A heart-eyed emoji under Nami’s latest post. 

That mother fucker. 

You gather your clothes, shoving yourself into them, eager to get out and never see him again. Just as you are about to open the door, he does. A breakfast tray in his hand, makes your stomach grumble, but you refuse to acknowledge. 

“Good morning, my sweet.” He places the food on the bed, “Why are you up? I thought we could have breakfast in bed.” 

“I’m leaving, Sanji. Last night was a mistake.” You can’t look him in the eyes cause if you do, you know you’ll give in. 

“What? But I thought,” He stutters, “I thought everything... I... We were fine.” 

“We weren’t, Sanji.” You grabbed your bag, “Don’t call me.” 

Ace 

The absolute worst kind of ex. The perfect one you can’t seem to hate. 

You broke up because you start to notice how much he loves being free, so much more than being in a relationship. He’s the flirty type, consciously or not, it was just who he was. 

He won’t deny it, but he’ll say he likes meeting new people. 

He will respect your decision, even if it breaks his heart. Sometimes wonders if he should have fought harder for you. 

You try to stay friends. At the end of the day, Ace is loyal to those he loves and cherishes, and you aren’t willing to lose that. (And selfishly, you don’t want to give him time to be on someone else’s lips.) 

Both of you act like nothing ever happened. Pretending it wasn’t a big deal, and you are okay with going back to being friends. 

Outings with your friend group are the perfect excuse to see each other, neither of you brave enough to admit how much you miss the other. 

Robin tries to set you up with one of her coworkers. Ace prays to God he doesn’t show up, or he’s a complete pig. 

He suffers in silence every time he sees someone hitting on you at a bar. (In silence meaning that everyone in the room can tell his fuming.) 

“Why won’t you admit you miss her?” “Y/n and I are better off as friends, Marco. Don’t worry about it.” 

Then why won’t you leave his bed? 

Ignited by the feeling of missing each other (and the amount of alcohol in your systems), you are back on his bed. 

“You are such a good view.” He moans, one hand grabbing your ass while the other one rests behind his head. Enjoying the way you bounce on his dick. 

You threw your head back, legs about to give in, but desperate to feel his cum inside you, “Ace!” You whimper. 

“Already tired, princess? Oh, but you are doing such a good job.” Ace loves to tease you, but even more than that, he loves making you cum. Both his hands on your hips and feet placed on the bed, making you lean on his knees, he takes over. 

Chest to chest, your face against his neck, you cry out, begging him to make you cum, and for him to fill you up with his cum. "Please, Daddy, please, make me cum.” 

He smirked, “didn’t know how much I missed you calling me that.” He spanked you, "Don't worry, baby, Daddy'll give you what you want.” 

You love your bed, but it loves him too. It'll happen at the same time every weekend. 

But you know it must stop. You love him and you can’t keep hoping that someday he’ll change. 

So, you’ll make the most mature choice you can think of. You ghost him. 

You won’t answer the phone when he calls, messages, emails, or anyway he can contact you goes unanswered. You don't show up to events or plans when you know he will. 

And it works..., for like two weeks. 

It’s seven a.m., and some maniac is banging on your door. With dry spit on your cheeks and puffy eyes, you answer the door, wondering who the fuck dares disturb you on your day off.  

“Ace.” Shit. 

“Yeah, may I know why you are ghosting me?” 

“I, I am not.” You stutter. 

“Don’t lie to me.” He shoves his way into your apartment. “What’s going on, Y/n? Why are you avoiding me?” 

“Because we can’t keep doing this, Ace. I can’t keep allowing myself to fall for you when you don’t want me like that.” 

“You were the one who wanted to break up, not me.” 

“That’s beside the point, Ace. Please, don’t make this any harder.” 

“Can we at least talk about it?” 

“Leave, Ace.” 

Law 

Sometimes, you don’t know if he’s dating you because he loves you or just to shut you up. 

He cares, and you know that, but words without actions are just that. 

He’s a doctor, and you understand he’s busy, but the fact that you have to break up over the phone cause he’s too busy to talk in person makes you feel better about your decision. 

It’s not until he finishes his shift that reality hits. Twelve hours later. 

Drowns himself in work to try and forget you. Sometimes he forgets he’s human and still can hurt. 

He won't call, text or contact you to talk things over. At least not in the beginning. Do you want to break up? Fine. He’s got too much going on to deal with you. (That’s what he says to convince himself.) 

Starts noticing how much you loved him, and how much he took for granted. 

Homemade lunches and snacks that no longer sit on the counter when he’s leaving for work. No random texts throughout the day that pull him out of the rut. No one waited for him at home, and no one filled his days off. 

Law spends hours looking at his phone, contemplating whether he should call or not. What would he even say? Sorry? I miss you? I’m a fucking mess without you? 

He cringes at the idea of acting that vulnerable. 

“Didn’t know you and that girl had broken up.” Law barely heard the other doctor, too busy disassociating himself in a cup of cold, bitter coffee. 

“Huh?” He’s too drowsy for this. 

“Yeah, I saw her last night at that new club. She looks great, no wonder she had all those dudes trying to take her home." He laughed mockingly. "If I didn't respect you enough, I would have given it a try, oh well.” 

The comment makes his blood boil, but he doesn’t say anything. 

After that, it doesn’t take much for him to contact you. Men and their fragile egos. 

“Hello?” ... “It’s me.” 

You no longer have his contact saved on your phone. It’s been months. 

“Okay? What do you need, Law?” “Can we talk?” 

Oh, now he wants to talk. 

You go to his place, as per his request. Talking turns into crying, then into yelling and onto you being pounded on his bed. The flesh is weak, and you are even weaker for this man. 

Your knees are next to your ears, tears dripping down your cheeks and his dick shoving his way in and out of your cunt. You can barely breathe, and your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton. "God, Law." 

“Miss me, babygirl?” His thumb pushes on your overstimulated clit, making you clench even harder around him, “do you miss my cock, love?” His thrusts won’t let up even if you cum he won’t stop, not until you are dripping out with his cum. 

You are shaking, your lungs feel like they are on fire, and your core is so sensitive everything he does throws you over the edge. But you want more. You need more. 

"No one can make you feel the way I do. Don't ever forget that." He says right after he spills his seed inside you. His fingers push it right back inside once it threatens to come out. 

But when morning comes, everything goes back to the way it was.  

You can’t go through it again. The lonely nights, the missed anniversary dinner, the unanswered texts. You won’t go back to feeling unloved. 

“You don’t have to go.” He whispers while watching you put back your clothes. 

You shake your head, "This was a mistake, Law." You grabbed your phone and looked for your purse. 

“I know I fucked up, but...” You cut him, done. 

“It’s been months, Law. I think we are past that." You close the door of his room and on you two. 

[evilminji]

"DO BETTER!" Says Now Televised Fanboy

He, Dash Baxter is a Phan-Stan!! It's kinda his thing. See, he's a fancy ass talk show host now. Married Paulie, moved out of Amity, actually DID something with his life. His parents? Did not approve. Long n short of it? He got kicked out.

Paulie's parents were PISSED.

Retaliated by giving him all the help he needed getting EVERY scholarship he qualified for. He went to a really nice college. Missed his girlfriend like mad. But she was off in Metropolis, terrifying weaker men. Conquering the fashion scene.

And SOMEHOW? Thanks to that long talk he had with Phantom (*incoherent fanboy gibbering noises* SO COOL!) he's worked to be... more of a LEADER, you know? Less of an asshole. Cause he's popular. People copy him. He can't be an asshole.

So, somehow, when he's punching out some try-hard that thinks he's hot shit for bullying a Nerd? He and the nerd get talking, right? Cause the guy got his glasses completely fucked up. And it's what Phantom would do.

But GET THIS? Guy's never HEARD of Phantom! Is super curious, cause he runs a small time Hero's show on the web. And, Dude? Is it your LUCKY DAY! Cause you just met THE number 1 fan of Phantom, hands down!! He makes his VERY spirited case, about why Phantom is THE best Hero to ever have lived. And this guy?

Entranced.

In AWE.

Just straight up BEGS him to join his show. Cause apparently? He was BORN for it. Which? Yeah. He HAS been giving speechs to the team for YEARS now. And Talking at fan meet ups. Leading fan meet ups. Hosting parties... actually, now that he thinks about it? He DOES do a lot of public speaking? Huh.

But still, he's about to say "no", when?

Dude mentions? He'll get to talk about Phantom.

SOLD!

It. Blows. Up. Absolutely EVERYONE is in love with his pretty face, hot bod, and STRONG opinions. But they ALSO have no idea who Phantom is! Paulie! This is CRIMINAL! Horrifying! What is going ON!?

Some bullshit information black out, apparently. At least according to her... friendly Nemesis? The Goth Dweeb. Who's engaged, apparently? So good for her. Unsurprisingly, it's too the OTHER Dweebs, but still. Bout time she started planning to drag them to a court house. She's the only one with any spine in that group! If she waited for THEM to propose?

Not even as Ghosts, man.

They'd get distracted by shiny nerd shit and whimp out.

Still... a world where NO ONE knows how Awesome, Phantom is? Not on HIS watch!

So he works it in. To every segment. It becomes "his thing". Oh? Super man saved a kitten from a tree? Cute. Well PHANTOM saved a bus full of Ghost Puppies from a shady, rouge, Goverment agency. Do BETTER, Superman!

The Flash, who is a cheap knock-off and stole his name, took down an Ice Villian? Adorable! PHANTOM stopped a Rouge WINTER SPIRIT with the help of YETI WARRIORS then assisted in giving FREE medical care for anyone who needed it! Here's a picture of him making GHOST ICE SNOWMEN for small children! Do BETTER, Knock-off!

What's THAT you say? Wonder Woman fought a GOD in down town paris?

Excellent work Wonder Woman. Flawless as always. But YOU, god-boy, are a disappointment! All that power! And WHAT do you use it for? Are you even supposed to BE here?? PHANTOM uses his power to HELP people! Is awesome and knows TONS of better gods! You're just salty you didn't make the cut!

DO BETTER!

And obviously? No one believes him. There's no record of this "Phantom" guy. The pictures look fantastical and vaguely glitchy/glowy. Not quite right. They GOTTA be photo shopped. Manipulated somehow. But? As a shtick? A fake "perfect Superhero" is kinda funny and unique.

And it's one hell of Fake Hero!

A Dead Champion? Who fights gods and monsters? Rouge agencies? Sassy and tragic? With a mysterious past? Pretty cool! There's even an Offical Comic from some guy that went to the same high-school as Baxter!

Of course, as Baxter get more and more popular? The "meme" hero, Phantom, get more well known? People get more interested in where Dash grew up. You know, just a bored Google. Maybe see if the hero was based off a local legend or something. But... huh...

The Town website?

Weirdly? Sanitized.

Like... like aggressively sanitized. All smooth edges and no details. Very "move along, citizen". Ha ha... it's part of the joke right? They get it! They'll just look up local restaurants or som-....

Wait...

Hey, guuuuys?

Are you finding ANYTHING?

And! Nothing. And I do mean NOTHING! Triggers the "oh? Secrets???" Instincts of a Hacker, like finding a hard blank wall of "KEEP OUT". Especially when it's somewhere it rightfully shouldn't BE.

All it would take? Is ONE person, of decent skills and an account on Certain Forums, getting bored enough to Google the Dude On The TV(TM)? For the GIW's lil walls to come crashing down. Because yeah, you can stop ONE hacker. Even two. Probably five or six.

But how about thousands?

Hundreds of thousands?

From every time zone. Competing. Just to see what you HAVE and don't want them to see. Maybe they do something with it, maybe they don't. But fuck it, you're being RUDE and now they're CURIOUS. And THEN? Oh. Oh holy shit.

Not a meme.

Very real.

Not a joke.

The walls come crumbling down, down, down. Ripped apart by hundreds of hands. Emails sent to every sort of agency. The JLU line inundated with emergency tips. Not a joke. Not A Joke. Holy Shit, IT WASN'T A JOKE!

Phantom is REAL!

And there, on TV, stands the Man. The signal FINALLY breaching containment. Fighting off the invading God of the week. Built like statue, hair like an aurora borealis of white fire held almost delicately in place by a CROWN of ice, a suit made of void and starlight. Inhuman. Beyond human.

Here to help.

A laugh that crackles like ice and the snap of winter, rolls through the air like coming storms, rich and somehow warm. A smile that bares teeth, yet turns so KIND when he looks upon humanity, as though we are precious and worth fighting for. A living star.

A... a once living star.

And in the center of it all? Wearing his BESPOKE, custome made, Number 1 Phan full body outfit? That's right. Dash Baxter. Ha! You fuckers doubted him! Behold his blorbo and WEEP, ya fuckin casuals! The BESTEST of boys! The FINEST of Heros! Superman? Could NEVER.

And now? The weather!

@babbling-babull @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation

[thepromptswhisperer]

"I'm weak for you." Prompts

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Ha. Don’t think too highly of yourself. Just because I crave your company every now and then, doesn’t mean you’re my weakness. You’re not.”

“I can’t control myself around you. Don’t even want to.”

“Fiiiiine. I’ll do it. For you. Just for you.”

“Why do you have to make keeping a distance from you so damn difficult? I’m trying my hardest and you just…”

“That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it.”

“Having a weak spot for someone doesn’t equate to wanting to be with them. Those are two completely different things.”

“Why can’t I say ‘no’ to you?”

“It scares me to see how far I’m willing to go for you.”

“No, wait. Stay- Stay back. I need to think rationally.” “...What’s that got to do with me?”

“You just can’t stay away from me for too long, huh?”

“My knees have gone a bit weak. Do you mind holding me?”

“It’s like… You have this power over me, and I- I guess I’m wary of where it might lead.”

“I don’t care about anything but you.”

“No other person makes me feel both weak and strong.”

“Stop it. Can’t you see that staying away from you is torture for me too?”

“I’m weak for you.” 

“You have me all wrapped around your finger.”

“I don’t want to scare you away with my… infatuation.”

“Right now I think you could probably talk me into anything.”

“You’ll be the death of me, [name].”

“You’re the only one I have opened up to like this.”

“Aren’t you at least a little ashamed of how blatantly you’re exploiting my feelings for you?”

“For you, I’ll take on any challenge.”

“(Fuck.) I need you to say that/make that sound again.”

“Just when I think you couldn’t make me go even weaker in the knees, you go and say stuff like that. Do you want me to collapse? Maybe melt into a puddle too while I’m at it?”

[nightblackowlbat]

Soulmate AU Dead on MAYn 25 day 1

Trope: Ghost culture is weird

Word: Bones

Scenario: Jason meets Dany as a ghost

Dialogue: “Wait, you can see me?”

Ever since Danny’s soulmate words came in, his parents’ attitude towards ghosts had done a 180. After all, what else but a ghost would say something like “wait, you can see me?” as an introduction? And if their perfect boy’s soulmate was a ghost, then ghosts couldn’t be all that bad. Jack and Maddie were soulmates after all, and they would never dream of trying to keep their son from his fated other half. (Maddie had the question “did you just build a spirit box out of a crockpot?” along her inner arm and Jack had “Obviously!” Stamped on his forehead.)

All that’s to say that the Fentons were no longer obsessed with catching any old ghost to study. No, instead they were obsessed with catching Danny’s soulmate to add them to the family. It made things pretty awkward when the portal opened up and the Fentons chased down every ghost to introduce their son, only to find Danny gone at the last minute and Phantom appearing to chase the other ghost back into the zone.

Danny was just about ready to die again of shame when Jack brought up the possibility that Phantom was his shy yet jealous soulmate, not ready to meet him yet but hating the idea of Danny meeting any other ghost first. Luckily Jazz pointed out that since Danny’s words were “wait you can see me?” It implied that his ghostly soulmate was a much weaker, invisible ghost that would only appear outside of Amity. Danny had never appreciated his big sister so much. He carefully didn’t mention that Phantom could go invisible at will.

Alas, one cannot stop a determined Fenton couple, only redirect them. Which is why they were on this grand family road trip to visit every cemetery and graveyard in America. Or at least, have Danny visit them. Jazz once again came in clutch insisting that nobody needed their whole family hovering around as they met their soulmate and demanded the parents visit colleges with her while Danny explored graves on his own.

Danny didn’t mind really, wandering around graveyards was far from the worst way his parents could have made him spend his summer. Besides, cemeteries were peaceful, beautiful even. And meeting (and teasing) the few ghosts who actually stuck by their graves was nice. Hey, as an obsession based ghost it was his right to poke a little fun at those boring graveyard ghosts who just stuck around their bones.

“Are you seriously haunting your own grave? I’m not sure I can think of anything more cliche and that’s coming from a ghost who goes by Phantom.” Danny tossed out as his usual cheeky introduction.

The ghost whirled around with a look of shock on his face. “Wait, you can see me?”

Danny felt his soul mark burn and his jaw dropped in mirrored shock. “Well I’ll be darned!” He laughed out loud. “I guess this trip wasn’t useless after all. Nice t’meetcha soulmate! I’m Danny.”

The ghost huffed. “Oh a’course I only meet my soulmate once I’m dead. Shouldn’a ‘spected any different given my weird ass words.”

“Uhm, I’m guessing you’re Jason? Or do you have a dead name you’d rather go by?” Danny nervously asked.

“Isn’t that an oxymoron? No one wants to go by their dead name. That’s the whole point.”

“Oh! Ghost culture is weird. Dead name means something different. It’s- a ghost’s dead name is who they want to be in death rather than who they were in life? Hmm. No, that’s not quite it. It’s who they always were, just crystallized and purified from everything that tainted it in life. Like, it’s who you are without life getting in the way.”

“Then. I guess I’m Robin. He can’t take that away from me now that I’m dead, now can he?”

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 0.16 you are cursed

PREV PART GOOD ENDING 16 trigger warnings: (threatened) violence, (past, kinda) medical + physical + emotional neglect, DRUGGING SIDE EFFECTS, anger, yandere behaviour, delusional behaviour, swearing, tell me if I missed any!   main m.list      series m.list bad ending m.list

You are going to kill Jason and Dick, even if it’s the last thing you do. Seeing two of your friends rush into your work covered in blood enraged you, it made you push away all of your weird symptoms. You told the supervisor on sight to call an ambulance, to tell them to bill everything to the Wayne household. Anisha, a co-worker who was a doctor in another country, taking care of them, performing first aid to minimise Willow’s bleeding.

“What are you going to do?” Francis asks you, but he couldn’t stand up to stop you. Anisha pushing him down (gently) back on the ground every time he tried to stand up. “(Name), don’t do anything stupid!”

You turn back to him and smile at him. It was as if your world is spinning, even though you don’t know why. You can’t decide if it’s anger or something else, you hope it’s anger. You cannot handle a health crisis right now, not when you need to beat Jason’s and Dick’s ass. “I won’t, Duke will be there.”

But what you don’t know is how he glares at your friends when they come to close, how he puts on a face of innocence around you. Sure, Duke is way better then the rest of your family, but your friends cannot help but feel like something’s off. It will be alright, Francis knows this. He knows that Duke isn’t as bad as the others and never could be. But he follows them when they go out, at least that seems to scare of the Bats.

Francis doesn’t want to let you go, but he knows how you are. He knows what you do, so he’ll warn Duke at least. “Stay safe,” he whispers, clenching his shirt in his fist. “I’ll text you how Willow is alright?”

You nod and smile weakly. “Tell your parents if Bruce won’t pay for his kids mistakes, I will.”

“...Thank you.”

With that you grabbed your bag and called out for a cab. “Where to?” the cab driver asks.

“Wayne manor,” you say, anger radiating of your face.

He nods, clearly confused by your anger and he starts driving. The drive wasn’t good for you, in fact it made you angrier the longer you sat still. Tapping your feet anxiously and biting your nails as you think about what you say.

Biting the skin off your fingers as you become dizzier, but you need to ignore everything. You cannot show any weakness, you cannot show them that you need help. You cannot give them a reason to force their presence upon you. But here you are yet again, paying a cab driver way too much (but then again, he can just see it as a tip for what he might witness) and walking around with no balance. Hyper ventilating from pain and dizziness but your anger keeps you moving forward (truly, Bruce should know by now that you shouldn’t combine medication with sedatives. Don’t you know how wrong that could go?)

“Master (Name)?” Alfred asks as he sees you basically pulling yourself to the living room. By the Gods you look aweful. “Oh dear, you look terrible!”

You wince, he sounds a bit too relieved. He sounds as if he might know why your body is acting like this, but you will focus on that after you fuck Dick and Jason up. “Gee, thanks,” you spat out, rolling your eyes as you pass him. “I need to talk to Dick and Jason, where are they?”

“They are out right now,” Alfred coos, ignoring how you are acting. Helping you stand even when you try to refuse his help. “perhaps I can help you, dear.”

You shake your head, you don’t want his help. You want to know where your shit heads of brothers are purely to fuck them up. You want to shout at them, scratch their skin off. But something is going wrong inside of your body, something is off.

You swear you are cursed at this point, your health always acting up when it shouldn’t. Always making you weaker at the worse moments. And here you are, needing help to take steps. “Something’s off,” you say out loud, as if to warn Alfred for what’s about to happen. But before he could react you puke over his shoes and you can’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction from doing so.

Alfred notices so, but he’ll stay quiet for now. He’ll re-educate you once you are a bit more complicate, less of an angry little kitten. But that doesn’t matter, your state does. The more steps you take and the more you fight him off the weaker you get, and oh he cannot wait to take care of you. He cannot wait to tuck you in once more, to love you as he did before. Truly he cannot wait!

But it does seem that he needs to warn Bruce about the dose he has given you. It’s way too much for your body to handle!

Truly you would expect Batman to be a bit more careful, but then again Bruce had always been reckless, truly it gives Alfred quite the few heart attacks.

And when you suddenly collapsed you sure gave him a heart attack as well! He’s just glad you didn’t fall in your own puke.

NEXT PART also a bit short but this is also a test chapter lmfao

taglist (open!): @justsaii, @bbmgirll