#this post is becoming longer and longer every time i see it

[zversed]

DOCTOR, DOCTOR!

content: zayne has some trouble establishing boundaries with his favorite patient.

includes: zayne x afab!reader (l&ds)

tags: swearing, unprotected sex, creampie, medical play, cunnilingus (f. receiving), fingering, titty sucking, overstimulation, squirting, table sex, almost getting caught(ish), pwp

word count: 3.7k

minors dni. this post contents 18+ content.

“this is the third time this month,” zayne mutters under his breath, his voice heavy with concern.

you sit on top of zayne’s desk in his private office, covered in abrasions and cuts. your clothes are torn and stained with patches of blood. the mission had been a disaster—the area was overrun by wanderers and your team was severely outnumbered. while attempting to aid one of your team members, a wanderer snuck up behind you and a blast had hit you with brutal force, sending you flying a couple hundred feet. after what felt like hours, backup finally arrived just in time to pull you out of the wreckage. battered and bruised, you found yourself stumbling into zayne’s office during hospital after-hours.

“turn this way,” zayne says, his voice low and surprisingly calm. his fingers gently wrap around your chin, his touch tender as he guides your head to the right. he carefully squeezes a small dollop of ointment onto a cotton swab. his fingers slightly graze against the cut on your face and you wince at the sudden sting. the tension in the air is thick as his hand lingers a moment longer than necessary. the cool ointment meets your burning skin and you inhale sharply, your gaze catching his.

you’ve known zayne for years. from his subtle shift in demeanor and the way his eyes flicker with something unspoken— you can tell he’s upset. though, zayne keeps his emotions buried beneath a facade of calm. as much as you hate to admit it, you sometimes wish he’d just tell you what’s on his mind.

“you know, i don’t mean to come to you covered in bruises every time,” you sigh. “then don’t,” he retorts.

his fingers find your chin again, guiding you to meet his gaze. your eyes lock with his, and his gaze falls to the small cut on your lower lip. his fingers graze the tender cut and you flinch, his eyes never leaving yours. he reaches for the ointment before gently applying a thin layer with a swab.

in the quiet space between you, something shifts and you become acutely aware of just how close the two of you are. his breath slightly fans against your cheek as he speaks. a rush of heat rises to your face and you gently pull away.

“is that all?” you ask, deliberately avoiding his gaze.

“i still need to do a quick assessment to make sure everything is alright,” zayne says. you let out a soft sigh before gently nodding in defeat.

zayne’s arm extends behind you as he reaches for his stethoscope. for a brief moment, his forearm brushes slightly against yours sending a subtle jolt of awareness through you.

“take a few deep breaths,” zayne says, putting on his stethoscope. he places the diaphragm slightly below your collarbone and you inhale and exhale slowly. the cool air of zayne’s office fills your lungs—a sharp contrast to your flushed skin. “good, and again,” he says moving the stethoscope to the left side of your chest.

you catch a glimpse of zayne’s eyes—his gaze focused and steady as he listens. he shifts his stethoscope slightly lower, just above the curve of your breasts. the cool metal presses against your bare skin and you shiver. the thought of his hands hovering so close made the ache between your thighs much more apparent. as zayne continues to listen, you notice his gaze slowly start to drift downward, landing on the curve of your breasts. his eyes linger a moment longer than it should. his gaze, usually so professional, now tinged with a hint of desire.

“take another deep breath for me,” he whispers, voice wavering slightly.

suddenly self-conscious, you shift slightly in your seat. you curse yourself for not changing before coming to see him. you take another deep breath, your chest rising and falling slowly. as if suddenly coming out of a trance, zayne clears his throat. his eyes quickly shift up, avoiding your gaze. “your lungs sound clear,” he says, his voice a bit more distant than before.

“i need to listen to your heart to make sure it wasn’t affected as well,” he says matter-of-fact, yet there’s an edge of unease under his words.

as he shifts his stethoscope lower, the cool metal brushes slightly against your clothed nipple. your breath hitches at the sudden contact. “i’ll need to listen for a minute,” he says, unaffected by your proximity.

as zayne listens to your heart, a sudden warmth spreads across your cheeks as you try to distract yourself. his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, eyes narrowed as he concentrates. his large white coat is draped over his shoulders and beneath it, a white long sleeve button up and black tie peaks at the collar.

unconsciously, your gaze continues to roam down his body. though mostly obscured by his white coat, it was obvious zayne was well-built. most of the fabric of his large coat had been filled out by his broad shoulders. out of all of his colleagues, his frame towered over most-if not all. oftentimes, you’d catch him in passing on his way to the gym near your house. he’s often drenched in sweat, beads glistening as they drip down his chest. that damned black tank top would cling to his frame, highlighting every ridge and curve on his body—his abs and biceps painfully apparent. after every run-in with him you find yourself in your bedroom at night, fingers working diligently as you coax yourself to an orgasm. most nights, you wish it was his fingers instead of your own bringing you to release.

your eyes flicks toward zayne’s hands as he works. his hands are large with fingers long and slender. zayne is a surgeon, it’s a given he’d be skillful will his hands and fingers. you wondered how it would feel to have his hands all over your body, touching and teasing you. how it would feel to have his fingers inside you, pumping and curling against your walls until he has you screaming his name. if he wanted to, you were sure he could easily bend you over his desk and fuck you to your hearts content. since he works long hours in the OR, you’re sure he has the stamina for it. considering his large frame, his cock would surely—

“your heart doesn’t sound affected either.” zayne says, snapping you back into reality. the words cut through your haze of thoughts and you mentally curse yourself. this is zayne, your childhood friend—now doctor. the shift in thoughts make your stomach tighten and you clear your throat, hoping he didn’t notice you checking him out. you didn’t even notice when he stopped listening.

“that’s great!” you say sheepishly, your gaze dropping, unable to make eye contact with him.

“though, your heart rate is a little fast,” he adds. zayne leans in slightly, “any ideas as to why?” the warmth of his breath grazes your skin and you shiver at the close proximity. you could practically feel the warmth radiating off of him.

“you’re the doctor, you tell me,” you tease, attempting nonchalance. zayne smirks, amused by your avoidance.

“well do you have any pain?” zayne questions. you lift your eyebrows, a mix of curiosity in your expression.

“pain can contribute to an increased heart rate,” he starts. “but so can many others things—stress, anxiety, sleep deprivation, arousal…” he trails off, a hint of desire flickers across his features as his words hang in the air. the silence hangs between you like a taut wire, ready to snap.

you cough at at his words and chuckle nervously. heat creeps up your neck and the room suddenly feels a lot hotter than when you first walked in. as you contemplate your excuse, your heart pounds violently against your chest. you glance at zayne, and his gaze drops slightly, lingering on your lips before falling to your breasts. his gaze darkens as it continues to roam your body, tracing every curve— a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. is there a chance he…?

with a sudden burst of confidence, you decide to test the waters between you two. you lean in slightly, your faces now a few inches apart. the warmth of your breaths mingle, and your eyes lock with his. “and if it’s the last option?” you whisper. zayne’s breath hitches in his throat and he swallows hard, attempting to regain his composure.

hesitantly, you reach out and trail your hand slowly down his chest, stopping just above the buckle of his belt. swiftly, he grabs ahold of your wrist, “we’re in my office,” he murmurs against your lips, unsure if he’s telling you or reminding himself to have some restraint. his calm facade falters as he fights the temptation to close the gap between you two.

“it’s late and it’s just us here,” you whisper, your lips brushing slightly against his. sensing his hesitance, you pull back slightly. zayne’s eyes flicker with uncertainty. the weight of professionalism weighs heavy on him—you’re not just his childhood friend, but his patient. surely the hippocratic oath doesn’t mean fucking his favorite patient in his private office. but god, he could feel his cock straining against his slacks, begging for some sort of release.

“we shouldn’t,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

he pulls back, glancing at your face. your eyes are heavy with need, practically begging him to do something—anything. “zayne please,” you breathe, and the last thread of restraint zayne has snaps.

zayne’s hands are on you within seconds, gripping your waist possessively. his fingers press into your skin, anchoring you against him. the room fills with your soft sighs as his lips crash against yours, demanding and passionate. zayne kisses you roughly, the tension building between you two for the past years manifesting in the fervor of his kisses. as his kisses deepen, each one becomes more desperate and needy than the last. out of breath, you pull away slightly, your forehead resting against his as you struggle to catch your breath.

zayne’s hands tangle themselves in your hair. he pulls slightly, causing your head to fall back. you sigh in content as he places wet kisses along your jawline down to the base of your neck. “i shouldn’t be doing this,” he mumbles in between each kiss. his breath is hot against your skin as his hands continues to roam your body, squeezing at your ass and caressing your sides before making its way to your breasts.

his fingers work quickly to unbutton your blouse. in a gentle but firm motion, he slips off your bra, eyes darkened with need as he scans over your exposed skin. his calloused hands skillfully kneads the soft flesh, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. zayne quickly replaces his hands with his mouth, licking and sucking at your nipples. the room fills with your moans and sound of his mouth eagerly exploring your skin. as his tongue swirls around the hardened bud, your body arches in response to his touch. you tug roughly at his hair, urging him to continue. meanwhile, his other hand massages your other breast, fingers circling your nipple and giving it a slight pinch. you gasp at the sudden sensation, the wetness between your thighs pooling from his stimulation.

“zayne pleaseee,” you moan, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. zayne’s breath comes in hot, uneven bursts as he pulls back slightly.

“you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” zayne groans, his arousal evident as he presses himself against your clothed cunt. eagerly, he instinctively grinds himself against you, the friction sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

zayne’s lips find yours once more as his hands work to unbutton your pants. in one swift motion, he pulls the fabric down so it pools at your ankles. he urges you to lay back, the contrast between the cool wooden office table and the warmth of your bare skin causing you to shiver. zayne stands between your legs and grips at your hips, pulling you toward him so your legs dangle off the edge of the table. as he kneels down, he positions his face just mere inches away from your clothed cunt.

with his intimate gaze suddenly on you, you blush. zayne keeps his eyes locked on you as he plants wet kisses along your inner thigh. he places an experimental kiss over your clothed cunt and a breathy moan escapes your lips. your hips lift slightly as zayne pulls off your panties, leaving your bare cunt exposed to him. his fingers gently toy with your clit, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. you let out a soft gasp of his name, head falling to the side when you catch a glimpse of his office door. your eyes widen in shock when you realize you forgot to lock it when you first stumbled in.

“zayne the door,” you breathe, shifting slightly in an attempt to push him off. though your half-hearted effort remains in vain as zayne begins to suck on your clit, his fingers gently teasing the entrance of your hole. if anyone had walked in right now, they would see you, flat on dr. zayne’s office table with his mouth and fingers deep in your pussy. your cunt clenches involuntarily at the thought of someone walking in and seeing you like this—horny and so desperate for dr. zayne’s cock.

your breath halts as you hear footsteps echo down the hallway. “zayne, the door is—”

“it’s bad manners to interrupt someone who’s eating,” he mumbles against your cunt. as his tongue flicks expertly against your clit, two of his fingers deftly pump in and out of your sopping walls. as he continues his assault, you flush at the sound of your cunt squelching around his fingers. zayne slightly curls his fingers up, your body twitching in pleasure as he brushes against your g-spot, the unlocked door soon forgetten.

“oh fuuck, zayne, yes,” you gasp, hips instinctively grinding against zayne’s face. he moans against your cunt, tongue dipping into your soddened hole as his fingers continue to curl against your g-spot. your thighs threaten to come together, and zayne, unamused, uses his spare hand to hold your thighs open. your breaths come in ragged gasps as zayne continues his ministrations.

each flick of zayne’s tongue sends waves of pleasure coursing through you as he navigates your most sensitive areas. his fingers move in tandem, your body responding eagerly to him. zayne’s eyes glint with a mix of hunger and admiration as he studies your reactions, reveling in the way your body reacts to him.

as you teeter on the brink of your orgasm, your body begins to tense. every flick of zayne’s tongue against your sensitive bud sends you spiraling closer to the edge. your moans progressively get louder as you slowly reach your peak, stomach coiling, and threatening to come undone. your hand finds its way to zayne’s hair, tugging him closer to your core. zayne’s tongue flicks harshly against your clit, pushing you over the edge. you cum with a guttural moan and your body trembles as zayne holds your legs open, slowly lapping up your juices.

“god, you taste good,” he groans, savoring your taste as he palms himself through his slacks. zayne places a light kiss against your cunt and your body tenses, sensitive from your recent orgasm.

breathless and hazy eyed, you sit up, grabbing ahold of zayne’s face before capturing his lips against yours. his lips are swollen and covered in your arousal. your hands move to unbutton his white coat and shirt, fingers working diligently to reveal more of his toned physique. the way zayne’s shirt falls open reveals his well-defined chest, and you take in the sight of him. “enjoying the view?” he mumbles, a small smile playing on his lips.

“maybe a little too much,” you breathe, fingers trailing down the outline of his toned abdomen. zayne groans against your lips and kisses you with urgency, the remnants of your arousal still on his tongue. breathless, he pulls away, eyes clouded by lust. his hands move to quickly unbuckle his belt, his arousal evident as you stare at the outline of his cock through his slacks. you lean back on the table as you watch zayne through half-lidded eyes. he pulls out his throbbing cock, the tip glistening with beads of pre-cum and you moan at the sight.

zayne, his breath heavy with anticipation, positions himself at your entrance. with tantalizing slow movements, he teasingly brushes the head of his cock against your pussy, coating the tip in your arousal. each slow glide against your sensitive folds causes you to moan. you instinctively buck your hips against him, attempting to get any sort of friction.

“so needy,” he teases, chuckling to himself quietly before slowly pushing the head of his cock past your entrance. you gasp softly at the stretch, brows furrowing when a sudden knock reverberates through the room, causing you and zayne to freeze.

“dr. zayne, are you still here?” dr. greyson calls out from the other side of the door. zayne stills, the head of his cock still stuffed between your folds. your heart quickens at the thrill of potentially being discovered. your eyes flick over to zayne, fully expecting him to pull out and get dressed quickly. yet, you glance at him, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“i’m with a patient,” zayne calmly responds, his gaze unwavering as he slowly pushes the rest of his cock into you. a wave of pleasure and pain washes over you. your breath comes out in short, uneven gasps you struggle to take him. you bite your lip, trying your best to stay quiet. in the corner of your eye, you see dr. greyson’s shadowed feet retreat from beneath the door. the sound of his footsteps fade into the distance.

“shit,” he groans, voice low as your warmth envelops him. he can feel every squeeze of your walls as he buries the rest of his cock in you completely. the slickness of your arousal has zayne utterly fucked out and pussy drunk. a slight tension courses through your body as you adjust to his length and it takes everything in zayne not to throw your legs over his shoulders and pound into you. once you’ve adjusted, zayne thrusts into you slowly, savoring the way your walls pulse and gush around him. he grips at your thighs as he maintains a steady rhythm, each of his thrusts sharp and deep.

the room fills with your moans and the sound of zayne’s skin against yours. the faint creaking of the wooden table beneath you threatens to expose you both. the soft gasps of his name falling from your lips urges him on. “you feel so good,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes threatening to close shut.

zayne glances down to where you’re both connected. he watches in awe as his cock disappears inbetween your folds. as he pulls out, he groans at the sight of his cock glistening in your slick. you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you. one particular sharp thrust has you moaning zayne’s name loudly.

“you’re going to get us caught,” zayne whispers. yet, despite his warning, he doesn’t slow down. instead, he deepens his thrusts, angling his hips so they brush against your g-spot. the change in angle sends jolts of pleasure coursing through your body. the snap of zayne’s hips are urgent and deliberate, each one sending waves of ecstasy to your core. you throw your head back, and zayne takes the opportunity to trail soft kisses along your neck.

zayne’s thrusts become more insistent as he pounds into you harshly. he grips your waist tightly, anchoring you as he fucks into you with abandon. your fingers dig into his biceps as you hold onto him for support. the sound of your skin slapping against each other and the squelching of your pussy fills the room. zayne’s hands continue to roam your body before shifting his focus onto your clit. his fingers dance over the sensitive nub, every flick and stroke causing heat to pool deep within your core.

“oh, zayne—fuck!” you squeal, your hands instinctively reaching out to grab him, still overstimulated from your earlier orgasm. zayne curses under his breath as your cunt squeezes him tightly. his gaze darkens as he takes in the sight of you, tears glistening in your eyes from a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation.

“fuuuck,” zayne groans. he throws your legs over his shoulders, placing you in a mean mating press as he continues working his fingers on your clit. you gasp, your body instinctively arching into him for more. at this point, you were sure the entire hospital could hear the two of you, but neither of you seemed to care. zayne’s eyes locked onto yours as he sensed your body teetering on the edge of your orgasm.

“i’m gonna cum,” you warn, and with one final thrust, your body trembles as your orgasm washes over you. a rush of warmth spills forth, fluid gushing out of your cunt as you scream zayne’s name. your body twitches against his as he fucks you through your orgasm, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers words of encouragement. following shortly after, you feel zayne’s breath quicken.

“shit, i’m cumming,” zayne moans, his thrusts growing more frantic. zayne shudders as he buries himself to the hilt in your cunt and with a deep primal groan, he empties himself inside of you. you feel his cock continue to throb against your walls, filling you with his seed. you moan at the warmth pooling between your thighs. involuntarily, your cunt clenches around him, milking every last drop. zayne’s thrusts slowly come to a halt. as he pulls out, the warmth of zayne’s release lingers, seed spilling out of your puffy folds.

zayne rests his forehead against yours, a soft smile gracing his lips. “god you’re amazing,” he murmurs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. you giggle against his lips, “so when’s my next checkup, doctor?”

a/n: let’s have a round of applause for pussy eater zayne everyone! dr. zayne lives in my head rent free, it’s literally insane. also this took me way longer than i expected but whateverss.

[emeraldthelynx]

I've actually been thinking about this for a while since I saw this post. So, I have some ideas on how it would work.

The first episode has to be Suguroku getting the Puzzle from Atem's tomb. I know that this flashback takes place way later in the manga, but it has to be at the start in order to string the 'Shadow Games' and the 'Duel Monsters' parts of the series. The tomb would also need pictures of the monsters, as another connection. The first episode could be a longer Special, and continues with Yugi solving the Puzzle. Kaiba would have to be in the background of the classroom scenes. There long enough to know he's important, but not presented as the rival just yet.

I would think the plot beats would be something like, Gramps Mutou finds Puzzle, Yugi completes it, some sort of indication by somebody like an Item Bearer or even an odd conversation between Dark Magician and Kuriboh, but some party sensing that the Millennium Puzzle has finally been completed for the first time in 3000 years. During Season 0/early manga things, Duel Monsters could be hinted at in the background, with things like maybe a televised match of Kaiba becoming the National champion or Gramps Mutou playing a friendly, normal round of it against Yugi. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe that Gramps had Dark Magician in his deck, so there could be scenes where the Puzzle gleams in response to Dark Magician being played, which can help connect the ancient Egyptian Puzzle guy with a trading card.

Speaking of the Egyptian Puzzle guy, the encounter with Shadi is absolutely necessary to tie all the randomness together. Shadi has to be the first to indicate that Yami Yugi isn't just Yugi's other self, but maybe something more. More behind-the-scenes stuff needs to happen to. Things like Mokuba finding out that Yugi beat Kaiba, Pegasus watching the Death-T match, maybe even just somebody annoying like Haga in the audience at some point giving commentary. And concerning the Monster World game, the version of Zork in that game needs to be hinted at being something bigger. (Also... anime-Zorc's design needs to go, forever thank you.)

Once Duelist Kingdom is finally hit, things can proceed more closely to the original, but there needs to be little things that connect to the eventual Memory World arc, because that whole arc was never really expected I don't think.

A whole separate tangent would be about the filler seasons and maybe even Yu-gi-oh! R. Those things cannot be squashed in with the main storyline, and they absolutely need to be refined so they don't feel like every Yugioh fanfiction on FF.net. A good option would be films or OVAs. Since the Kaiba backstory can be covered with Season 0 stuff, we don't need the backstory filler. A term I like using for this stuff is 'another time, another place.' It's like the Pokemon movies being somewhere in canon, but not really part of the story. If they were to work at all, they would need to be put in the 'another time, another place' state. But just think about how much more interesting things would be if it was that way! A lot of complaints about the filler arcs is that they're too long. By having a series of OVAs or a couple of movies, all the good stuff can get condensed into a much, much shorter timeline.

I know that it would probably be animated by Gallop, but I would really, really like to see a different studio work on it. Toei would be fine by me, although I'm biased, and Bones would be amazing. (Again, biased.)

Those are just a few thoughts though.

When people are like “There should be a Yugioh reboot that fully adapts the story including the early manga” I’m like are you sure? You know that Yugioh’s story structure is batshit, right? You want a season full of random unrelated death games followed by an abrupt veer into exclusively card games for 20 volumes followed by an abrupt veer into ancient Egyptian political intrigue, which itself does a complete 180 on all of its own themes 35 chapters in? I’m not saying I wouldn’t watch it, but, uh,

[camirawrites]

still logged in. [part 2]

part 1

tw: obsessive behaviour, cyberbullying, mild swearing

fem!reader

word count: 1314

★ yandere!hacker who used to feel proud every time he wiped a troll off the internet, disabling accounts one by one. it was thrilling at first, the justice of it all. but lately, it feels more like a duty. because now you’re getting popular, and the wolves are circling. jealous viewers. fake friends. disgusting dms. whenever someone calls you a slur or says something cruel, he gets to work. one by one, they fall like flies. you never see the mess. you only see peace.

★ yandere!hacker who beams with pride from watching you thank the chat for being so kind lately, saying how grateful you are for having such a wholesome community. he smiles to himself, knowing it’s only because he took out the trash. after the fiasco with the company refusing to pay your sponsorship, your popularity has skyrocketed, with thousands of people flocking to your channel to support you. naturally, he's happy that his precious lovely lady is getting the support she deserves. but still, moderating your streams for free without your knowledge does pull his attention away from his data-selling business.

★ yandere!hacker who hears you call it fate. a "guardian angel" you joke, laughing off how the trolls just vanish. "someone out there must really love me," you say with a grin. he whispers "i do" to his screen like it’s a prayer. you look so radiant when you're happy, it makes the virtual blood on his hands so totally worth it.

★ yandere!hacker who notices the way your eyes linger a little longer on one viewer’s messages. a new regular. someone kind, funny, a bit geeky and nerdy. someone who gets your references. someone who makes you chortle with their witty remarks and comebacks. he takes a mental note of the person, who goes by the username sunnyboi.

★ yandere!hacker who at first tells himself it's fine, harmless. just a fan who wants to interact with you. but then they collab with you. they get your number. you talk with them off-stream. you sound excited. and after a few weeks of interacting with sunnyboi, you allow him to moderate your streams. it makes the hacker sick. it makes him furious. who the fuck is this bastard who dares to talk with you?

★ yandere!hacker who knows he fucked up by being too kind towards you and giving you too much space. he should have ripped the little weed out before he even got the chance to blossom. frankly, he feels hurt that you would give sunnyboi the role of moderator after a few weeks, whilst he works tirelessly day in, day out to keep your online space safe.

★ yandere!hacker who reroutes sunnyboi’s internet through a junk server. adds a tiny script that makes his stream drop frames every few seconds. enough to make things awkward and glitchy during your collaborations. a subtle chaos that makes him look unreliable. he watches as sunnyboi tries to laugh it off, fumbling with his settings while you stay patient and sweet. too sweet. annoyingly sugar-honey-syrupy-sweet. sweet enough to give anyone diabetes with your mere presence. you apologize on stream, covering for sunnyboi. the hacker watches with narrowed eyes and clenched fists. why are you defending him? why do you sound so worried? you're worried about the wrong person! after the stream, sunnyboi posts a long apology message in your discord dms. the hacker deletes it before you can read it.

★ yandere!hacker who sees how you slowly begin to lose patience with sunnyboi, complaining to him how he should appear more professional when streaming with you. after all, viewers need high-quality streams. he sees how you become more agitated as the weeks go by, and sunnyboi's stream quality worsens.

★ yandere!hacker who does feel sad whenever you're upset. you deserve peace, relaxation, and rest. but he brushes his feelings aside, convincing himself that he's only doing this for your own good. to teach you a painful, yet ultimately valuable lesson.

★ yandere!hacker who leaks a deepfake video of sunnyboi saying awful things about you, how he's only with you for the clout and popularity, how he finds you ugly, unappealing and a fake bitch. he digs into sunnyboi's past and finds things that are... harmless, mostly. old tweets, cringy posts, late-night vent rants. nothing that should ruin someone’s life. but he tweaks them just enough. adds a few lines. removes context. edits a few screenshots. crafts a narrative. lets it leak as well, fueling the controversy. the internet does the rest.

★ yandere!hacker who cackles like a mad dog when sunnyboi's monetization gets flagged. hate raids show up during his streams. it's a perfect revenge.

★ yandere!hacker who, as usual, hides his tracks well. nobody suspects it was him. nobody can trace anything back to him.

★ yandere!hacker who listens to your confused voice on stream as you defend the guy at first. "it must be a mistake... my lovelies, please refrain from making speculations until we have sorted things out..." but over time, your voice shifts. unsure. shaken. you remove sunnyboi from the moderator position and block him on all socials. you stream alone once again, only socializing sparsely with other members of the streaming community.

★ yandere!hacker who watches you fall back into your old rhythm, a little sadder, a little wiser. you’ve stopped talking to most people behind the scenes. you don’t collab anymore with the first person who is nice to you. your streams? they’re peaceful. your community is kind, mellow, tightly knit. you start laughing again and smile more. you start saying things like, "i think i’m okay being alone. Maybe i just needed time to remember what i’m doing this for."

★ yandere!hacker who clicks his tongue and shakes his head. "no, my lovely girl, you shouldn't be alone. you have me, your guardian angel." he bends forward and places a soft kiss on his monitor where your lips are. he imagines the feeling of your soft lips pressed against his. "you're mine... i'm always going to be there for you... your guardian angel." he whispers to himself.

★ yandere!hacker who spends his nights drawing fanart of you. cute stuff. sketches of you laughing, making peace signs, wearing cat ears. silly little au comics he never posts. obviously, it's an au where only you and him exist in the universe, where he has you all to himself. his room is covered in printed frames of your reactions, your memes, your merch. he makes stickers out of your emotes and slaps them on his pc. he might need to buy a new one soon.

★ yandere!hacker who submits one of his drawings under his alias, ilovenekogirls420. it’s a cozy piece of you sporting your signature merch, sitting at your desk with a mug, headphones on, eyes closed with a serene smile gracing your lips. you open it on stream, eyes lighting up as you gasp and share it with your viewers. "this is so cute!" you squeak, your voice radiating excitement you can barely contain. "ilovenekogirls420... i remember you! you're one of my regular viewers! you're so talented! whoever you are, thank you sooooooo much!" you pause for a second, almost asking who the artist is in real life, but stop yourself at the last second. "i wonder what the backstory behind your username is... oh, well. you must like it, and that's all that matters in the end, right?" you smile, close the fanart, and move on, reminding yourself to be careful. you interact with your "lovelies" but keep a respectable distance from them, not wanting to involve them in your private affairs. no need to make everything personal, right?

★ yandere!hacker who leans back in his chair, satisfied smirk plastered across his face, content yet cocky. he doesn’t need you to let him in.

because he’s already there. watching you without you even noticing.

[miks-delusional-blog]

HI HI HI if you take emoji anons I’d like to be 💚!!!!

can i request something with arkham knight jason x male or gender neutral reader?? it would be so so sick if you could do something where reader is arkham knight’s medic or something, something something “you have to learn to be more careful”

sorry if this is disrespectful and you dont have to do it, but thanks for listening and best of luck with your writing !!!

Personal Medic- AK!Jason Todd x GN! Reader

A/n

Hi! You may be 💚 anon! You’re actually my first anon request :)

Also it’s okay to request what you requested, it’s not offensive at all. I’ve never written male reader before so for this request I made it GN! Every x reader that I write is GN! Unless specified as fem! Though I do wonder if I’ve accidentally coded them as fem…

I hope you enjoy this one shot, I struggled quite a bit with the ending, and I did try out another type of storyline in my drafts but this felt like the best one? Lmao if you wanted to know what the other draft was about feel free to message 🫶

Enjoy! 💞

Disclaimer! I’m not a medic/know nothing about medicine so do not take any medical advice from this post please.

Tags: fluff, strangers/friends to lovers, there’s a smooch, w.c 1623

You have to learn to be more careful.” You grumble, sewing up another bullet wound chipping his shoulder.

This has become a nightly routine.

You’d come home after a 12 Hour shift, and maybe he’d already be waiting for you in your living room with a giant slash or a gaping wound. It’s a good thing you don’t have a white couch. Just a brown, very worn down, probably older than you, couch.

“What’s the point in all this armour if you still end up like this every night?” And like every night you complain while he sits quietly watching you at work, his hand kneading the armrest.

He doesn’t usually talk too much. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t like you, but he must tolerate you to always come back.

“Are you almost done?” He asks in a low voice, strained but almost soft. Not how he used to talk to you.

When he first fell on your fire escape he was covered in blood and pushed a gun at your chest, threatening to kill you if you even touched him. Now he was in your living room quiet as a mouse, no longer too shy to keep his helmet on as he let you work.

Of course you knew who he was. At this point, who in Gotham hadn’t heard of the Arkham Knight? You don’t know why you hadn’t called the police on him. You suppose it’s because he wasn’t so scary like this.

And the fact that you happened to keep finding hundred dollar bills on the coffee table after he’d left didn’t push you to really want to. Student debt and the cost of living crisis is a real bitch, some of us have to eat.

It’s probably a bad idea to have a man like this in your apartment.

You finish closing the wound, “almost good as new. Don’t tear this one. Let me see the one from last week.” you take off your gloves and set your tools down in a tray as he stripped off his chest plate.

You crouch in front of him analysing the wound. Gently pushing at his chest, “Sit up… relax a little.” Your finger brushes over the stitches. “Might have to keep them for a few more days, especially considering you tore them before. Would it kill you to have a few days rest? The more injuries you get, the harder it is for old wounds to heal.”

“I can barely take the time to sleep.” he finally looks into your eyes. Blue, almost gray. And you realise how close the two of you are, as if you weren’t just sticking a needle and suture in him.

“Are you sleeping?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“... Few hours.”

“Few hours? Should be at least six.” You roll your eyes with a slight playfulness. “Though with your injuries, maybe eight…You need to look after yourself better.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Well excuse me, you’re the one who keeps me up. Why do you keep coming back here? Hospitals are 24/7.” You move to sit more comfortably on the couch. Your knee bumps his for a moment as your head lulls to the side, pressing your cheek against the couch cushion. A small wave of tiredness hits.

“I think you know why I can’t just go to a hospital.” He huffs. “ And you get the job done.” He sits back, his breath hitching a little from soreness.

“With a lot of complaints.”

The corner of his lip twitches up, “Certainly with a lot of complaints.”

“This isn’t exactly the most sterile environment. And I know you could easily find someone to do this more efficiently, and not in their pajamas.”

“Suppose that’s true.”

“So why do you keep coming back?”

“Why do you keep treating me?” He turns to you.

“I can’t exactly say no when you’re bleeding out on my floor.”

“But you’ve never called the police on me.”

“...yeah…so?” You get a little embarrassed.

He smiles, it’s almost wicked.

“You’re good at bribing me.” you huff softly, “I’m in debt, I was living paycheck to paycheck. Now I can buy triple-ply toilet paper and buy a sweet treat once a week without breaking the bank.”

“What’s your ‘sweet treat’ this week?”

“... It’s stupid.”

He raises a brow. “Just tell me.”

You cross your arms, and shy away. “...Lego.”

“Lego? How old are you five?” he teases.

“Well five year olds shouldn’t play with Lego cause it’s a choking hazard. And I told you it was dumb.” You feel the heat rise to your face.

“So…That’s it?” he raises a brow.

“What do you mean ‘so that’s it?’”

“I don’t know… thought you’d get yourself something nicer.”

“Those things are nice. It improves my quality of life.”

“Lego and Triple-ply is improving your life?���

“My ass appreciates it. The tripe-ply, not the Lego.”

He chuckles. A real laugh. It’s the first time you’ve heard it and it almost makes you freeze.

It’s deeper than you thought it might sound. Though you’ve never really thought about what his laugh might sound like. But seeing him smile, a genuine amused smile… your chest feels warm.

After a beat, you sit up. “You never said why you keep coming back here. Like why you really come here.”

He take a moment to think of an answer. “I don’t really know… maybe because I know I shouldn’t… and I know you’ll never turn me away.” He almost sounds ashamed, no, guilty.

It catches you off guard. To think a man like the Arkham Knight can feel guilty. Especially after watching the news recently. But, the more you think about it, he was quite considerate of you.

He’d always try to help clean up after you’d treat him, which you’d have to push him back to the couch if he had a particularly gnarly wound. He’s never forgotten to give you money after seeing you. Always enough to replace the medical supplies used plus at least a hundred dollars.

“So… what I’m hearing is that you like my company?”

“Yeah.” He can’t seem to look at you.

“You know… I’d rather see you without so many injuries.” You say quietly.

“But then I wouldn’t-“ he pauses before looking up at you. Those eyes. You see he tenses a little before trying to relax. “I wouldn’t be able to see you… if I wasn’t injured.”

His admission makes you soften. The Arkham Knight wasn’t one to be vulnerable with you, or anyone you figure. Even though you’ve seen him without the helmet a hundred times, he’s always worn an emotional mask, and he’s never told you his name. A sarcastic nonchalant barrier, which you weren’t sure was to protect you or him.

You take a breath. “You can come here when you’re not injured too.”

“…Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?”

“I mean, why would you want me here? I’m not exactly good company.”

“You’re alright.”

“Just ‘alright’?” He feigns offense, but the corner of his mouth twitches up.

“I like your company.”

“Not just the Lego and the triple-ply?” He’s teasing you.

“I like those things, but… I think I’d be okay without them…” Your gaze wanders to the window. “Though, if you were to just never come back again… maybe I wouldn’t be okay with that.” You sigh, reflecting. “You’ve been coming around here for a while now… a year in a month. I think I’d be… quite sad if you decided to never come back. But I’d understand. I’m not the best medic out there. Sometimes I struggle with treating you… and I worry that what if there’s an injury too bad that I can’t treat here in my apartment? I really wish you’d be more careful, that I didn’t have to treat a wound every time you came by.”

You take a breath you’d hadn’t realised you’d been holding. “I’d hate it if… you died here… or if you died at all. I find myself watching the news more, so I know you’re okay. You probably think it’s stupid… some rando-person you barely know always so worried about you…”

Sometimes you say things you don’t mean to admit. But he’s always been a good listener.

It’s quiet, other than the hum of your fridge and cars passing by your apartment. Now you’ve done it, haven’t you? Said too much. Weirded him out. Annoyed him. Been too—

“You’re not some random person to me.” He places a hand on your knee.

You look back at him. Even he seems a little surprised by his gesture, but he decides to commit, scooting closer to you.

“I like your company too… I like a lot about you.” His eyes almost avert before he catches himself, staring deeply into your eyes.

Maybe his eyes are a little more blue than grey.

“I’d… never come here with something you couldn’t fix…I wouldn’t do that to you. And I don’t plan on dying here or anywhere else so you don’t gotta worry about that.”

You nod, falling silent.

He’s so close.

Your eyes lower to his lips before averting away. There’s no way you just thought about kissing him. That would be insane, right? But before you can even be embarrassed, he cups your jaw, turning your face to him and kisses you.

You freeze, not fully processing what’s happening. When you stiffen, it scares him and he pulls away.

He lets go of you in a panic, “Sorry- I thought-“

You stop him, taking his wrist, “Don’t- don’t stop…please.” You lean in close again.

Jason cups your jaw again before pressing his lips against yours. And it makes you think, maybe being his personal medic wasn’t so bad.

[justafewberries]

How did Katniss’s views of Peeta’s episodes change over time?

Hey, nonny!

This is going to be a sequel post to another ask here, where I discussed evidence for Katniss wanting to help Peeta out of his episodes in Mockingjay. 

In order to answer this, I’m going to separate Peeta into two characters: crafted image Peeta and Hijacked Peeta. Crafted image Peeta is going to be the idea of Peeta that Katniss has crafted in his absence. It is composed of everything “good”. Hijacked Peeta is the character post Capitol torture, specifically from the time he is rescued to the end of the book. 

I believe that Katniss detested Hijacked Peeta, but not because he’s Peeta, but because he’s a manifestation of what she feels like is her failure. She went into the arena with the intention to keep him safe, and she failed. There was a bigger plot in play, of course, but her feelings towards her failure overshadow the fact she largely could not have prevented what happened. Still, she spends much of her time in 13 feeling guilty for “failing”, so when she hears Peeta has returned, she feels this sense of relief. In her mind, she is no longer guilty, everything is okay, and Peeta is back. 

So when he strangles her, again, everything comes crashing down. She is once more condemned to be at fault, and she begins to resent Peeta for it. That crafted image Peeta she believed she was going to see doesn’t exist. She sees hijacked Peeta, a manifestation of what she tried to prevent, and it crushes her. She doesn’t admit this, of course, she runs, like I said in my last post. She doesn’t ask about him, she doesn’t visit, and she tenses up when he’s around. 

I don’t think she ever resents him for being Peeta, I think she resents what he has become. 

So when discussing the timeline of her warming up to his episodes, I’m going to credit it to Haymitch. In the Capitol setting, Katniss sees Peeta as a mutt. She doesn’t humanize him anymore because to her, she feels she has to cut her losses to survive. Could she ever actually kill Peeta if it came down to it? No. I wouldn’t even say she could do it out of necessity, as she didn’t pull the trigger when Gale was asking her to at the end. Here’s where Haymitch comes in:

"What are you trying to do? Provoke him into an attack?" he asks me. "Of course not. I just want him to leave me alone," I say. "Well, he can't. Not after what the Capitol put him through," says Haymitch. "Look, Coin may have sent him there hoping he'd kill you, but Peeta doesn't know that. He doesn't understand what's happened to him. So you can't blame him--" "I don't!" I say. "You do! You're punishing him over and over for things that are out of his control. Now, I'm not saying you shouldn't have a fully loaded weapon next to you round the clock. But I think it's time you flipped this little scenario around in your head. If you'd been taken by the Capitol, and hijacked, and then tried to kill Peeta, is this the way he would be treating you?" demands Haymitch. I fall silent. It isn't. It isn't how he would be treating me at all. He would be trying to get me back at any cost. Not shutting me out, abandoning me, greeting me with hostility at every turn. "You and me, we made a deal to try and save him. Remember?" Haymitch says. When I don't respond, he disconnects after a curt "Try and remember."

Up until this point, Katniss has been pushing him away and writing him off as violent. She’s not necessarily trying to provoke him into an attack, like she says, but she’s not exactly treating him compassionately, either. 

She can’t write him off as irredeemable anymore, like she has tried so hard to convince herself. That’s why I think this conversation with Haymitch was the turning point in how she begins to view Peeta’s episodes. This also happens a few chapters before the “stay with me” kiss from my last post, which provides more evidence for how crucial this conversation was in Katniss’s mindset.

Before that call, she was punishing Peeta for being a culmination of what she believed to be her failure. After that call, she has a new perspective.

[myblogmyspacemylittlecorner]

Snily x Grindeldore: A web weave by me.

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Ch 12: The Mirror of Erised

Fc: Anya Taylor-Joy as Lily Evans/Potter and Toby Regbo as Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets - Ch 13: The Very Secret Diary

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Ch 1: The Boy who Lived

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - Ch 4: Horace Slughorn

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Ch 4: The Keeper of the Keys

Fanart by @bella-the-proud-fangirl and @bluecrownedbird

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 18: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - Ch 4: The Keeper of the Keys

Fc: Laura Carmichael as Petunia Evans/Dursley and Ciaràn Hinds as Aberforth Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 28: The Missing Mirror

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire - Ch 27: Padfoot Returns

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - Ch 28: Flight of the Prince

Fc: Aidan Gallagher as Severus Snape and Jamie Campbell Bower as Gellert Grindelwald

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 18: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 33: The Prince's Tale

Fanart by @ham-tuitui and @man-luo

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 28: The Missing Mirror

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 33: The Prince's Tale

Fanart by @julvett and Lucy--C (Deviantart)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 28: The Missing Mirror

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 33: The Prince's Tale

Ellie Darcey-Alden and Benedict Clarke as Lily Evans and Severus Snape in HPDH (2) and Toby Regbo and Jamie Campbell-Bower as Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald in HPDH(1)

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 35: King's Cross

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 17: Bathilda's Secret

Fanart by @ahkaraii

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - Ch 26: The Cave

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 33: The Prince's Tale

Fanart by @hiancii and @swallow-the-bird

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 23: Malfoy Manor

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 35: King's Cross

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 10: Kreacher's Tale

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Ch 33: The Prince's Tale

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows -Nineteen Years Later

Fc: Timur Simakov as Albus Severus Potter

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child; Part 2, Act 4, Scene 15

Edit: I put another Snape - Grindelwald parallel in the post (them being dark arts prodigies lol), and also modified the Albus Severus Potter part and the first part as well (I wanted to highlight that both Lily and Albus have distinct eyes and that they were model students and magically powerful).

I also added one more parallel about Snape's and Grindelwald's antagonistic relationships with Petunia and Aberforth including them enacting violence (though it was accidental in Snape's case) on them.I also used Toby Regbo as Dumbledore and Jamie Campbell Bower as Grindelwald and used a different pic for Lily (I thought that since most of the meta covers their youth, might as well use their 'teenage' actors).Also I rearranged the Snape-Grindelwald parallels and the Petunia-Aberforth being antagonised by them parallels and I changed the Albus Severus Potter fancast too (he really gave me the, ✨ vibes, ✨ ,y'know?), and I added more fanart as you can see.

I also changed the Albus Severus Potter bit again.

[littleoddwriter]

can't stop thinking about Dmitri choosing what Sergei wears for the birthday dinner; especially because he does it in a manner that is so indescribably hot to me. (the way he looks him up and down, smiles almost condescendingly, but is clearly excited, tells him off for wearing what he does and wanting to stay in, almost whining about how it's his birthday and so obviously Sergei has to comply, already having a fitting suit ready at hand, etc.)

and so I'm just over here and absolutely running with that because nobody can tell me that Dmitri wouldn't do that with his partner, as well.

just- Dmitri choosing your outfit when he's going out with you (or for other occasions, or even generally), and you're both loving it because it's casual yet intimate, and it's also a great act of love and affection because in order to dress somebody in a way that makes them comfortable and happy you have to know them so deeply that it's transcending.

[b4kuch1n]

frog documentation. frogcumentation

I think I mentioned a while back I'd post nibling frog momence after the gift's done given. which happened on the 2nd this month I just forgot lmao. anyways we can do it now. I used the boigameista pattern scaled up to four pieces of A4 print paper and decided to double deck it to a two layer thing, not unlike a pillow, for ease of washin. because it was gonna be gifted to a one year old child

took a long time and made a number of mistakes bc hand sewing makes me worse as a person but this guy was done in time for the birthday occasion and that's what matters. chose non-fuzzy fabrics for it because we live in a dense city in the tropics and from personal experience if I hug something made of fur I would explode. the original plan included felt patterns on its back for bonus textures for baby but that wouldn't stretch well along with the rest of the thing so had to hold that back. eventually we got this

zipper across its ass, the coat type of zipper bc I miscalculated when ordering. but it did have a shape and that's all that matters to me. will be a fun game for the baby to grow up and be severely misinformed about what a frog looks like

happy extremely late birthday to this thing also

[icewindandboringhorror]

Apparently I can meet my goal of roughly 400,000 words in 6 months if I just somehow write at least 2,200 words a day ghbjh... Almost 2,500 today... huzzah...

[sabraeal]

Do you have any thoughts on “kaichou wa maid-sama?” You seem well read on shoujo!

I haven't actually read Maid-sama, though I did watch the anime a few years back. Love seeing Nobuhiko Okamoto get to be the love interest, thought the romance was pretty interesting, don't know if I'd heartily recommend it to anyone (sort of was a product of its time)

[itelya]

Nanami is attractive and the type of man women dream of. He clearly knows it but he doesn't feel any attraction to any of the women who try to have him in their bed.

But only one woman has managed to get his attention. It's you. Is it normal to see a woman so beautiful that his cock becomes so painful every time he sees her? He doesn't have the answer but he only wants you. He could be sick if that's not the case.

And he got you.

"Fuck baby.. your pussy tastes like heaven." He says more to himself than to you as he eats your pussy through your pastel pink panties of depraved just for him. His thumb tickles your swollen and sensitive clitoris.

"Nanamiiii!" Your toes respond to each other with the strong sensations he gives you, but the guilt of doing such a dirty thing in the meeting room catches up with you and especially doing it with your boss.

Your hands cup your mouth to muffle your loud moans. His eyes flick up to catch your gaze. "I want to hear you my slutty girl. It's okay if we hear you." He moves your soaked panties with his tongue and pushes them into your tight walls and you feel a small smile against the levers of your soaked pussy.

You pull your hand away and moan incoherent things from the immense pleasure Nanami is giving you. Your hands grip his hair which makes him moan. Your hips move spanking so that your pussy grinds against his face.

He looks at you intensely as if you are an angel. You are so beautiful in his eyes. His cock twitches and hurts so much against his expensive pants. He can feel the precum against the fabric. It's a waste for you.

"Imgonna! I'm gonna cum!" Small tears of pleasure fall from your pretty eyes. His tongue is active in your velvety walls and his thumb makes a frantic circle on your sensitive bud. "Nanamiii!!" Your grip on this hair becomes stronger.

You enjoy your mouth soaked with your sperm. He continues to lick you and drink your sweet juices. You taste so good. Nanami felt moisture in his underwear, he had cum too but without realizing it. You make him so dirty for his greatest pleasure.

a/n : I wrote quickly because it's been a while since I posted :) I haven't reread and if you come up with a longer version let me know. ⟢﹒masterlist

[physalian]

How to make your writing sound less stiff

Just a few suggestions. You shouldn’t have to compromise your writing style and voice with any of these, and some situations and scenes might demand some stiff or jerky writing to better convey emotion and immersion. I am not the first to come up with these, just circulating them again.

1. Vary sentence structure.

This is an example paragraph. You might see this generated from AI. I can’t help but read this in a robotic voice. It’s very flat and undynamic. No matter what the words are, it will be boring. It’s boring because you don’t think in stiff sentences. Comedians don’t tell jokes in stiff sentences. We don’t tell campfire stories in stiff sentences. These often lack flow between points, too.

So funnily enough, I had to sit through 87k words of a “romance” written just like this. It was stiff, janky, and very unpoetic. Which is fine, the author didn’t tell me it was erotica. It just felt like an old lady narrator, like Old Rose from Titanic telling the audience decades after the fact instead of living it right in the moment. It was in first person pov, too, which just made it worse. To be able to write something so explicit and yet so un-titillating was a talent. Like, beginner fanfic smut writers at least do it with enthusiasm.

2. Vary dialogue tag placement

You got three options, pre-, mid-, and post-tags.

Leader said, “this is a pre-dialogue tag.”

“This,” Lancer said, “is a mid-dialogue tag.”

“This is a post-dialogue tag,” Heart said.

Pre and Post have about the same effect but mid-tags do a lot of heavy lifting.

They help break up long paragraphs of dialogue that are jank to look at

They give you pauses for ~dramatic effect~

They prompt you to provide some other action, introspection, or scene descriptor with the tag. *don't forget that if you're continuing the sentence as if the tag wasn't there, not to capitalize the first word after the tag. Capitalize if the tag breaks up two complete sentences, not if it interrupts a single sentence.

It also looks better along the lefthand margin when you don’t start every paragraph with either the same character name, the same pronouns, or the same “ as it reads more natural and organic.

3. When the scene demands, get dynamic

General rule of thumb is that action scenes demand quick exchanges, short paragraphs, and very lean descriptors. Action scenes are where you put your juicy verbs to use and cut as many adverbs as you can. But regardless of if you’re in first person, second person, or third person limited, you can let the mood of the narrator bleed out into their narration.

Like, in horror, you can use a lot of onomatopoeia.

Drip Drip Drip

Or let the narration become jerky and unfocused and less strict in punctuation and maybe even a couple run-on sentences as your character struggles to think or catch their breath and is getting very overwhelmed.

You can toss out some grammar rules, too and get more poetic.

Warm breath tickles the back of her neck. It rattles, a quiet, soggy, rasp. She shivers. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. If she doesn’t look, it’s not there. Sweat beads at her temple. Her heart thunders in her chest. Ba-bump-ba-bump-ba-bump-ba- It moves on, leaving a void of cold behind. She uncurls her fists, fingers achy and palms stinging from her nails. It’s gone.

4. Remember to balance dialogue, monologue, introspection, action, and descriptors.

The amount of times I have been faced with giant blocks of dialogue with zero tags, zero emotions, just speech on a page like they’re notecards to be read on a stage is higher than I expected. Don’t forget that though you may know exactly how your dialogue sounds in your head, your readers don’t. They need dialogue tags to pick up on things like tone, specifically for sarcasm and sincerity, whether a character is joking or hurt or happy.

If you’ve written a block of text (usually exposition or backstory stuff) that’s longer than 50 words, figure out a way to trim it. No matter what, break it up into multiple sections and fill in those breaks with important narrative that reflects the narrator’s feelings on what they’re saying and whoever they’re speaking to’s reaction to the words being said. Otherwise it’s meaningless.

—

Hope this helps anyone struggling! Now get writing.

[ddejavvu]

mean logan notices her casually chewing gum while having sex & he sternly grabs the back of her neck and demands she spit it out onto his hand. Grumbling smthing abt choking (even though he totally doesn’t care & is so mean

😣😉)

anon this was CRAZY. this post is 18+, minors dni.

You hadn't thought about the piece of mint gum still being mashed between your teeth, the motion of chewing second nature at this point as the flavor is half-gone. Your rhythmic chewing becomes staccato and choppy as Logan makes short work of your desperate cunt, but a particularly loud smack of the gum in your mouth makes his eyes narrow, snapping to your face.

You're on his lap which gives him the perfect opportunity to clamp a hand around the back of your neck and bend your head down. His hips barely slow, still pumping with superhuman strength, but his hands are occupied now and no longer lift your hips. It means your cunt is being battered by his cock that barely unsheathes, your weight falling with his every time he lowers his hips. It's a squirmy sensation, one of pressure and tightness as you try lifting your own hips to fend off his rough treatment. You whine at the sudden jerk of your head as you're shoved downwards, nearly smacking your face into Logan's other hand that's now hovering beneath your chin.

"Spit it out." He drawls gruffly, palm open in waiting.

"What?"

"Your gum. What is this, a fuckin' baseball game? Spit that shit out when I'm fucking you."

You consider protesting, my gum! but decide against it, unable to offer anything more than a weak whimper as you push the gum out of your mouth with your tongue and let it fall into his waiting palm. It looks obscene there, not sultry just gross, but he discards it on a stray tissue on your bedside table.

"Do you go stupid the second you see me naked? You were gonna choke on that," Logan lectures you, tone unimpressed as he clamps his hands over your hips again, letting up on your now-sore neck.

"I wasn't gonna choke!" You whine uselessly, and Logan's brow raises in skepticism.

"Really?"

"Really. It's- it's just gum." You mumble feebly, "I'm not a baby. I won't choke on it."

He lifts your hips so that you're pulled briefly off of his cock, and you're somewhat surprised he hasn't risen to your bait and began bickering with you. He often has the last word, and you feel delightfully victorious.

Then he slams you back down onto his cock, pulling instead of letting gravity help you, and a gasp rips through your throat so viciously that you're sure you've choked on the mere emptiness of your throat.

"Really? You're not gonna choke, it's just gum." Logan snarls, a now-merciless pace set as he reminds you that the last word will never be yours, "I know you. I've watched you gag on my dick a thousand times over. I've watched you gasp for breath after two minutes. If I say you're gonna choke, baby, you're gonna choke."

[inseobts]

Can I request a fic where reader is in love with zoro but he’s Zoro and doesn’t notice for forever. Years maybe even. But then law comes into the picture and likes reader and she finally realizes maybe it’s time to give up on Zoro and go for someone who may love her back…only for Zoro to realize how he truly feels ? 🙃 ending can be either angst or happy for Zoro!

Almost Noticed

zoro x reader + law x reader

a/n: it's almost similar to the last one I did but it was fun... and since they're my two husbands I couldn't choose a winner and I let google choose for me T.T (gonna put the photo at the end lmao)

tags: pre and post time-skip, spoilers, slow burn, tension, love triangle

words count: 6.7k

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

You sit near the railing watching Zoro from across the deck.

He’s lying on his back under the mast, one arm slung behind his head, eyes closed, but you know he’s not asleep.

It’s been months, or maybe even longer, since you started looking too long when he trained shirtless in the sun. Since you started noticing the way his voice drops when he’s serious, the way his brows furrow when he’s annoyed. Since you realized your heart does stupid flips when he calls your name in that lazy, gravel-deep voice.

He never notices. Not the way you notice everything.

He doesn’t know that you make him an extra rice ball at lunch because he always wants seconds, even if Sanji starts complaining. He doesn’t know you patch up the seams of his bandanas when they start to fray. He doesn’t see the way you look at him like he’s something holy, somehow both untouchable and familiar.

And it’s fine, or at least you tell yourself it’s fine.

“Oi.”

You blink and turn. He’s standing right behind you now, towel over his shoulder, swords glinting under moonlight “You spacing out again?”

“I—no, just thinking.”

Zoro stares at you, then leans against the railing beside you like it’s nothing. Like being close doesn’t twist your insides into knots “Don’t think too hard. You’ll overheat.”

You laugh softly “Thanks for the advice, Mr. ‘All Brawn No Brain’.”

“Tch.” He doesn’t even pretend to be insulted “At least I don’t sit around staring at people.”

Your heart stops. Just for a second.

Did he notice?

Guess no because he’s already turned away, already yawning like the conversation’s over. Like your entire world isn’t spinning.

Weeks later you are all on Sabaody Archipelago when the island becomes hell, full of chaos. You expected tension. You didn’t expect the world to start cracking apart at the edges.

The ground shakes with every step Bartholomew Kuma takes. Everything’s falling apart. Again.

You’re standing with the crew, breathing hard, bruised, blood on your temple, and Zoro’s right beside you. The air tastes like ozone and smoke. Pain screams in every bone, but you hold your stance anyway.

Zoro’s stance is steady, swords drawn, chest rising and falling. He’s ready to fight, even when it’s hopeless. He always is.

“Get back” he mutters, low enough for just you to hear.

You grip your weapon tighter “Not a chance.”

His eyes flick to you, just for a second.

Not long enough.

“Kuma’s not human” Franky shouts from across the field “We can’t beat him!”

“We have to try!” Luffy yells back.

It happens fast… too fast.

One flash of light. One massive hand. And then Poof.

First it’s Sanji.

Then Chopper.

Then Franky.

(I don’t remember the exact order, bare with me if I forget to check before posting lmao)

Gone. Like smoke in the wind.

“No… NO!” you scream, running forward, but Zoro grabs your arm and pulls you back hard.

“Stay behind me” he growls.

You should say it now, before it’s too late.

“I love you” You swallow the words.

Then Kuma steps forward again.

“Room.”

You don’t hear it but you feel like a buzz in the air, a coldness at your back. And then, suddenly, you’re not behind Zoro anymore.

You’re inside a glowing sphere. The world around you slows, like someone turned the volume down on the chaos. You spin, breath caught in your lungs.

“Trafalgar Law, right?”

He stands a few paces away, hat casting a shadow over his gold-ringed eyes, hand lifted.

“What—What are you doing? What did you do?”

“Getting you out.”

Your heart slams in your chest “I can’t leave! I have to go back. Zoro’s still—”

“I saw him.” His voice is low. Calm “You know he’s the next one and you can’t do anything.”

“No,” you whisper. Your fists shake “He—he doesn’t even know—”

Law watches you carefully “But you do.”

You turn, trying to run back toward the others but Kuma’s hand is already over Zoro, light bursting around him like a nova.

And then he’s gone.

Just like that.

“NO!” You scream, stumbling forward, but Law grabs you and pulls you against him.

“Don’t waste it” he murmurs against your hair “You got lucky you weren’t far enough for me to reach you.”

“I didn’t want luck,” you breathe “I want them back.”

Later on you wake up to a low hum. Not waves. Not creaking wood. Something colder. Something deeper.

Your eyes snap open. The room is dim, lit only by a strip of soft light lining the metal walls. You’re not on the Thousand Sunny anymore.

“Where—?”

You try to sit up too fast, pain flaring in your ribs. Your voice is hoarse.

“Careful.”

You turn. Law is standing near the door, coat off, arms crossed over his chest. His tattoos catch the low light like ink on porcelain.

“You passed out,” he says “Shock, maybe. Or blood loss. Or both.”

You sit back slowly, memory returning in fragments.

Sabaody. Kuma. Zoro.

All of your crew… gone.

You close your eyes, chest rising with a shaky breath “You shouldn’t have pulled me out.”

Law says nothing.

“I would’ve rather—” You don’t finish the sentence.

He watches you for a long time. Then “I know.”

That’s it. No lecture. No pity.

He just says it like a fact. Like someone who understands what it means to lose everything in a single heartbeat.

The next few days pass in a blur.

The Polar Tang is too clean. Too quiet. The crew is polite but distant. You eat in silence. Sleep too much. You try not to think them, of Zoro, you try not to remember the way he stood in front of you before Kuma could reach you.

Try not to remember that he never even turned around to see if you’d followed, widening his eyes when he realised you disappeared like that.

Law keeps his distance. He doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t comfort you. But you catch him watching sometimes.

When you forget to eat, he sends food without a word.

When you sit in the med bay too long staring at nothing, he walks in, grabs supplies, and walks out again, without breaking the silence.

You wish you could hate him for pulling you out. For saving you when no one else made it.

But you don’t. You can’t.

Because in those rare moments when he looks at you, you feel like maybe he’s just as lost.

One night, you’re in the observation room, staring at the ocean through a round porthole. You don’t hear him come in.

“I keep seeing it,” you say softly, not turning around “Zoro… the way he disappeared. I didn’t even say anything.”

“You wouldn’t have had time” Law answers.

You let out a hollow laugh “I had years, actually.”

That shuts him up.

You finally look over your shoulder “You’re not going to tell me I’ll move on?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He pauses, then shrugs “Because I wouldn’t.”

The words hit harder than you expect. You swallow.

He steps closer, hands in his pockets, voice low “I didn’t save you for you, you know.”

Your breath catches “What does that mean?”

Law meets your eyes for half a second. Then he shakes his head.

“Forget it.”

He turns to leave.

You almost call out to him, ask him to stay, but you don’t.

Because Zoro never said what you needed to hear. And now Law won’t either.

Days pass. Maybe weeks. You don’t count them.

The crew leaves you alone. Law doesn’t.

Not in an obvious way, he never lingers too long, never asks too much. But he’s always there, hovering at the edges of your grief like someone who’s used to ghosts.

And Zoro is a ghost. Not dead. Not gone forever. But still gone.

You wonder if he thought of you before he disappeared. If he was scared.

You dig your nails into your palms and force your mind blank.

Law, standing across the room, doesn’t comment. But you know he notices.

Later, at night, you go sitting on the cold metal floor in the lower deck, knees tucked to your chest.

Law’s voice cuts through the silence.

“You keep sitting in dark corners like that, and someone’s gonna think you died.”

You huff a quiet laugh, not looking up “Maybe I did.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Then he says “That’s not how it works.”

You finally glance at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, unreadable as always.

“How does it work, then?” you ask “Losing people?”

Law exhales, slow “Like an open wound. You live with it.”

Your throat tightens.

“You ever lost someone?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

His jaw shifts slightly.

“Yes.”

The weight of it sits between you.

You don’t ask who.

He doesn’t ask why you’re asking.

The silence stretches, but this time, it doesn’t feel empty.

You don’t realize how long he stays there until you finally stand up, lightheaded, exhausted, and he just… turns and walks away.

Like he was only there to make sure you got back up at all.

Another week passes, maybe?

You start eating more. Sleeping less.

The crew stops treating you like a ghost. Bepo tells you stories. Shachi and Penguin try to drag you into their dumb arguments. And Law still keeps his distance.

But one night, when you wake up from another dream where they disappear right in front of you, you stumble into the hallway, breath shaky, and he’s already there. Like he knew.

He doesn’t touch you. Doesn’t say a word.

Just stands there, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp in the dim light.

And for the first time since Sabaody, you don’t feel completely alone.

It’s chaos. Worse than Sabaody.

The battlefield burns, the sky cracked open by fire and screams. Bodies fall. The ocean churns red.

You stand on the deck of the Polar Tang, numb, gripping the railing so hard your knuckles go white. You don’t blink. Don’t move. Because if you do, you might break apart completely.

“Luffy!”

He’s right there.

Not an echo. Not a dream. He’s alive, stumbling forward with Ace’s lifeless body still clutched against his chest, screaming so raw and broken it rips through you.

Your throat closes. You feel sick.

I should have been there.

You don’t realize you’re crying until a hand closes around your wrist.

“Go inside” Law says, voice quiet but firm.

You shake your head wildly “No! I have to—”

“You’ll only get in the way.”

The words cut deep, but you know he’s right.

This isn’t your fight anymore. It was never yours to begin with.

When it’s over, you sit beside Luffy in the Polar Tang’s infirmary. He’s unconscious, face pale, breath shallow.

Tears slip down your cheeks, silent and endless.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper “I’m so sorry.”

You don’t hear Law approach, but suddenly, his shadow stretches across the dim room. He doesn’t say anything, just watches.

After a moment, he kneels beside you.

“He’ll live” he says simply.

You press a hand over your mouth, nodding shakily.

Law stays kneeling there for a few seconds longer, like he almost wants to reach for you. But then he stands, and the moment is gone.

Two weeks later Luffy stands on the shore, fists clenched.

“I’m going to train” he says “For two years.”

You nod, already knowing.

Then he turns to you “You should train too.”

Your breath catches “With you?”

“No.” Luffy shakes his head pointing slightly and fast at Law “With him.”

Your stomach drops “Luffy—”

“You’re not strong enough yet...” he says, no hesitation, no softness “None of us were.”

You flinch.

Luffy doesn’t mean to hurt you, but he’s right. You weren’t strong enough. Not to stop Kuma. Not to fight in Marineford.

Not even to keep Zoro in your life.

You turn to Law, who watches you in that unreadable way of his.

“You want me to stay?” you ask.

He shrugs “Your captain does.”

“And you?”

Something flickers in his eyes, quick as lightning. But then it’s gone.

“We leave tomorrow.”

That’s all he says and you don’t argue.

Luffy waves from the shore one last time, grinning even though he’s still healing, even though everything’s shattered.

“Train hard!” he yells “Don’t die!”

You wave back. Smile. Fake it.

“See you in two years, Captain!” you say.

He disappears into the jungle with Rayleigh at his side.

And that’s it. Luffy’s gone.

The last thread connecting you to the Straw Hats...

You don’t make it far. Maybe ten steps onto the Polar Tang before your knees buckle.

You sink to the floor in the hallway, fists clenched, trying to breathe.

They’re all gone. And Luffy, your captain, your anchor, isn’t the one you have to follow now.

Your whole chest aches with the weight of them, and Zoro... who never even looked back at you in the same way you looked at him.

Your hands shake. You press them to your mouth, try to swallow the sob, but it bursts out anyway.

You don’t hear footsteps. But suddenly Law is there, crouched beside you like he’s been waiting.

“Let it out” he says, voice low, steady.

You cry harder.

Ugly, gasping sobs that have been locked in since Sabaody. You curl into yourself, and he doesn’t touch you, he just stays.

You don’t know how long it lasts. Minutes. Maybe more.

When your breathing finally evens out, you whisper “I didn’t want to go with you.”

“I know.”

“I wanted to stay with them.”

“I know” he says again. But it’s softer this time. Almost careful.

You look up at him, eyes swollen and wet “Why did you even save me?”

He doesn’t answer. Just stands and offers a hand.

“Come on. I’m training you. Start now.”

Day one, training begins and you’re sore within an hour.

Law doesn’t go easy on you, not out of cruelty, but because he doesn’t believe in easy.

He corrects your stance with a flick of his sword, shoves your balance when it’s off, tells you when your swings are weak. But he never mocks. Never smirks.

And when you collapse into the dirt, gasping for breath, he tosses you a canteen and says:

“You did better than yesterday.”

“…It’s the first day.”

He shrugs “I’m setting the bar low.”

It almost makes you laugh.

That night, you stare at the ceiling of your bunk, arms aching, mind fogged with exhaustion.

And you realize Law could’ve left you behind. Could’ve dropped you off somewhere from the beginning. But he didn’t.

He’s not kind. But he’s constant. Present.

You fall asleep thinking of Zoro.

But just before your dreams take you, you actually see Law’s eyes, calm and steady, and feel just a little less alone.

Month one, and Law doesn’t hold back.

He pushes you until your muscles scream, until you’re too exhausted to think. Maybe that’s the point, maybe he knows you’d drown in your own thoughts if he let you rest too long.

At night, you collapse into your bunk, body bruised, mind blank.

And sometimes, when the nightmares come, he’s already awake. He never says anything. Never asks. But if you step outside to breathe, he’s always leaning somewhere out there, pretending it’s a coincidence.

Month three, and training drill goes wrong. Your foot slips, and you hit the ground har, too hard. You try to get up, but your vision sways.

Law is there in an instant as he kneels beside you, eyes sharp with something you almost don’t recognize. Worry.

“You hit your head,” he mutters, scanning you “Idiot.”

You blink up at him, dazed “You care.”

His hands still for half a second.

Then he scoffs, expression smoothing into something unreadable “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But when he helps you stand, his grip is steady. Careful.

Month eight, Law’s sword crashes against yours, and your blood thrums with the fight, and when you smirk at him, he smirks back.

Not mocking.

Not cold.

Just something warm.

The moment is gone too fast. But that night, lying in bed, you realize you stopped thinking about him that much.

Year one, and you have your first real battle of your time with the Heart Pirates. A raid gone wrong.

You’re cornered, outnumbered, bleeding, one knee on the ground.

And then shink. A blade flashes.

When you look up, Law is standing over you, sword drawn, eyes dark with something dangerous.

You breathe hard, staring up at him “You...”

“Idiot.” His voice is sharp, but his hands, when he helps you up, are steady “You were reckless.”

“You saved me again.”

“Tch. I told you before.” he mutters, gripping your arm “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But that night, when you pass out from exhaustion, you swear you feel someone pull a blanket over you.

It’s weird. You don’t remember when it started, when the metal walls of the submarine stopped feeling cold.

You laugh easier these days. Mostly because of the crew.

Bepo makes dumb jokes that hit way too hard when you’re tired. Penguin and Shachi bicker like toddlers. You’ve been caught in the middle more than once.

“You’re taking my side, right?” Shachi demands.

“She likes me more” Penguin argues.

You just smirk “Bepo’s the only one with a brain. I’m staying on his side.”

They groan in betrayal. Bepo beams.

You catch Law watching from the upper deck, arms crossed, leaning against the railing like he’s not paying attention, but you know he is. He watches a lot now. He listens when you’re laughing, eyes sharp, expression unreadable. Not because he’s annoyed, but because he knows the clock’s ticking.

Soon, you’ll leave.

He doesn’t say it. He never would.

But you see it in the way he looks at you like he’s memorizing it all.

And what makes it worse is that with time you’ve gotten even bolder. You tease him now, just to see if you can crack that calm exterior.

“Law,” you lean across the table with your chin in your palm, “have I finally impressed you yet?”

He doesn’t even glance up from the reports “No.”

You grin “Liar.”

He looks at you then. Just briefly. But there’s something dangerous in his eyes. Warm and annoyed.

“You’re becoming a nuisance” he says.

“And yet,” you whisper with mock drama, “you’ve never kicked me off your ship.”

His jaw ticks. You love it.

You turn away smiling, leaving him there, stoic and silent, pretending you didn’t just get under his skin again.

He watches you walk off, fingers tapping once against the table, tension in his shoulders that has nothing to do with the reports.

Year two, you still think about Zoro, but your heart is quieter now.

You don’t think of him every night like before.

And that realization actually terrifies you. Because you’ve spent years thinking of Zoro.

And somehow, without meaning to, without wanting to, you started looking at someone else.

Two years vanish in the wind.

Your boots hit Sabaody’s soil.

Same place. Same light in the sky. But nothing feels the same, not the way you stand taller, breathe steadier, walk with quiet strength instead of wide-eyed hope.

The crew is here.

Your crew.

Luffy’s laugh is the same. Usopp’s dramatic wailing makes you snort. Nami nearly tackles you in a hug.

Sanji cries actual blood when he sees you. Chopper does his little spin.

You smile so much your face hurts. But your heart stays still.

Because he’s not here.

Not yet.

You hear the footsteps behind you first. Steady. Heavy. Familiar.

You turn and there he is.

Zoro.

He’s taller. Broader. Scars you don’t recognize. A presence so solid it makes the air shift.

His gaze snaps to yours, and it holds. No blink. No hesitation.

Your breath catches.

“Hey” you whisper.

It’s barely a word. Barely a sound.

He’s staring like he hasn’t seen anyone else since the day you disappeared.

“…You’re alive” he says. Voice low.

You nod “So are you.”

A beat.

He steps forward, and for a second you think he’s going to touch you. Say something. Anything. But he just stops a foot away.

“…You look stronger.” he says.

You blink, a laugh slipping out that’s part broken, part breathless “Took me long enough.”

He doesn’t smile. Doesn’t look away. Just says “I looked for you.”

Your heart slams.

“What?”

“When we got back.” He says it like it’s nothing “I looked. Didn’t stop for months. Thought you were dead.”

You try to swallow, but your throat’s tight “I—I was with Law.”

His jaw tenses “Yeah. I heard.”

Silence stretches between you.

He looks the same, but not really. He feels different. Like the sharp edges are still there, but dulled by time. Regret.

And you’re not sure what you feel, because for these two years, Zoro haunted you. And now he’s here, real and solid and late.

He shifts closer again, eyes flicking over your face “You okay?”

You nod, barely “You?”

“Better now.” he says, almost too low to hear.

You don’t answer. You can’t.

Because behind you, someone calls your name.

You turn, just enough to see Law, standing off to the side, watching. Zoro’s gaze follows yours.

And the moment breaks.

Law finds you leaning over a crate on the dock, hands smudged with oil from helping Franky. The sun’s setting, orange light stretching long across the sea.

“You leaving already?” you ask, tossing him a crooked grin.

He nods “I did my job and you're here now. My crew’s waiting.”

You straighten up. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like just a goodbye.

“Oh.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes “You’re back where you belong.”

You hate how your throat tightens “Law...”

“I don’t regret it” he cuts in, voice low “Any of it. Saving you. Training you. Keeping you.”

You stare at him, heart thudding.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean” he says, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"You usually don't talk much at all."

“Then take this as a rare moment of honesty.”

You laugh a little, shaky “Okay…”

He steps closer, close enough that your shoulders nearly touch “You were never just someone I saved.”

The world tilts. You don’t breathe.

“You're back with them now…” he hesitates, swallows, “With him... as you always wanted.”

That’s when it hits you.

The shift in your chest. The ache you’ve been ignoring. The weight behind every time you teased him. Every time he didn’t laugh, but stayed.

You look up at him and it’s all over your face.

Law sees it.

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because it’s too late.

So you just nod, eyes shining.

“Goodbye, Law.”

He looks at you one last time, as if memorizing it. Then he turns and leaves.

Zoro watches from the shadows. He doesn’t mean to. But he sees it all.

The way you stand still long after Law disappears from sight.

The way your shoulders tremble, just once.

And, worst of all, the look you gave him. That soft, broken, aching look.

Zoro’s chest goes tight, because he knows that look. You used to give it to him, back when he was too blind to see it.

Now, he sees it clear as day, but it’s not for him anymore.

Later that night, he tries anyway.

He finds you on the deck, alone, arms wrapped around yourself.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks.

You turn slowly. Smile tiredly “Sure.”

He steps closer. Hesitates. Then “I meant what I said. I missed you. I still do.”

You blink, surprised “Zoro...”

“I didn’t know how to say it back then. But I do now.”

You look at him, really look, and something in your face flickers.

Soft but sad.

“I waited a long time” you whisper.

“I know.”

“And now…” you trail off “Now, I don’t know what I feel.”

He nods, jaw tight “But I do.”

You close your eyes “I’m sorry.”

And that’s it. He’s too late.

Zoro isn’t good with words, but he can do actions. So he sticks close.

He stands by you during battles. Helps you sharpen your blade even when you insist you can do it yourself. He throws his jacket at you during a cold night on deck without saying a word.

You stop flinching when he shows up.

You stop looking away so quickly.

That’s progress, right?

One night, he brings you food. He sets it beside you with a quiet, “Eat. You skipped dinner.”

You glance up “Didn’t think you noticed.”

“I notice a lot more now.”

Your eyes meet his. There’s warmth there, brief, flickering. And Zoro clings to it.

He doesn’t say the words again. Not yet. He knows now that words have weight. That the next time he confesses, it can’t be casual. It can’t be a maybe.

So he waits.

Watches.

Hopes.

You’re softer with him. You laugh sometimes. You don’t run anymore. But you also don’t reach for him. Not the way you used to.

Weeks pass. Battles come and go. And with every scar, every shared glance, every late-night conversation, Zoro starts to think.

Maybe this time he’ll be enough.

Maybe you’re still finding your way back.

Then Punk Hazard happens. The fog. The cold. The chaos.

And amid all that... “Room.”

Zoro turns fast. His hand tightens around his sword.

Law.

He’s standing like he never left. Calm. Collected. Surgeon’s eyes scanning the area.

And then he sees you.

You freeze. You don’t say anything, but you smile.

Not the polite kind. Not the cautious one you give strangers.

It’s soft. Familiar. Full.

Zoro watches your whole face change, lit from within in a way he hasn’t seen in years.

And that’s when it hits him.

You really do look at Law the way you used to look at him.

He turns away before you can see the hurt break through his face.

For the first time since he started trying, Zoro feels something crack.

He’s not done yet. But for the first time, he wonders if trying is enough.

The alliance happens fast. Faster than anyone expects. But not without meaning.

Luffy grins wide as ever, standing on the snowy remains of the Punk Hazard wreckage, hand outstretched “Let’s do it!”

Law hesitates for half a second, like he always does. Like he’s weighing every possible outcome.

But then his eyes flick past Luffy, just for a moment. To you.

Standing there, watching, quiet.

He takes the hand.

The crew erupts behind you, half celebrating, half groaning.

“An alliance with him? Really?!” Usopp yells.

“Great,” Nami mutters “Another brooding one.”

Sanji lights a cigarette, eyes narrowing at Law “As long as he keeps his hands off certain people, I guess it’s fine.”

You roll your eyes “Sanji!”

Law blinks, then tilts his head “Was that directed at me?”

Sanji blows out smoke “You did spend two years alone with her, didn’t you?”

You choke. Zoro tenses.

And Law... oh God, he blushes.

It’s the faintest thing. Barely there. Just a brush of pink at his cheekbones.

But everyone sees it.

Robin smiles knowingly. Franky lets out a long “oooooohhh!” Chopper gasps like he’s watching a soap opera.

You cover your face with both hands “Oh my god.”

Law clears his throat and looks away “This is an alliance. Nothing more.”

Sanji grins like a wolf “Didn’t say it wasn’t anything else.”

Luffy just shrugs “Trafalgar’s cool. He helped when I couldn’t.”

That makes everyone pause, because that matters.

Luffy doesn’t say things like that often.

He looks at you next, eyes clear and serious for once “He kept you alive. And that means something to me.”

Your chest tightens.

Law doesn’t respond, but his shoulders shift, barely. The way they do when he’s holding something in.

Zoro doesn’t say anything either. But he hears everything. He sees everything. And it burns.

You’re all in the same ship now, as Law temporarily sail with you all.

It’s chaos. Tension thick in the air. But it’s not the alliance that’s unstable.

It’s Zoro and Law.

It starts small.

During a strategy meeting, you lean over Law’s shoulder to point at the map.

“Right here. If we flank from the east—”

Zoro cuts in from behind you “That’s a crap angle. It exposes our backs.”

Law doesn’t even look up “Not if we use your crew as decoys.”

Zoro’s eye twitches “You offering to lead that charge, or just hoping we’ll take the hit for you?”

“Don’t project your martyr complex on me, Roronoa.”

You sigh, stepping between them before things can escalate “Can we not have a dick-measuring contest over a map?”

Law raises a brow “Who said anything about that?”

Zoro smirks “Pretty sure I’m winning anyway.”

“Zoro!”

He glances at you. Shrugs “Just saying.”

Law’s lips twitch, somewhere between annoyance and something else “Very mature.”

Later that day, you’re sparring on deck, Zoro by your side, running drills. He’s focused, strict, pushing you hard, harder than usual.

“You’re dropping your left,” he grunts “Again.”

“I’m tired...”

“You’ll be dead if you fight like that.”

You glare at him, wiping sweat from your brow “God, you’re such an ass sometimes.”

“Only when you’re being lazy.”

“You wanna fight?”

He smirks “Thought we were.”

Before you can respond...

“Maybe she needs a better teacher.”

You both turn.

Law stands a few feet away, arms crossed, tone dry.

Zoro straightens, blade resting on his shoulder “You volunteering?”

Law shrugs “At least I know how to critique without barking like a feral animal.”

Zoro steps forward, slow, deliberate “She’s strong because I push her. I’ve been training with her since before you knew her name.”

Law’s gaze doesn’t waver “And yet, she still survived two years without you.”

You can feel the tension crackle in the air, and you’re right in the middle.

“Enough!” you snap, stepping between them “I’m not a prize. You don’t get to fight over me like I’m some damn bounty.”

Neither of them speaks. But they don’t look away from each other either.

Zoro’s jaw is tight.

Law’s hands curl just slightly at his sides.

“Get your shit together. Both of you.”

And then you walk off. Neither of them follows, but both of them want to.

You avoid them both for a while.

Let them stay in their own awkward silences and heavy stares.

Zoro finds you first.

“You’re pissed.”

You don’t look at him “You think?”

He doesn’t back off. He never does.

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel like you’re caught in the middle.”

“You weren’t?” you laugh bitterly “Because it really feels like it, Zoro.”

His voice lowers “I’m trying to tell you I still—”

“Now you want to say something?” you cut in “After years of pretending I didn’t exist? After I stopped looking at you like you were my whole world?”

Zoro flinches. Just a little.

You don’t stop “You only noticed me after someone else did. That’s not love, Zoro. That’s jealousy.”

“It’s not,” he says, sharp now “You think I didn’t feel it back then? I did. I just… didn’t know what to do with it. I thought we had time.”

You stare at him “We didn’t.”

Silence.

And then “Do you love him?”

The question lands like a weight.

You blink. Breathe. Whisper “I don’t know.”

Zoro doesn’t move. But everything in him tenses.

You keep going, quieter now “I loved you for so long, Zoro. I would’ve followed you anywhere.”

He’s looking at the ground now “I know.”

“And you didn’t even have to do anything. You just had to see me.”

“I see you now.”

You shake your head “Maybe too late.”

That night, Law comes to you. Quiet as ever.

You’re sitting at the railing, staring at the sea like it has answers. He stops beside you and sits.

“I shouldn’t have fought with him.”

You glance at him “Didn’t exactly help.”

He nods, once “I know.”

There’s silence for a beat. Then “I didn’t want to come back. I thought maybe it would be easier for you if I stayed gone.”

“That’s not what I wanted.”

He turns his head to look at you “I know. But I also know how you looked at him.”

You laugh softly, bitter “I used to. Not sure I even remember how it felt anymore.”

Law watches you “Do you remember it when you look at me now?”

You swallow “I don’t know.”

It’s the truth. And it hurts.

“I think I wanted to.”

His eyes soften “That’s not the same thing.”

You nod “I know.”

Two men.

One you loved for years.

One who helped you find yourself again.

And now, you have to choose.

Zoro doesn’t approach you after that conversation.

For days, he stays distant. His eyes heavy with everything unsaid, his silence louder than any words could be.

It’s not easy for him. But somehow, it’s easier for you.

You’re not holding on anymore. Not to him. Not to the past.

The nights spent on deck, watching the stars with Law, become moments of clarity for you. He’s the calm in your storm. The one who doesn’t try to change you, doesn’t try to fix you.

He simply… is.

You go sit beside him, your shoulder grazing his. Your heart is full of things you can’t put into words, things you don’t need to say because he knows.

And for once, you’re not scared of the future.

“I’m sorry” you murmur, breaking the silence.

He looks at you. His expression unreadable, but there’s understanding in his eyes “For what?”

“For everything,” you say, a little shakier than you expected “For making this so… messy. For making it hurt.”

His lips twitch, just a little. A subtle hint of a smile “It wasn’t just you.”

You look down at your hands, fingers fidgeting “I don’t know when it happened. When I stopped thinking about him like that. But I guess… I was always looking for something different from that. Someone who would…”

“See you?” Law finishes softly.

You nod “Yeah.”

“I see you.” His voice is steady, as it always is.

The words wrap around you like a blanket, and you feel something inside you uncoil, like it’s been waiting for this moment. For someone to just see you. All of you. No conditions. No hesitations.

“I’m sorry” you repeat, but this time, it’s softer. Not a confession, but a release. A letting go.

He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leans closer. You’re not sure if you should pull away. You don’t. You can’t.

When his lips meet yours, it’s gentle. You kiss him, and it feels like coming home.

The next morning, Zoro is gone. Not physically, he’s still there. But he’s… gone.

He doesn’t look at you the way he used to. He doesn’t demand your attention. He doesn’t hold your gaze for too long, hoping you’ll see something in him that you used to.

And you don’t feel the ache in your chest anymore.

It’s the quietest goodbye you could’ve hoped for.

You stand beside Law as the waves crash against the ship, the wind tugging at your hair. It feels like a beginning. A new beginning.

“I’ve got your back” Law says quietly, his voice the same steady promise.

You smile, looking out toward the horizon “I know.”

You pause for a moment, then turn to him with a teasing grin “But, you know…”

He raises an eyebrow “What?”

“If we’re going to be all teamwork and allies like this…” You give him a playful glance, “You have to stop looking so serious all the time. It’s like you’re trying to compete with Zoro again but for the ‘most brooding’ title this time.”

He actually blinks at you. And then… he smirks “Is that so? I didn’t realize I had competition.”

“Mmhm.” You tilt your head, as if seriously contemplating the challenge “But I’ll let you have it. For now.”

He chuckles softly “I’ll try not to disappoint, then.”

You nudge him with your shoulder, laughter bubbling up between you “You’re lucky you’re cute when you do it.”

His smirk widens "You have a type."

You gasp at his honesty, and you push him away just for him to push you back in his arms. You laugh and he smiles, you'd pay to stay in this moment forever, because joking, laughing with him, loving him... it feels even better than you could ever imagine.

Alternative Ending

The days after your conversation with Zoro are tense. He stays distant at first, too, as if unsure how to act after everything. But the quiet between you both doesn’t last long.

One evening, you find yourself standing at the edge of the ship, staring at the vast sea, the weight of your heart pulling you down.

It’s late. The only sound is the gentle rush of the waves.

You can feel him before you hear him.

“Y/N.”

You turn and see Zoro stands a few feet away, his silhouette dark against the moonlit sky. His expression is unreadable, but his voice cracks slightly.

“I’ve been an idiot.”

You blink, surprised at the words.

He steps forward, hesitating, then adds, “I should’ve told you. A long time ago. I...” He stops himself, runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated “I wasn’t ready. And I thought… I thought you’d wait for me. But I was wrong.”

You stare at him, heart beating faster with every word.

“I don’t know how to say this, but...” He takes a breath, looking you directly in the eyes now “I’ve been in love with you since the beginning. Since the first time I saw you, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. But I didn’t know how to show it. And when you started looking at someone else…” He clenches his fist “It killed me. I know I didn’t deserve you, but I couldn’t just... let you go.”

You swallow hard. He sounds so vulnerable now, in a way you’ve never heard before. It’s the side of him that never showed, always hidden behind his gruff exterior.

“Zoro…” you say softly, taking a step toward him.

“I know you might think it’s too late.” He looks down, the weight of his regret pressing him down “But I’ll keep fighting for you. If you’ll give me the chance.”

Your heart flutters, a mixture of relief and a longing you haven’t felt in so long. You step forward until you’re right in front of him, your breath mingling in the quiet air.

“I...” you hesitate for a second “I thought I was over you. That I had to let go.”

His hand twitches at his side, wanting to reach out but unsure “I know. And I don’t deserve you anymore.”

“But you’re here now.”

His eyes flicker with hope “I’m here now.”

Without a word, you step closer, closing the small gap between you. And you kiss him.

It’s slow at first. Tentative, unsure, like the beginning of something new. And for a moment, the entire world disappears. There’s no tension, no confusion, just you and him.

When you pull away, he’s staring at you, eyes wide, disbelief and joy mixing in his expression.

“Zoro, I…” You can barely catch your breath “I choose you. I choose us.”

He blinks, then grins, a rare, honest smile you’ve only seen glimpses of. He pulls you closer, this time with certainty.

“I’m not letting go this time, Y/N. I promise.”

The next morning, you wake up to the sound of Zoro sharpening his swords on the deck. You sit up slowly, stretching your arms, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He notices you and pauses, wiping his sweat from his forehead.

“You’re up early” he grunts, clearly still adjusting to this softer side of him.

You nod “Couldn’t sleep. Had too much on my mind.”

“Like what?” He smirks, teasing now.

You chuckle and roll your eyes “Like how stubborn you are sometimes.”

He raises an eyebrow “Me? Stubborn? You must be confusing me with someone else.”

You walk over to him, standing beside him for a moment before you take a deep breath and add, “I’ve always been in love with you, Zoro. But I needed you to see me.”

He grins, his usual cocky demeanor returning “I see you now.”

“You better!” you reply with a playful smirk, your heart finally light.

And for the first time in a long while, it feels like the beginning of something that could last.

- THE END, for real now -

[acid-ixx]

brutus: out for blood (villain au concept)

ft. neglectful yandere! bruce wayne x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: did anybody ask for this? no! did i decide to write this anyways? abso -fucking-lutely. is this a rantfic? mayybee. anyways, this is not my best piece nor will anything i write be my best piece but i just love destroying my happiness with angst and altho writing a very anxiety ridden mc is fun, i also love to dabble in sadomasochistic traits for a main character. like i said, i am not proud of this but i figured i should post something. erm... leave comments bec i love reading whatever stuff u guys have in store hehe.

you've tasted blood on your tongue far longer than you've felt the loving touch of a family.

it's metallic. it's salty. it twists every vein in your gut.

it tastes of broken metal pipes in playgrounds, destructive tantrums and broken dreams, of skipped classes and detention rooms, of ripped test papers and missed diplomas. it reminds you of your bitter past every single time; one you swore you've buried six feet deep into the ground. a burning memory with nothing more than heartaches and heartbreaks.

you taste blood whenever they reject your advances for even a single moment of bonding time. you feel it pumping slowly, steadily, painfully whenever you stumble upon a room, only to see them, smiles and all, huddled together in a group with junk food in their hands and a movie playing in that stupid flat screen tv. you know it's the only thing accompanying you whenever he misses another event in your school. it becomes the only friend you have whenever you're alone, inside your too-small room, with shatters glass scattered around and bruised knuckles.

blood, for most, is vile, utterly repulsive. it reeks in every corner of a room, its scent is overpowering, it stains, it's hard to clean. it imprints. and it will always remind you it's there, in the depths of your body, curdling and boiling and ready to burst out of the seems every time you rip at your skin with a razor sharp blade. blood has always been your only friend, like a scar that will never fade away.

yet you embrace crimson like it was the color of your soul, and accept how it's the only color you allow in your grim life. black has never provided you solace, but red allowed for a mantra of emotions to trail into your very being.

blood. it's more homely than you let it out to be.

and you're far more familiar with it than anything else. you cradle it like an unwanted child, you kiss its wounds, allow it to fester and grow into an abhorrent disease that crawls like a lump in your throat that you could never get rid of.

in moments of solace, of quaint prayers and hours of kneeling into the floor— it is the thing that slides on cold, hard tiles. it is the warmth, the numbness, the thing that seeps out of your bruised knees, your scratched neck and your thighs with fingernails buried deep into flesh.

you've come to love blood, cherish it even.

especially if it's your own.

especially if it came from the punch of none other than your father.

left, right, left, right.

his punches were cruel and his kicks can easily crush bones into powder. he demands answers with every strike he delivers, he exudes an energy far more adrenaline based than yours. batman is methodical in the way he moves, the way he acts, and you're not; you're impulsive, you had no plans to counter the towering man— no counter for the brutal hits he lay upon you. you let him, you open every doorway world to beat your body black and blue, with red painting the canvas as a finishing touch.

he's stronger than you, and every time he bashes your head into the wall, the urge to spit into his face, to piss him off, to laugh at him and his Idiocracy; it all becomes stronger.

yet all you do was allow him multiple openings, denying yourself the pleasure of attempting to even take your abandoned gun at the corner and shoot at his cranium— you want him to suffer, even if it costs you your mobility by the near future, fuck it.

up, down, to the side, then an uppercut to your jaw and you're nearly depleted of anymore moves to counter. you want to seem like you've given up; but you want him pissed off, enough to punch you 'til blood seeps into the fibers of your mask. until your face starts bruising, until your nose breaks, until he finally rips your mask off and sees your face.

and he'll come to regret.

you shift to the side, and ignore the sting of your throat, the lull of your head and the soreness of your entire body.

because if you hadn't dodged, then your head would've left an imprint on the walls. you would've preferred that now, rather than the disgusting feeling of sentimentality that creeps into your heart at the implication that his blows were slowly, but surely, weakening.

he's holding back, you hold back a sneer.

as if he actually cares about you.

maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. you know he cares far more deeply for his enemies than he does you, and you hate how glad you are at the pride that finally, just finally are you being acknowledged. at the opposite end of his side, as enemies. but for once you can feel the care he offers others, most of which were nonexistent back when you were just some... nobody.

batman never kills; but he can hurt, he can injure, and he can destroy. and right now, you feel all the air leaving your body as the cloaked vigilante delivers the last punch to your ribcage.

you fall, on your hands and knees, a loud thump resounding through the empty abandoned building. all you hear are your crackling joints, and heavy breathing. heavy, like your eyelids, about to fall, about to shut until black encompasses your vision. if not for the remaining adrenaline coursing through your veins, you would've fainted— but you won't, you wouldn't, not until you see him, see his face.

the thumping in your heart beats louder, and your hands. god, they feel like jelly, it's burning, it's one step closer on collapsing under gravelly concrete and piercing skin into rocks. yet you're forbidden any time for grace, not when he lightly shoves you out of your position, and not when you fall to your sides, hands paralyzed, tears prickling against your cheeks at the pain that burns throughout your body.

"you don't deserve peace after shooting that family in front of that child, you know it."

his voice, domineering, absolutely fucking vibrating with a tremor of sheer anger. he directs his words at you, without empathy, without mercy. he wants you to learn to never mess with him in the streets of gotham. but you'll never... not until he notices you. fuck, you just want him to notice you. and now, he is, with utter vexation that causes a lump in your throat to form.

shit, you've never felt so happy.

it's when his tussled form — heavy, pitch-black boots slathered with crimson liquid — enters your sight that you cough, violently, out of breath, and you can feel it one second, then taste it in your tongue the next.

blood.

you grin, and slowly, ever-so eminently, did you spiral into a cackle. your throat gurgles crimson liquid, and yet it only builds into a cacophony of a broken record. you move your head, look through your nearly shredded domino mask, with so little strength to accompany you, to look at the man above you, eyes glinting with a glow never so alive until now.

you're genuinely so fucking happy.

batman, he who strikes fear into the hearts of gotham villains and civilians alike. he who protects the city at night. he whose name is said with wavering uncertainty— he's looking at you, only you.

'bruce wayne: my dad— is finally looking at me.'

and you! you're laughing, the sounds that emanate from your throat are so scratchy, so utterly decimated that it sounds like vultures feeding through a dead corpse; but you don't let your chuckles die down, because you're so, so happy.

he looks at you, with contempt, with disgust, you don't know; but you're still so overjoyed.

"y-yeah... it's me, i did it. are you proud of me...?" you ask as you look up, through the tears that flow out your eyes, through the grin that couldn't die down. he looks at you like you're insane, and you know he's confused, shifting uncomfortably as he gives someone a status update through the comms, his eyes never leaving your pathetic form—

you look at him like he means the world all throughout.

"call for red robin, i have one of the culprits," he orders through the intangible device, eyes squinting as he takes you in— you whose chuckles slowly calmed down, as your breathing finally becomes heavier, as blood, yours, seem to seep into clumsily made apparel. you, who bruce realized seem too oddly familiar, too small, too childish, whose moment of spiraling insanity is too damn innocent to ignore.

you're not like the typical rogue he encounters, no. and right before you finally allow sleep to overcome you, you muster the last of your energy, to stare back at him with shining eyes, expectant, and like a child's, you ask with the meekest voice.

"hey... dad, i have a surprise." scratchy, absolutely broken, yet spilling with joy, with... your last word right before you continue, bruce's heart thumps ever the slightest faster.

"take my mask off, please?"

crimson began to overtake your entire body, and bruce should've never complied with your... request, but as he kneels and finally gets a grasp of what you truly look like, he notices the frailness, the vulnerability, as if you were never built for... combat. with just how quickly you succumb to the depths of rest, with how oblivious you are to the fact that if it were anyone else, they would've killed you.

you're not properly trained, you fight out of impulse, and he knows it with just how swift you gave up midfight.

when he pulls the domino mask (which seems oddly inspired by the shape of... his vigilante partners, the robins...) off your face, did his heart finally hastened its pace, loud thumping crawling its way to his ears, his eyes registering your face: its form, its shape, your eyes, your nose—

all similar to his, all an amalgamation of your mother's, too.

no... wait, no.

it's not...

it's not his... child?

you?

your eyes, flickering one last time stared at him, softly, like that of a child who looks at their father with pride like nothing else. your hand, it shakes, it shivers, as your fingers find its way creeping to his hand, holding your mask. fingers so dainty, now pulverized bones lay atop his shivering hand, tenderly, as if trying to comfort the very same man who has nearly killed you.

batman— no, bruce looks at you. at what he's done, and only now did he realize his greatest mistake. a child, his child, one whose innocence retained through heinous acts, now a villain, whose actions were all a testimony to merely wanting their father's attention.

he failed you, his child. he failed to protect you, who he has never held up close until now— as your body is hastily taken into his arms. so small, so easily wrapped around his body, so unbefitting of committing criminal activity. now bloodied and laid into barren ground by their very own father.

bruce wayne never felt this much terror, for nearly killing his child.

this, this day marks his sin.

and you? dearest you feel like today is your greatest day.

crimson, nearly every part of you is stained with that putrid color.

yet blood has always been your best friend, no? and right now as you bleed into the arms of your father, you find yourself grateful that it is the last thing you see before a black cloak wraps around you, before black fills your entire line of sight.

short rant ahead: another author's note??? wow. yeah this was such a hard drabble to write. plsplspls leave a comment or some sort of input. anything will do. ive been so demotivated to write lately and i feel like anything i write is just, so bad 😭 like is my pacing good? are the emotions out of place? am i even doing this right ?? i don't know, and i feel like every time i post something i always put up expectations on myself that I should've done better so yeahh. is this attention seeking behavior? probably. but i don't get how people have come to like the stuff i write when i hate whatever i write hence why im in a constant cycle of hiatuses and short breaks. and really, it's just so hard to come into terms with things and i need input lest i accidentally get into a year or two of hiatus, lmaoo.

[sylvianritual]

A message from Dina:

Hello to those who carry us in their hearts and their humanitarian actions. I know that you have felt bored towards us, but we are also dying every second from the oppression and woes of the merciless war. The war has lasted for almost a year and a half. Imagine, as a human being, living under all this pressure and suffering, food, drink, displacement, and fear, and you do not have anything in your hands. Please, I am a mother with two children. I am not important. What is important is my children. You are needed. You can help me with anything. Please, I speak to you with your conscience and humanity. Everything has become more expensive than ever before, and we can barely get it because of the severe siege on us. My children have lost a lot of weight due to the lack of nutrition, and on top of all this, they have been deprived of their childhood. We no longer have a life. We could die at any time. At least your help can enable them to do what they need and to buy them what they want before anything bad happens. Do not be lenient. I know that you are fed up and bored, but at least you can help me and be a support to me and my children.

Bombs are still falling on Gaza, and the situation only worsens. Dina and her children have been living in these conditions for over a year. She deserves better, her children deserve better. Please help my friend, I don't want to see her family continue to suffer. It breaks my heart hearing the fear and danger they live in every day, and I only hear a fraction of what is their reality.

Please do your part. Don't just scroll past this post. You can make a difference for Dina and her family.