#there may not be much but i can hold that memory of them in a little box and revisit that box anytime i wish

[fev3rish]

I have a bit of a heavy request, so I totally understand if you decide this isn't one you want to do for whatever reason.

But it'd mean a lot to see Kenji comforting a reader going through a loss of a parent

SPARK. kenji sato x reader

you can always rely on him to keep your flame lit, and your spark alive.

cw. comfort (this fic is practically me speaking through kenji), loss of a parent (referred to as ‘they’), kenji loves you.

notes. this was recently requested and i jumped to write something for it. i am so, from the bottom of my heart, sorry. my love, i know no amount of sorrys will ever fix the loss of a parent, but i’d just like to tell you that in some way, and somehow—they will always be alive. they have touched hearts, people, places and objects and in them—their memory thrives. they have made an impact, on you and on other people. their memory will not die; because it will not be forgotten. and you will be okay, sweetheart. you might not feel like it right now, but you will be okay. it may not go away, infact—the pain might stay forever. but that is not something to be scared about. of course, the pain is scary—but pain is pain. and you are you. and you get stronger every day.

you feel so many things, but you can’t name even one of them. it’s a feeling you never can pin point, one you aren’t even sure you’ve felt before—but if you could describe it, you’d say: inexplicable. it’s arrival was unprecedented, and it’s gnawed on you ever since.

but you did what you could.

it was hard the first few weeks, but then eventually— you had to live on. you went about your routine as normal, with each usually easy task more strenuous with each day that passed. trying to move on, trying to move forward, trying to forget.

you could never forget.

you had so much to say, so much to do, so much to give—and you never got to do any of it. it left you devastated, but you’d rather be damned than let it show. you knew they would’ve wanted you to be strong.

you wanted to be strong.

you tried to be strong, to lift up the world yourself even if it felt like the whole sky was falling down on you—but you just couldn’t. you couldn’t bother, you didn’t want to; a sky without them living under it is a dull one. a boring one. it isn’t worth it. nothing seems worth it, anymore—nothing seems just right. you try not to let it get to you. it does anyway, so you try not to have anyone notice.

kenji does anyway.

he throws off your pristine routine and in extension, throws off your means to distract yourself. kenji pulls you into bed thirty minutes before you’re even supposed to brush your hair—and you haven’t brushed your hair yet—and that just throws everything off. that tips the scale too much. kenji sees the tears threatening to pour out of your eyes, and he takes your face into his hands and swipes away at each tear that threatens to pour lower than your chin. you want to tell him to stop, to tell you to stop; you can’t cry. you have to be strong. you must be.

kenji just wants you to grieve.

this time, you lay on his chest—your face buried in his stomach as you soil his shirt with your tears. kenji does not mind, because you are his love—and he holds you dear. you are a beacon of light; you are a candle with a strong flame. but candles can dim, too, and their flames can weaken. but kenji does not mind.

“sweetheart, baby, precious, precious—“ he coos, “listen, baby—i’m..” he licks his lips, hoping that what comes out of his mouth next will help you in some way—“i’m… not good at this type of stuff.” he admits, trailing off before he looks at you with a newfound fire in his eyes. it’s a fire similar to yours, which is fitting—you were the one that sparked it. yet, in the face of it all—and in a situation like this, it is his time to help you strengthen yours.

it is something he bears with courage.

“death… comes for all of us. it’s inevitable. but death isn’t really death, isn’t it? i’m gonna sound corny but—”he places a hand over your chest, where your heart is. “they’re there. it’s ‘you love them,’ not ‘you loved them’ for a reason. they’re still there. they’ve left an impact on you—a lasting impact. so long as it lasts, so will they. they’re still there, baby. just—just not here.” his voice is soft, the most comforting tone he can muster. he presses soft kisses to your cheek, and each time he does, he tastes the salt of your tears. it breaks him, but he can only imagine how broken you may feel. “you’re definitely going to be okay, baby. listen to me.” he prods, “you’re strong. you’re being strong right now. even if you’re crying. and you may not be okay right now, but you will be. you definitely will be. and i’ll be here for you through it all.” he concludes, before he pulls you into a tight hug.

as you calm down, you look at the window, where the sunset’s—remnants of pink, orange and yellow—a pretty sight to see, and one you wished they could’ve seen, too. kenji looks where you look, and he smiles. “i see they’ve taken up painting, huh? it’s beautiful.”

your lips come up into a teary grin, and kenji runs a hand down your hair—brushing through it like you were supposed to do yourself. you keep your eyes locked onto the sunset, and you realize what you had failed to all along.

you may have not been able to hold up the sky by yourself, but that didn’t matter. they had been doing it the whole time.

your boyfriend looks at you, admiring the view. he sees your face, and it’s obvious you just had quite the epiphany—but it is not his place to pry. it is only his place to protect. he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, but kenji takes a hold of your face. his hands caress your cheeks reassuringly.

kenji holds you like he’s doing his damndest trying to keep your flame lit—one hand on each side of your face— and that’s because he is.

you look back at him again, and instead of the coldness the tears would’ve left on your face—kenji thinks you just feel warm.

yes, everything will be okay.

in time.

[ariichive]

good food, good company

o. miya

in which osamu understands the meaning of: the best memories are made around the table.

fluff | domestic | reader and osamu have a kid | really fluffy | established relationship/marriage | fem reader | just a teeny bit suggestive towards the end

"pass the nori, please, mai."

osamu asked of his 6-year-old daughter without taking his eyes off of the rice cooker. "okay papa!" a sweet voice filled his heart with warmth; he looked up at his daughter, seeing her carefully carry the nori as if trying not to rip it. he chuckled at his daughter, taking the dried seaweed from her tiny hands.

"thank you, yer my favorite lil helper." osamu gave his daughter a quick kiss on the forehead before focusing back on his task: tonight's dinner. mai giggled at his praise and cheered to herself, "yes! anything to help ma."

"yes, anything to help ma," he repeated her words to her with a smile never leaving his face. he knew how hard you worked for your family, making sure you come home to dinner already made is the least he could do.

mai watched as osamu took a section of the now cooled-off rice into his hands.

"papa, can ya shape them into hearts or stars?"

"what do we say when we ask for something, mai?" osamu lightly scolded as mai pouted. "p-please..."

"there ya go," osamu smiled and patted her head gently, "yeah, we can do that today." osamu glanced quickly at the clock; 20 minutes until you get home. "watch me shape it, and then you can give it a go, sound good?" he watched his daughter nod excitedly.

osamu's skilled hands swiftly molded the rice into a heart shape, looking up occasionally to make sure Mai was watching. and she was; intensely at that. her eyes were sparkling in awe and her hands were clenched together. "doin' a heart will be easier for you than a star, okay? focus on those." osamu walked his daughter through her first onigiri, making sure her hands were wet and had enough salt on them. he showed her the different fillings of umeboshi and spicy salted pollock roe and how to apply the nori. when he felt she was prepared enough, he let her free.

starting on the star shapes, osamu hummed quietly to himself, smiling when he heard his daughter start to hum too. it was a very sweet moment which he got to experience on the regular.

eventually, osamu finished his onigiri. the perfect shapes staring proudly back at him. with a satisfied nod, he turned to see how mai was doing and-

-oh.

"honey, what happened?" osamu gently asked as he noticed she was holding back tears, her chubby cheeks pouting and little sniffles coming out her nose. her station was a bit of a mess, but that was the least of osamu's worries of now. "t-they w-won't stay together!" mai blurted out as she ran to her dads arms, hugging him as she cried into his chest. stealing a quick glance at her work area, he noticed the squashed pieces.

"s'alright mai, i'm here to help ya." osamu wiped her tears with his sleeve. "lets go wash our hands and i'll walk you through it again, yeah?" mai nodded her head as she followed her dad to their sink.

after successfully washing their hands and calming mai down, the two were back at the counter. "i'm thinkin' you were using too much pressure."

"o-oh.."

osamu noticed the sad look on her face and immediately did his best to fix it. "that just means yer growing up to be real strong, just like mama." at his words, mai's eyes lightened tremendously.

the two of them continued finishing up the last of dinner. they finished setting plates and getting glasses of water set down as soon as the front door opened.

"ma!" mai ran to the door, almost tripping causing osamu's heart to drop for a quick second.

"mai!" you squealed back with just as much excitement, squatting down to her level so she could give you a proper hug. "how's my beautiful daughter?" you asked with a smile. "good! papa and i made ya dinner!" at that, you looked up at osamu with a big smile. "oh, what would i do without you two?"

osamu gave you a quick kiss on the lips and grabbed your purse from you, "probably starve." you laughed at his words, choosing to ignore the little truth in his words.

as you all sat down at the table, osamu couldn't help but appreciate his family. this was the life he had always dreamed of, and couldn't imagine it with anyone else.

he stared at the fourth seat left empty at the dining room table. maybe another kid wouldn't be so bad right now.

osamu sent you a look that had you sitting up straighter in your seat.

literally loved writing this one ! I see osamu as a girl dad for sure

if you liked this pls reblog and like :)

[hxrukii]

❝I may not know what lies ahead, but I will live nonetheless❞

╭・๑ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲︰ʚ What would Lilia's relationship with Violet Evergarden!Yuu be like like?‧₊˚✦

‧₊˚↷ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫(𝐬)┊❝ Lilia Vanrouge ❞ ⸜⸜*

↷︰ʚ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ‧₊˚✦ I stumbled upon this post and just couldn't stop thinking about this au lmao, Yuu can be read as the same person as y/n.

╰・𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬) ‧₊˚꒰ mentions of abuse ɞ‧✦

If Lilia would have discovered that Violet!Yuu was a child soldier he would be devastated, furious and intrigued.

Devastated because how could they send a literal child to war; You were only 10-14 y.o!

He would definitely help Violet!Yuu figure out their emotions, especially help them understand the feeling of love.

Would immediately appear during emotional times and calm Violet!Yuu down and put them too sleep by singing them a lullaby. (There's no guarantee that he wouldn't start singing rock songs halfway through though.)

Would be furious at the way that navy officer treated Violet!Yuu. Definitely will remind them that they're their own person and not a "tool". If he could, he would've definitely had a "nice talk" with that officer.

Grateful that Major Gilbert taught them how to live for themselves and giving Violet!Yuu their name! He thinks Violet!Yuu's name sound lovely!

Will try to make Violet!Yuu understand that not everything should be an order and that they should learn to be more selfish.

Will definitely be intrigued by Violet!Yuu's fighting abilities, if it didn't trigger bad memories for Violet!Yuu, he would ask them too train with Silver and Sebek.

He might even spar with Violet!Yuu himself! He has to keep himself in shape you know!

Speaking of Silver and Sebek I think that if Violet!Yuu ever do train with them they would hold great respect toward them! It's not everyday that you meet a soldier from another world that survived a Great War as a child!

I also feel like though even if Lilia tries his best to keep up with the times, he definitely would love to exchange letters with Violet!Yuu!

Admires the way Violet!Yuu can express so much emotions through written words and wish that they would one day express without the need of paper!

Definitely helps Violet!Yuu take care of their brooch. Thinks that the story behind the brooch is adorable and very touching!

Would ask Idia to help you with their prosthetic arms.

If feel like Violet!Yuu would have an invisible stomach or something, so if they were to ever eat Lilia's food they wouldn't be affected. Or at least less than any normal person that is.

So Lilia would be most delighted is Violet!Yuu were to ever eat his food!

Finally! Someone who will eat his handmade cooking! Aren't you just the cutest?

Deep inside, he wishes that he holds as much space in Violet!Yuu's heart as the Major Gilbert! After all, they have known each other for so long! Isn't it only normal that we both hold a space in our hearts for each other?

꒰ ◁ ꒱┊❝Back to Lilia's Masterlist❞

[braceletofteeth]

If you want to be happy, I hope it comes true.

I hope you will be happy too.

[annamaryllis]

I would like to know exactly how luke asking annabeth to run away with him went down.

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 14

"Diamond on a Landmine” by Billy Talent

[flintbian]

Well, one year to go

[kelpiemomma]

"Khan? Who's that?"

Khan put his arm out, blocking Mina from stepping out behind him but also blocking the person approaching from going around him. He felt her hands grip his shoulder instead, hauling herself up to peek over. Though his face normally rested in 'bitch' mode he felt it shifting to more. His lips pulled back instinctively into a small snarl, a threat towards the one approaching.

He didn't like this person purely because of what he represented.

For the first time since he was a child Khan had found a friend. He'd found some sort of family. He'd carved out a place for himself, a home, in Hisui. He had gotten comfortable. And though he'd always known it was likely that it would end one day, that Ingo or Mina might recover their memories, that Akari might figure out how to move them all through time again, he'd been pretending that it wouldn't happen. That things would go on as they were. He could wander the land, maybe with someone by his side, maybe not. He could return somewhere to someone who would be happy to see him, who would greet him with a hug and ask about his wellbeing. How long had it been since anyone had been happy to see him?

The semi-peaceful existence he'd carved out for himself was under attack. It was unfortunate he hadn't realized this man had come through a rift or he'd have killed him before he could make himself known. Khan wasn't above that, wasn't above protecting himself and what he had found by all means necessary. Maybe it was selfish but he felt he deserved to be a little selfish.

"Do you know him?" Mina asked.

Unfortunately, yes.

He watched Emmet stroll towards them a few more steps, his face more lined and slightly more gray than Khan remembered seeing it on the television. The outfit was a far cry from that which he'd known before. He could recall hearing that Emmet had left the subway for one reason or another but hadn't realized the outfit had gone as well. The former subway boss had been looking behind Khan, looking at Mina, at his wife, but his gaze turned to Khan when his arm moved. His eyes turned sharp and steely, the smile going from something genuine to more like a baring of his own teeth. There was a challenge in his eyes.

Khan had never backed down from a challenge.

"No." Khan rumbled. It wasn't entirely a lie- he'd never met either subway boss in person before, only watched some of their commercials and shows.

"Well then, let me introduce myself. My name is Emmet. I've traveled a long way searching for some of my family. I believe they can be found here" The friendly snarl only got bigger. "Would you be able to help me?"

[ittybittybeastiebuddy]

Sometimes you sit in the car surrounded by people you love as the highway lights pass by and all you can think about is how happy you feel to have them in your life

[hivepixels]

.

[secondpersonpoetry]

Franziska Linkerhand, Brigitte Reimann

[elegyofthemoon]

i am so so happy youre crying over sakukallen- wait LET ME REWORD THAT LMAO they are my heart and soul and im so glad to see you enjoying them too!!!!

HOLDS YOUR HANDS WANRUUUUUU MY FRIEND WANRU HI!!!!!!

BUT YES!!! like so far, there isn't much sakukallen where i am in the story BUT with every piece i get i really really like their story ; w ; they're really cute and it just warms my heart to see ; v; so it's nice knowing another friend likes them too!! ; 7 ;

hope you're well friend!! 💞💞💞💞

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

The great thing about having an awful memory is that you get along really well with people with Alzheimers. "Grandma kept forgetting your name I'm so sorry about that" I forgot her name in that conversation three times also. It's not a personal slight. "Grandpa keeps thinking he's still working on the farm they sold twenty years ago" yeah he can't remember much and he's extrapolating from older memories and context clues. Like me trying to remember where I know the woman who talked to me for ten minutes in the grocery store from. The last thing he remembers is being a farmer and he's holding a pitchfork in the garden, of course he's going to farm shit. If I can't remember why I came into the kitchen but there's a teabag in one hand and a mug in the other, I draw the obvious conclusion and make a cup of fucking tea. "Auntie May mustn't have long for this world, she keeps forgetting her parents died years ago" bitch I get a sudden burst of serotonin AT LEAST once per week when I'm thinking about my stepfather and suddenly remember that he's been dead for five years. Stop riding these old people so hard. Put anything poisonous somewhere they can't get into it and let them live their fucking lives. AND STOP REMINDING AUNTIE MAY THAT HER PARENTS ARE DEAD AND QUIZZING HER ON IF SHE CAN REMEMBER. SHE WONT "GET BETTER". YOU'RE UPSETTING HER FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

[typingbunny]

I‘m obsessed with this

Him pressing her to the ground

His body covering her entire body bc he's so tall and broad, the feeling of his weight on her

The handholding that functions as pinning her down

His red ears (might be from the cold though)

The hand on her cheeks + kinda holding her chin just bc he can since his hands are so big

This is only a guess but convince me that he's not parting her legs with his resting one leg dangerously close to the warmth he "needs"

On that note: the ice melting during the kiss

His outfit is not only pretty but I bet fun to take off as well-

Warning: this is just smut, pure filth.

If you’re not 18+ this is your cue to leave 🚪

Zayne is the type of boyfriend that makes you ride him while looking into his eyes until you can’t hold yourself up anymore because it’s so intense and he’s reaching so deep.

He loves this view. He may be under you but don’t let it fool you to think you’re in charge. If he wanted to he could just fuck into you from this angle by slightly working his hips towards you and make you see stars. However at this point, how hazy you are already that would be just cruel … wouldn’t it?

This angle allows him a prime view to just watch you as you chase your high by using him as not more than a means to get that release you’re craving.

He’s obsessed with you. He tries to hide how much he really adores you because he doesn’t want to scare you away with how much he actually wants you, needs you, but he is sure you can feel his heart pounding beneath your hands as you straddle him regardless of his attempts to mask it. The heart cannot lie.

He reaches up and cups your perky breasts in his big, surprisingly warm, hands. They are so warm they feel like fire on your skin so much it feels like they are trying to burn themselves onto Zayne’s favourite part of your body. After idly caressing your breasts, Zayne changes up the soothing manner and opts for increasing the roughness of his touch as he alternates between massaging them gently to squeezing them harshly from time to time, a feeling that goes straight to your core.

The look on your face, that cock-drunk expression: mouth slightly agape, eyes struggling to stay focused threatening to roll back and you tearing up because of how good he is making you feel. Zayne has jerked off to your face more times than he wants to admit.

He gently cups your face causing you to ground yourself a little and make eye contact with him. His thumb strokes over your cheek in an adoring manner until it travels down to your lips. They are pink and swollen and for a second he thinks about sinking his cock between them, but not now. Now he wants you to cum for him while he is buried deep inside of you. Deeper than any other man ever was nor would for that matter because that is out of question. No matter the circumstances or consequences, Zayne would hunt down whoever tried to replace him. He could easily make it look like an accident. Sometimes his love for you scares him but that’s a price he is willing to pay.

“Open.“

He doesn’t have to elaborate, you know exactly what he wants as you start sucking on his fingers like a shameless whore. His whore. Only his. Forever. The little velvet box bearing an engagement ring, that has been resting in his part of the closet for a while being a token for that.

“Good girl.“

He takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and swirls them around your nipple and a tiny moan erupts from you. Zayne chuckles and you send him a playful glare. That glare doesn’t hold up long though because drinking in how sinful your boyfriend looks under you, you’re quickly occupied with trying not to cum but rather ingrain that image into your memory so you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.

Black hair pushed back, slightly tousled; most likely a result of your doings earlier when his face was buried between your thighs. His cheeks and ears are red, a telltale sign that he is either embarrassed or aroused. Right now it’s the latter. His forehead is covered in beats of sweat and his eyes are filled with something that can be only described as pure lust.

You’re brought back to planet earth by a cold pinch of your sensitive nipples and another moan escapes you. That crazy motherfucker used his EVOL and it felt good. Make lemonade out of lemons or whatever they say.

This was the last straw to your somewhat composure. Now you are clutching onto his shoulders to hold yourself up as Zayne continues his assault on your nipples.

“Zayne-”

Hearing you moan his name always does it for him. He can feel something in him snap, most likely his self control and his blood practically starts to boil.

“Come here.”

And then, with a swift motion he just scoops you up into his arms pressing your chest against his as he rocks you up and down the whole length of cock like his personal fleshlight. If you weren’t moaning and screaming you’d be in awe of how strong he is as he rocks you up and down hitting deeper than you thought was ever possible, muscles flexing beneath his perfect skin. In an attempt to get even closer to him you bury your face into his neck and let yourself be consumed by Zayne’s smell, that certain smell you call home. God the things you’d do for this man.

Clutching your thighs, his fingertips leave little marks that knowing Zayne, he will profusely apologize for tomorrow. Meanwhile you’re holding onto his shoulders for dear life carelessly leaving little crescent moons on his back.

He once pointed out, how much he actually enjoys you “leaving a mark on him”. First you thought it was a typical Zayne move trying to comfort you so you don’t feel bad about hurting him. But one day when you where looking for pictures on his phone for a little gift you were preparing, a photoalbum for your anniversary, you found an interesting picture.

It was Zayne in front of your bedroom mirror trying to photograph said marks on his back. You contemplated to tease him with the evidence but the mental imagine of big mean Zayne (that’s at least what others who didn’t know him thought of him to be) standing in front of your bedroom mirror trying to get the perfect picture was too adorable. What you don’t know is that once he got it, he just stood there in the middle of the room looking at the picture, 6’1 of lovey-dovey mush with a loopy grin on his face.

So right now you are basically clawing at his back amping up the scratches the more he moans and curses under his breath.

Once he can’t take it anymore and the only thing on his mind is breeding you as he cums over and over again deep inside of you filling you up until you beg him to stop, he embraces you tightly and flips both of you so he is on top. Your legs are wrapped around his waist and he feels your wetness all over him. Immediately his hands find yours, interlacing your fingers. What looks like romantically holding hands is his gateway to restrain you, holding them tightly pinned over your head so your tits are completely exposed.

His lips find one sensitive nub and he starts devouring you while looking up at you through his lashes, and you swear if he keeps that up you’re going to reach your high from this alone.

“Zayne please-

M-Move!”

He detaches from his favourite toy, his personal little make her dumb button so to speak, to look at you, a twinkle in his eye. For a second he imagines what it would be like to make you suffer a little bit and make you beg for it. Because he knows you would beg for him. Just like you have many times.

You’re so fucked out and desperate for him it turns him on so much almost hurts and though he swears couldn’t possibly be any harder he feels another wave of desire wash over him threatening to drown him. Not only does he accept his fate, the thought weirdly enough makes him beyond happy and he struggles to hide the smirk creeping up on the corner of his by now swollen lips as he goes in for a kiss and you can’t help but surrender yourself to.

“ Whatever you want my love.”

He leans down whispering in your ear, voice laced with desire, and something slightly … sadistic?

“Just remember, you asked for it.”

From that point on, only the gods above can help you and the bed frame …

I don’t know why but I picture Zayne to be less of a butt guy and rather a boobie guy maybe because of cardio lmao … 💭

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

[rolanpilled]

Facts about Rolan you might have missed, while you were busy saving the world

Spoilers for Baldur’s Gate 3 below!

Here’s a collection of some Rolan facts you may have missed during your playthrough. (These are all from memory, so I will edit this later with sources and exact quotes.)

He is not related by blood to Cal and Lia - You can find this information by speaking with his corpse. All three of them consider each other family, but Rolan seems to hold some insecurities about his position with his siblings. In the same conversation, he mentions having “no one” when asked if he has family and that he identifies as “Rolan, just Rolan” - potentially implying that he’s been abandoned or rejected by his blood family, if they’re alive.

Cal considers Rolan an older brother - If Rolan dies during his rescue attempt in Act 2, Cal confesses that Rolan is his “older brother” and “the person he looks up to the most”.

Rolan loves organizing things - He has overhead dialogue with his siblings where he jokes about wanting an organized, color-coded sock drawer.

You can try to convince Rolan to leave his siblings behind at the grove - Try to convince him to leave Lia behind, and he will admit she’s a pain sometimes, but he could never leave her, not even for his prestigious apprenticeship.

Rolan’s diary changes depending on if his siblings live or die - Self-explanatory. He obviously becomes much more depressed and angry if you fail to save his siblings.

Rolan and his siblings have known each other since Cal was at least eight - They have overhead dialogue where Cal mentions that, when he was eight, Rolan once conjured a cat for him, only for him to find out it was made of fire.

It’s implied that Rolan, Cal, and Lia share a mother figure - If Lia dies, Cal has dialogue with Rolan about throwing a party in memorial for her, “like [they] did for mum”.

Rolan, Cal, and Lia have unique dialogue depending on which of them die - This is self-explanatory, but you can see most of the scenes here. He also appears to have unique dialogue coded in act 3 depending on if he’s angry with you or not (if you disrespected Cal and Lia’s memories by calling them Carl and Liam), but I haven’t been able to trigger it yet.

https://twitter.com/gimblebock/status/1705080072489574619?s=46&t=ZnMav_9KejiNOZkZPad0Mg

Lorroakan hates to admit it, but Rolan is more powerful than him - Speak with Lorroakan’s corpse after killing him and having Rolan side with you. He will begrudgingly admit that his apprentice is more powerful than him. Side note, it can be implied that Lorroakan never calls Rolan by his name, as he defaults to “tiefling” or “boy” in their few interactions.

If Rolan has a high enough initiative in the Lorroakan fight, he will use Thunderwave to shove Lorroakan off the tower. Peak revenge.

Some of Rolan’s spells have his name in front of them (Rolan’s Thunderwave, Rolan’s Mage Armor) - Some people have headcannoned this as meaning he had to learn magic by himself, therefore being a Sorcerer. Considering his clothes are a unique color combination for the Sorcerer robes, it raises more than a few questions

Rolan always carries Lorroakan’s letter on him - This one always makes me so sad, pointed out by @sadwizardlover. Throughout the game, the one thing Rolan always carries on his person is the written response from Lorroakan to his letter, posted below.

Lorroakan also beats Rolan up😭 He'll only admit this if Lorroakan's dead though

That’s all! If anyone has any more to add to this list, shoot me an ask✨💞