#for someone who is unable to play them

[shitpostingkats]

Wait hangon I'm having a thought.

Nahyuta learning Apollo became a defense attorney and immediately reading up on every case he's ever taken. Nahyuta learning about all the events of the past two games. Nahyuta on some international flight, trying to absorb everything that's happened in his little brother's life and realizing the crushing extent of everything he's missed.

[smartzelda]

Sorry guys I gotta speak my truth on this one

I'm not kidding when I say that I think that blaming shit media literacy from fans on shipping/shippers avoids the actual root of the problem to throw people you can easily throw under the bus (simply because it's not unpopular to consider people who post about ships or ship characters in media as having lesser or derivative tastes by default)

And here's why.

I think when you blame people who are "shippers" or "consume media through shipping lenses", the true root of it all is a mindset problem.

In actually, putting on shipping lenses can be helpful when trying to analyze a piece of media. When analyzing media you're supposed to approach it through a number of mindsets and put on different lenses (both to deepen your personal understanding of the media, and to pick it apart and see what you can find there (whether intentional or not on the author's part)), and different ships can be some of those lenses

When it comes to ships between main characters (for those who are genuinely willing to see what the narrative is showing with their relationship and what it's doing), there are times when analyzing it from a shipping lens may be helpful. As someone from KH fandom, I have seen people come to deeper understandings and pick canon apart in the process of analyzing a relationship that is genuinely integral to the story (platonic or not). I've also seen people get into rarepairs of characters who barely interact or who just suffer little screen time, and I've seen them come to better understandings of those side characters and how they potentially fit into the world of the media simply because people are now focusing on these characters and how they fit into the narrative.

Frankly, I resent the idea that the only way to truly objectively analyze a piece of media is by turning off the part of your brain that gets excited over relationships and individual characters. Don't get me wrong, that is a way to approach a piece of media and a valid one at that, but the truth is that we cannot be free of bias.

For instance, I was watching House MD with my parents circa last year. At some point I started heavily tuning into what was going on with House and Wilson's relationship. My parents, on the other hand, were largely watching casually. They're not thinking of character relationships or getting heavily invested in most characters, they're watching because they like watching. One of them in particular did try to analyze things that were happening in the show as they happened. However, when it came to the scene late in the series where House threw out Dominika's letter approving her American citizenship, my parents could understand that he was doing that because he didn't want her to leave, but not much beyond that. I ended up explaining to them that House's fake marriage for Dominika was an explicit parallel to when Wilson was living with House in the early seasons. Both situations started with House being none too happy about it but ultimately letting them stay, spending a considerable amount of effort getting them to leave/getting this situation to be finally over so he didn't have to deal with it anymore, and then by the time a piece of news comes through that would mean the person in question actually leaves, House hides this news as long as he can. Because he doesn't actually want them to leave and has grown attached. And by doing this he became a self fulfilling prophecy. By reacting to the truth of Wilson and Dominika leaving him the way he does, he seals his fate and they ultimately leave anyways. Maybe I ship Hilson, but becoming open to how their relationship was handled allowed me to transition to doing character studies and recognizing patterns/parallels that I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't particularly care about the characters or their relationship.

Likewise, I've seen mutuals complain about how people who don't like or don't care about certain characters often overlook these characters (what they're actually like and their place in the narrative), while the mutuals in question (by default) are able to come to deeper understanding of what the writers/story is trying to do because they care about this funky guy

You can't eradicate bias when you're engaging in media analysis, but you can consciously put on a range of lenses and observe the media through different povs with the goal of understanding the media better or bolstering your reading of it. And those lenses/povs can include focusing on specific relationships or the perpective of certain characters

And this is why I say it's actually a mindset problem. Shippers and people who have this one blorbo they like a lot aren't inherently terrible "fandom brained individuals" who are the root of media analysis problems. The problem only arises when people's readings/analysis of a piece of media are inherently restrictive/narrow and self centered. Your problem is with people who view a piece of media through a ship they like but don't keep an open mind about it, and whose "media analysis"/views on canon cannot be split from fanon and their comfortability levels. These are the people whose "media analysis" starts and ends with justifying their fanon as canon, whose views on media revolve around sorting characters and relationships into categories they personally enjoy rather than trying to understand what's going on.

Here's another example.

Here we have a fictional ship we'll call uhhhh...Blanebin. this fictional ship I made up on the spot for characters that don't exist named Blane and Corbin

Person A is super into Blanebin. They're part of the main cast of characters and canonically childhood best friends, so person A (as much as they enjoy fanart and fic) is also enjoying analyzing how narratively important to each other they are. Recently, Corbin started dating another character in canon, but Person A is enjoying watching how Blane is reacting to this. "Is this potentially a tell that Blane is jealous or is having complicated feelings about this? What if he was, how would that contextualize his behavior this season? Here's what I think based on how Blane dealt with explicit jealousy last season in a different situation". It's not impossible that person A is still missing further understanding due to their obsession with Blanebin, but at the end of the day this obsession has allowed them to start picking through the characters both in and outside this relationship. It has allowed them to see potential subtext and theorize on what might happen next with these characters' relationship. Not to mention that with addition of Corbin dating someone else, instead of trying to erase this fact or state that Corbin canonically isn't into that person, Person A is trying to factor in how Corbin's current dating life affects his relationship with Blane (irregardless on personal views on the nature of Corbin's relationship with the person he's dating).

Person B is also super into Blanebin. They really enjoy fanart and fic of the characters, love obsessing over their moments together, and just feel like there's really something between the characters. To person B, every moment between them is just further proof that the writers are ship teasing them. But Corbin getting together with someone else this season? Oh that pissed person B off. They cannot believe that even though Corbin and Blane are CLEARLY gay for each other the writers had Corbin get with someone else this season. Perhaps, they think, it was even a decision specifically made to spite fans. How evil of the writers to tease a perfectly good ship and then have them not get together first? They must have been just doing those teases to get views from Blanebin shippers those scoundrels. To Person B, since Corbin started dating someone when he obviously has some chemistry with Blane (even though the series is far from over) means that Blanebin can never get together now and Corbin x person he's dating is ruining Blanebin by existing. In fact, they think, this is terrible writing for Corbin to be dating someone else because they don't like that relationship and don't see the point. Obviously if the writers were good then Corbin would have started dating Blane instead because this was supposed to be the Blanebin show.

Person C despises Blanebin. Don't get them wrong, they've always enjoyed the character's childhood friendship, but they actually have always thought Blane would have been better off with Victoria. They have a lot of moments too! But they're tired of seeing people ship Blanebin. Corbin just got together with someone else, so obviously that's not gonna work out. Plus Corbin and Blane totally has always given person C bro vibes. In fact, person C thinks, sure Corbin and Blane have a close friendship, but people shouldn't be shipping them. Person C likes Blanetoria and Blanetoria can't be canon if Corbin is in the way of it. So Person C likes to read Blanebin as siblings anyways. Sure they're canonically friends, but obviously their friendship turned into brotherhood. This means that nothing can be in the way of Blanetoria and Corbin can keep dating the person he's already canonically dating. Actually, now Blanebin just straight up makes Person C uncomfortable. Don't the pesky shippers understand that Blanebin are sibling coded because they're childhood best friends and that they're important to each other because they're brothers? It's obvious to anyone with eyes.

Sure, ships are involved here, but is the root of this problem shipping? Character A isn't as knowledgeable of other characters in the plot due to this lens they're using, but at the end of the day they're dedicated to analysis. Their love of the characters is pushing them beyond what they like or dislike to try to understand what might be happening through their lens. Not perfect, but they are slowly broadening their horizons. But Person B and C's problems here are their restrictiveness. What is or should be canon to them is tantamount to what they personally like or find comfortable. Is person C actually analyzing the this fake show when they decide to "read" Blanebin as basically canonically siblings (and this all of their moments are totally a bro thing) just because they don't like Blanebin and the idea of them getting together over Blanetoria makes them uncomfortable? Is person B actually analyzing this fake show when their "analysis" of Blanebin goes only as far as asserting it's being ship teased and deciding anything short of canonizing Blanebin is a targeted attack or "bad writing" because it's not what they wanted personally to happen?

This is what I'm talking about. This is the mindset. Shipping isn't the problem. The problem is when people marry fanon and canon to the point where they have a vested interest in superimposing their fanon over canon as "a reading" and trying to make "collective decisions" on what is canon (or what canon is trying to say) based on what does or doesn't make them uncomfortable. The problem is people being restrictive and centering their own likes and dislikes in the conversation, so they can only interact with canon "analysis" wise by deciding what is canon or should be canon "as obviously agreed on by everyone". You can't simply claim you like media analysis. To be able to analyze media and bolster your views on any given canon, you must be open to looking at it through multiple povs, to studying characters without trying to pretend things you don't like don't exist or do like do exist. There is a balance that must be kept between trying to keep objectivity and putting on specific focus/bias based upon the lenses you're putting on. You have to be willing to try to figure out what a media is doing or saying, not saying you're trying to figure out what it's saying while in actuality trying to define the narrative around what people believe it's saying in ways that suit you.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[laugtherhyena]

Being silly, playing clangen again

[a-blip-of-billdip]

this isnt what i usually post on this blog but I'm already sick of all the memes and 'jokes'. I am almost certainly leaving the fandom for good now because of the book of bills release and NO it is not because billford's community has an influx of supporters.

So the worship and romanticization of asylums and other abusive practices for mental health have been steadily gaining traction in recent years, especially with the rise of tiktok's toxicity.

SO many people, especially younger people, regularly talk about how they want lobotomies or how women they don't like should be lobotomized. They get tattoos of lobotomy like it's some quirky fun thing and not one of the most horrific tortures someone can endure.

These same people, ESPECIALLY leftists, will look at anyone they disagree with or don't like and say "get institutionalized, loser" or "et therapy" and it's always in a mocking way. it's always in a policing way.

because these people know that mental wards strip everyone of their freedom and their bodily autonomy. they know these places arent for healing--theyre for silencing.

So the amount of people i see treating bill being institutionalized like a good thing---even the writers and alex himself?

Yeah. Im out ✌🏼

[cephalofrog]

noah caldwell-gervais is the only motherfucker to have ever been correct about dark souls and elden rings' difficulty. no one else understands

[bigboobshaunt]

One of the laziest, yet super common things you can do as a video game critic is to describe a game coming out only in terms of what two other games it feels like a mixture of. If I, the person reading your review, am not familiar with either game and you've not managed to accurately describe it at length without further comparison, you've already lost one reader.

I'm sure it feels like you're writing mostly to an audience that already buys most notable new releases, but I assure you this is not the reality for most people right now, especially as games continue to get more and more expensive.

[pumpking64]

.

usually i’m a very accepting person but right now i wish that whoever is playing music with pounding bass in a neighbouring building just loud enough for me to hear it for the last four hours to go fuck off. so hard.

it’s two in the night. i know it’s a weekend. but by all that is good in this world will you please just shut the fuck up

[dancerinthesky]

Drilling canon Harry Potter content into my head so that I can stay sane and sensible at my graveyard shifts in the Marauders fandom.

Warning: the tags got genuinely stupid im sorry i'm so sleepy

[alygator77]

another wip from me. hehe. supermodel satoru.

warnings: mdni, smut, fluff, masturbation, obsession. (honestly, satoru feels kinda yandere af. he's fucking down bad for you.)

supermodel! satoru whose life is a whirlwind—flashing cameras, designer clothes, and breathless whispers of adoration. on the surface, he has it all: the perfect career, the perfect face, the perfect life. but perfection… has its price.

supermodel! satoru who, after a ten-hour photoshoot that left him feeling more mannequin than man, slumps into the cold embrace of his sleek penthouse. the city glimmers outside his floor-to-ceiling windows, vibrant and alive, but it feels distant, like a movie playing on mute. he’s surrounded by luxury but drowning in solitude.

supermodel! satoru who, running on three hours of sleep and bad coffee, barely notices when his fingers fumble over his phone, sending a text message to you—meant for his manager. tossing the phone aside with a sigh, he stretches out on the couch, exhaustion pulling at his limbs—unaware that this accidental message is about to flip his world upside down.

supermodel! satoru who, when your response comes through, doesn’t realize at first that he’s texted a stranger. his initial confusion shifts to mild annoyance, but that changes the moment he reads your sharp, unfiltered reply. intrigue replaces irritation, and before he knows it, he’s texting back, unable to resist the pull of you on the other end.

supermodel! satoru who keeps his identity a secret, finding it strange at first, but soon, it becomes refreshing. for once, he’s not the face on billboards or the name in glossy magazines. no—for the first time in forever, someone is talking to him—not his fame, not his face, just him.

supermodel! satoru who finds himself grinning like an idiot whenever his phone buzzes with your name. you tell him about your life—mundane, you call it, but to him, it’s captivating. days turn into weeks—texts in the middle of the night when he’s jet-lagged and bored in some foreign country. voice notes where you laugh at his terrible jokes.

supermodel! satoru who one day, finally reveals who he is, and with a mix of arrogance and curiosity, boldly asks for your photo—eager to see the face behind the name he’s grown so fond talking to.

c’mon now... I show my face to the world every day. least you could do is show me yours ;)

your reply pings through, accompanied by an attachment, and for a moment, his breath catches.

supermodel! satoru who has seen countless beautiful people, surrounded by them every day, but there’s something about you that has him hooked. perhaps it’s not just the way you look—it’s the way you’ve made him feel. for the first time in forever, he’s not just admired; he’s seen.

supermodel! satoru who ends up sprawled out on his couch later that night, your picture propped up on the coffee table in front of him as he grips his shaft. his shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor, his sweatpants pushed down to his thighs as his cock strains in his hand—red, leaking and desperate for attention. all he can focus on is you.

supermodel! satoru whose glossy lips part as he pants, pumping his dick, his head tipping back while the phone’s glow casts shadows across his flushed skin. his penthouse is filled with the slick sound of his hand sliding over his length, mixing with his shuddering breaths.

“fuuuck… so fucking pretty…” he rasps, his hips bucking into his fist. his strokes grow faster, more desperate, as his body thrums with heat.

supermodel! satoru who murmurs your name like a prayer, thick with need, chasing his inevitable release. “nnngh… gonna—ahhh—gonna cum f’you,” he moans, breathy and broken. His voice cracks as his back arches off the couch.

supermodel! satoru whose strokes grow frantic, erratic, his abs flexing tight as thick, hot ropes of cum spill over his stomach, painting his skin in sticky streaks of white. the release leaves him trembling, every drop wrung from his body as a low groan escapes his parted lips.

supermodel! satoru who exhales a quiet laugh, his chest heaving as a lazy smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. he trails his fingers through the mess, smearing it across his toned abs as his smirk deepens—amused and awed by how much you’ve made him cum.

supermodel! satoru who can’t focus during his photoshoot the next day, every click of the camera drowned out by thoughts of you. his mind lingers to the filthy fantasy of your body beneath his—your lips whispering his name, your legs wrapped around his waist.

the ache in his pants becomes unbearable, and he excuses himself, slipping away to the bathroom under the pretense of ‘fixing his hair.’

supermodel! satoru who locks the bathroom door behind him with trembling fingers, his breath hitching as he pulls up your photo again. his hands fumble with the buttons of his designer pants, desperate to release his aching erection.

supermodel! satoru who stares at your picture with half-lidded eyes, his thumb swiping over the swollen tip of his dick, spreading a slick bead of precum across the sensitive head. "fuck… you’ve got me so worked up," he whispers with a cocky smirk, and his free hand grips the edge of the sink, his cock twitching eagerly in his fist.

“pretty girl… god, I’d ruin you,” he shudders as he fucks his hand. with a sharp inhale, he reaches out to twist the handles of the porcelain sink. but honestly, the cascading water is a feeble attempt to drown his debauched sounds—sounds he knows he can’t hold back.

supermodel! satoru whose mind spirals into pure filth, his fantasies running wild as he pictures your body beneath his—writhing, trembling, utterly at his mercy. your hands would cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he holds your legs apart, spreading you wide as he fucks your tight little hole.

"bet you'd look so fucking good under me," he hisses through gritted teeth. “all spread out, legs shaking… pretty little mouth begging f’me.” his hand tightens around his cock as his hips jerk forward, “fuuuuck, you’d take me so well, wouldn’t ya? haaa—every fucking inch.”

supermodel! satoru who is teetering on the edge when a sharp knock cuts through the haze, echoing against the bathroom door.

“satoru? you’re needed back on set!” his manager calls, muffled but clear.

but his strokes turn frenzied, the interruption fueling the thrill—the sheer audacity of jerking off in the middle of a shoot. his moans mix with the rush of running water and the persistent pounding on the door.

“shit—fuck—fuck—” his voice cracks, his body seizes, and in that instant his cock erupts. he whimpers, milking his dick as his forehead falls forward against the mirror. as his thick hot seed spills on his hand, it streaks across the counter in messy, sticky arcs.

“satoru!” the knocking continues, louder this time, his manager’s voice growing sharper.

“i’m coming!” he yells back, and the irony of his words pulls a breathless laugh from his lips.

supermodel! satoru who stands there for a moment, panting, his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. he’s a fucking hot mess—cheeks flushed, his hair a disarray, and his lips are swollen from biting down so damn hard, trying to keep quiet.

supermodel! satoru who tucks himself into his pants, buckling his belt with practiced ease as his smirk slides back into place. he splashes cold water on his face, tidies his hair, and by the time he steps out of the bathroom, he’s the typical picture of confidence—swaggering back to set with a cocky grin as though nothing happened.

but deep down, he knows he’s utterly, completely fucked.

why? because you’ve become his favorite addiction, his sweetest downfall. and it’s only a matter of time before he finally makes you his.

a full fic for this will be coming out! lmk if you wanna be tagged. edit: taglist closed

[cakesexuality]

I've been disabled for almost 29 years. Here's what I've learned.

Tablets sink and capsules float. Separate out your tablets and capsules when you go to take them. Tip your head down when taking capsules and up when taking tablets. Liquigels don't matter, they kinda stay in the middle of whatever liquid is in your mouth.

If your pill tastes bad, coat it with a bit of butter or margarine. I learned this from my mom, who learned it from a pharmacist.

Being in pain every day isn't normal. Average people experience pain during exceptional moments, like when they stub their toe or jam their finger in a door, not when they sit cross-legged.

Make a medical binder. Make multiple medical binders. I have a small one that comes with me to appointments and two big ones that stay at home, one with old stuff and one with more recent stuff.

Find your icons. Some of mine include Daya Betty (drag queen with diabetes), Stef Sanjati (influencer with Waardenburg syndrome and ADHD), and Hank Green (guy with ulcerative colitis who... does a bunch of stuff). They don't have to be disabled in the same way as you. They don't even have to be real people. Put their pictures up somewhere if you want; I've been meaning to decorate my medical binders with pictures of my icons.

Take a bin, box, bag, basket, whatever and fill it with items to cope with. This can be stuff for mentally coping like colouring books or play clay or stuff for physically coping like pain medicine or physio tape.

Decorate your shit! My cane for at home has a plushie backpack clip hanging from the end of the handle and my cane for going places is covered in stickers. All of my medical binders have fun scrapbooking paper on the outside. Sometimes, I put stickers and washi tape on my inhalers and pill bottles. I used my Cricut to decorate my coping bin with quotes from my icons, like "I've seen enough of Ba Sing Se" and "I need you to be angrier with that bell".

If a flare-up is making you unable to eat or keep food down, consider going to the ER. A pharmacist once told me that since my eye flares can make me so nauseous that I cannot eat, then I need to go to the hospital when that happens.

Cola works wonders for nausea. I have mini cans of Diet Pepsi in my coping bin.

Shortbread is one of the only things I can eat when nauseous. Giant Tiger sells individually-wrapped servings of shortbread around Christmas or the British import store sells them year-round. I also keep these in my coping bin.

Unless it violates a pain contract or something, don't be afraid to go behind your doctor's back to get something they are refusing you. I got my cardiologist referral by getting in with a different NP at my primary care clinic than who I usually saw. I switched from Seroquel to Abilify by visiting a walk-in.

If you have a condition affecting your abdomen in some way (GI issues, reproductive problems, y'know) then invest in track pants that are too big. I bought some for my laparoscopy over a year ago and they've been handy for pelvic pain days, too. I've also heard loose pants are good for after colonoscopies.

Do whatever works, even if it's weird. I've sat on the floor of the Eaton Centre to take my pills. I've shoved heating pads down my front waistband to reach my uterus.

High-top Converse are good for weak ankles. I almost exclusively wear them.

You can reuse your pill bottles for stuff. I use my jumbo ones to store makeup sponges and my long skinny ones to hold a travel-size amount of Q-Tips.

Just because your diagnostics come back with nothing, it doesn't mean nothing is wrong. Maybe you were checking the wrong thing, or the diagnostic tool wasn't sensitive enough. I have bradycardia episodes even though multiple cardiac tests caught nothing. I probably have endometriosis even though my gynecologist didn't see anything.

You can bring your comfort item to appointments, and it's generally a green flag when someone talks to you about it. I brought a Squishmallow turkey (named Ulana) to my laparoscopy and they had her wearing my mask when I woke up. I brought a Build-A-Bear cat (named Blinx) to another procedure and a nurse told me that everyone in the hall on the way to the procedure room saw him and were talking about how cute he was. Both of those ended up being positive experiences and every person who talked to me about my plushies was nice to me. If you don't feel comfortable having it visible to your provider during the appointment, you can hide it in your bag and just know it's there, or if you're in a video appointment, you can hold it below frame in your lap.

Get a small bucket, fill it with stuff, and stick it in your bed (if you have room for it). I filled a bucket with Ensure, juice boxes, oatmeal bars, lotion, my rescue inhaler, etc. in October 2023 in anticipation of my laparoscopy and I still have it in my bed as of January 2025.

If your disability impacts your impulse control (e.g. ADHD, bipolar disorder), you should consider setting limits around your spending -- no more than X dollars at a time, nothing online unless it's absolutely necessary, and so on. Or, run these purchases by someone you trust before committing to them; I use my BFF groupchat to help talk sense into myself when I buy stuff.

Feel free to add on what you've learned about disability!

[ryusjwks]

yapping abt nonmc

Non-MC reader fanfics are always written by authors who know exactly how to hurt a person. The pain is so intense and so well-crafted that, dear God, sometimes I find myself rereading the same paragraph over and over again. And after a while, I start to see myself as that woman—waiting to be loved but never receiving it in return.

Imagine loving someone. Looking at them with the most fragile, the most human part of your heart. When you hear their voice, everything inside you comes to a halt, and your entire existence shifts toward them. But they… they don’t even notice you. Or if they do, their recognition is not with the powerful grasp of love, but with the light touch of mere acknowledgment.

To you, they are a star, the very center of the universe. But to them, you are just another speck of light in the sky. If you were to disappear, they wouldn’t feel your absence. You turn back, realizing your hands are empty, crushed under the weight of your love. And they? They continue revolving around another world, another sun.

You are a meteor, trying to rise and shine, but unable to enter their orbit—shattered by the gravity of a planet that was never meant to hold you. You dissolve into dust, fading into silence. And they move on, as if nothing ever happened.

This plays out differently for each character, but the ending remains the same.

In Zayne’s case, you are either his fiancée or his wife. He is always cold and distant. His words are measured, his presence heavy yet quiet. Even if storms rage behind his eyes, his face remains unreadable. He has always been this way, and you have accepted it.

But then, he smiles—at her.

That smile is like spring breaking through the ice, subtle, warm, and gentle. As if, for just a moment, the layers of frost within him have melted. And in that moment, you realize he was never truly like this—not for everyone. He is not just a distant man; he is only distant toward you.

And that’s when it sinks in. A weight settles inside you, stealing your breath for just a second. Because you have seen it now—he can be affectionate, he can be warm, he can smile. But that smile was never meant for you.

You are likely Sylus’s assistant, though in rare cases, you might be his wife. Sylus has always been indifferent—to everyone. To you. You walked in his shadow on the battlefield, threw yourself in front of bullets for him, but to him, it was merely necessity. A duty. Your presence was nothing more than part of the mission. Until she came along.

With her arrival, Sylus changed. His face softened when he looked at her, the sharpness in his voice faded. He made sacrifices for her, and when he spoke to her, the rigidness in his posture eased. Sylus was no longer the man you knew. Everyone questioned if he was still the same person, but you already knew the truth.

He hadn’t changed. He had simply never been yours.

With Xavier and Rafael, the pattern is almost identical. You are nothing more than a companion who has traveled through centuries with them, defying time itself.

As time weaves its path, they always take the lead—making decisions, guiding, fighting. And you? You are merely a shadow beside them. A witness. While they sacrificed their homelands for love, you were the one who heard the cries of the people they left behind. On one side was their passionate devotion, and on the other, your quiet grief.

For them, time had stopped. But for you, the world kept turning, though it no longer resembled the place you once knew.

And then there’s Caleb.

Caleb was always by MC’s side. He was her protector, her shield, her most trusted person. And you were there too. You grew up in the same house, sat at the same dinner table, shared the same stories. But his eyes always sought only MC.

Through the years, you watched how he looked at her. How he stepped forward at the slightest sign of danger, how every word he spoke to her carried an unshakable certainty. You bore witness to his protection, his sacrifices, his unwavering love—but never once was any of it directed at you.

You were there too. You lived those same moments. But you were never the center of his world.

Some see her as a mistress, a backup, an extra wedged between the main character and the LI. As if she were a mere footnote in someone else’s story, placed there by mistake. But she’s not.

She is not just someone trying to insert herself where she doesn’t belong. She was there from the very beginning. She walked the same path, fought the same battles, gazed at the same sky. She was never a stranger lingering on the edges of the story—she was a part of it.

The difference is that her name was never written into the main plot. Her words never echoed, her presence was never at the center. And yet, she was never just a replacement. Because love isn’t a competition, it isn’t a role to be filled, it isn’t about winners and losers.

She simply loved. With everything she had, without expecting anything in return. Her eyes were always on him, but his eyes were never on her.

[bluemoonbun]

Rotating an idea in my head;

Imagine a neglected!Reader who did everything in an attempt to impress their family.

Who got amazing grades and got into high school at age 11.

Who was "a savant beyond their years" and "talented beyond what their age group could be taught".

Skills came easy to them. Give them a year and some encouragement and before you know it they'll have mastered whatever it was.

It wasn't like they could leave the house and hang out with friends. Bruce said that was off the table. It got quiet so often in the manor.

But it wasn't enough

Until someone saw the potential that Batman was just leaving there. Like he wanted someone to just... scoop them up and tutor them.

Their friends and allies and even a few enemies saw the potential. They all agreed to teach them their greatest skill. In a year they've mastered all of them, even surpassing some of them.

Any drug they were developing was improved beyond anything they could've imagined.

Weapons fashioned to fit them far surpassed anything, even the best on the black market.

The Rogue Gallery was beyond impressed.

And Reader was on Cloud Nine with all the attention it was earning them. Head pats, praise, treats. It was more than anything they could've asked for. And even if they didn't have a new invention at the end of the week, so many were willing to just hang out. Without prompting! No "Go bother Alfred" or "I'm busy" or "Another time, chickadee".

Harley had to be reminded that a 12 year old had no business around hyenas, even if Budsie and Louie were on their best behavior. Harley settled for watching old magical girl animes with you.

Luckily, Poison Ivy knew not to bring you around her poisonous plants. Though she did spend a concerning time teaching you exactly what plants were poisonous and how they were poisonous.

Bane taught you everything he knew, from throwing a punch, to how to scare someone off. Granted, a 12 year old, with so much of their baby fat in their cheeks, and wrists as thick as Bane's thumb, looked like a Ragdoll kitten copying a Bengal tiger. He played chess with you too, and he said that given your role in advising, a knight or a bishop would fit you best.

Bane was your favorite. He'd smush your face (gently, you were so tiny he was scared of breaking you), lift you up, even do pushups and pull ups with you on his back.

When Bane told you how he'd saved Alfred once during a collapse of Arkham Asylum, only to be incapacitated once Alfred was "done" with him, it made your blood boil.

As you learned all of their stories, learned the human in all of them, you knew that you were saved from a family with rotten blood. You'd spend your life repaying them, even if they never asked.

--------

Eventually, you decide to follow them into battle. You're kept up and away from the bulk of the battle. This time, it was Joker vs the Batfamily. Tim was unable to track what he'd been trying to do past a few errant clues. It was clear that the Rouge Gallery had a new villain.

You were given direct instructions to watch yourself; Joker wouldn't care enough to tear his eyes off Batman. You already knew that; Harley had spent 3 days trying to convince you to reschedule with someone else, but you told her you wanted Joker, not someone who'd be tempted to glance back and give away your hiding space.

Jason was the one that saw you. You were dressed in a costume that resembled a bishop chess piece with a split full face mask, perched atop a van far from the actual battle. His old scars with Joker made him hesitate, but you looked like a definite person of interest, and everyone else was indisposed.

He ran over, firing rubber bullets as you dodged, eventually tripping and falling off the van. Why were you so small? Jason picked you up, grip just loose enough so you could breathe.

You reached up, pulling your mask off. Jason blanched as he saw your face, soft around the edges and wide eyed.

Bruce told him that he'd stayed away to protect you from the vigilante life. You were the one person who hadn't pushed to join them, so he never told you about missions to avoid any ideas of joining. Jason followed suit, and so did the others. Their lives were busy enough anyways, and you had Alfred when he didn't have something more important to do.

He may have brushed you off more than absolutely necessary, but he wasn't in the right headspace then! You had already grown so much and all he'd wanted by then was vengeance on Batman. You couldn't blame him for keeping his distance at that point. He was protecting you.

But here you were, pinned by the throat by your own brother. Your protector. He released you, taking a step back. He glanced around for an opening, seeing a small alleyway. He gestured over his shoulder for you to follow. "C'mon kid. I'll get you back home and I won't even tell Bruce you snuck out, 'k?"

Suddenly, he felt a prick in his back, shortly followed by a burning itch and ice cold pain. He fell to the ground, trying to reach the spot you pricked.

"Miss Ivy said these were dangerous. Her own home blend. It's a diluted version, so you'll be fine in a few days, Todd" said the much too calm voice above him. He was struggling to breathe around the writhing mass of pain, looking up at you between blinks of tears.

He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe. He could die here and the family wouldn't know until the dust settled.

"It won't kill you, and from the looks of it, they'll be coming to pick you up soon."

"Aren't we family?" He chokes out between gasps. He felt so lost. You were his baby sibling, the tiny thing that'd wander the halls, holding an old chess board as you asked your cool big brother to play with you. The person he kept away from to protect. How could you repay him like this?

Hadn't he done so much for you?

You look at him from the boot of the van. When had you gotten so far away? Your voice is quiet, but it's heard, if barely, over the revving of the engine as Joker's minions prepare to drive away, and the screaming of his name as the rest of the family approaches.

"Were we? I never thought you wanted a baby sibling like me."

-------

The Batfamily took him home and patched him up. The new tech, like all other recent inventions brought in, were so advanced they bordered on state of the art. Even Tim was struggling to decode any of them, with all the kill-switches that seemed to recognize when it wasn't hooked up to the original computer and bricked themselves.

Jason had recovered, like you said, in a few days. Capable of breathing easily in 2 days, regularly needing to be sedated before then, and sitting up without pain by day 5.

The Batfamily had asked him by day 4 about the masked person they had seen next to him. Jason was detached from himself. That face, those eyes. They held no warmth for him, no pity for him while he was writhing in agony at their feet. Like he was less than a stranger.

Like he was less than human in their eyes.

Your name fell off his tongue like lead, slamming against the ground as everyone fell into silence.

"It was them. They gave me that injection. Their face, I-"

"Todd, did the injection give you hallucinations? There was no way that they'd accomplish something like that." Damian raised his brow, checking the chart to make sure the bulk was out of his system.

"I know what I saw. They hadn't even injected me when I saw their face."

"That's impossible, Jay! Look, I'll go to their room and get them right now. They'll probably be pretty cranky since it's, what, 4am?" Dick's footsteps disappeared down the hall.

After a few minutes, Dick came running back, looking at Jason with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion.

Two words.

Two words that finally made them look at you.

Two words that made them realized what they'd missed.

Two words that made them connect the inventions that almost got them killed to the darling child they'd convinced themselves they were protecting with cold shoulders and smothering silence.

Two words that made them refocus their sights on bringing you back.

"They're gone."

[hoondrop]

ENHA AND BREEDING KINK

warnings: breeding kink, possessive sunghoon, knocking up, mention of choking, mention of cum play

most of the members have a breeding kink, you can't convince me otherwise however, they lie on different parts of the spectrum and have different reactions to you wanting them to breed you.

heeseung does not want to be too possessive but at times he's unable to contain the feeling, and what better way to channel it than to cum in you.

heeseung is absolutely obsessed with how his cock feels in your pussy and the image of yours and his cum leaking out of your hole. the first time you brought up the idea of unprotected sex and him cumming in you, he envisioned the sight of your eyes rolling back, your nails digging into his skin and the sight of his and your cum dripping out of your hole

and the more he thought about it (he has fantasized about it many times who's he kidding) the more he wanted to try it out. just the thought of him finishing in you had his cock twitching and he couldn't wait to do it.

the first time he fucks you raw, heeseung definitely cums quicker than he does usually. he never thought of himself having a breeding kink but when he sees his release dripping out of your hole, suddenly the vision of you carrying his babies doesn't seem far.

jay may have a few kinks he's shared with you and some that he's holding off until the right time and he is sure that someday in the future he wants to have kids with you, and even though he's big on protection and everything, he is also a hopeless romantic.

so maybe special occasions like birthdays or anniversaries are the exception when he holds you close, whispering confessions and promises of love and a future together with you while he has you in a mating press.

he's fond of the idea but he's not vocal about it as much, maybe a few comments about how pretty you'll look in the future when you carry his kids someday. but right now, he's content with leaving his marks on your body and his load in your hole.

jake. he's what you can call a freak who is obsessed with you and loves to leave you in a mess of his and your spit and cum.

the day you gave him the greenlight to fuck you raw and cum in you, poor baby almost came in his pants on the spot. it felt like christmas came early for him and without wasting any second, he was already tearing his and yours clothes off.

breeding you is the only thing on his mind, and as someone who's also into cum play, he'll finger you, spreading his release all over and around your cunt and then maybe either finger you until you're squirting or maybe he'll lap it all up with his tongue.

all in all, he's a messy freak who loves cumming in you and will go multiple rounds just so he can see your spent cunt dripping with his seed.

sunghoon. honestly, he's one of the most possessive if not the most possessive yet silent about it. it's not about knocking you up but more about claiming ownership of you by making sure your pussy is full of his cum.

and when the day comes when you manage to choke out for him to cum in you, his eyes get darker and he lets out that low chuckle that has your toes curling and your panties dropping..

he'll definitely comment something along the lines of you wanting to be claimed by him so bad that you're toying with the possibility of carrying his babies.. how you're so desperate for him to own you, for everyone to know you're his. he does not want kids for a while but theoretically, he can't wait to knock you up.

sunoo. when it comes to sunoo, having unprotected sex is a sign of trust and complete and utter devotion. he's a very responsible and careful person like jay, and knows how to control himself.

but there are moments where he just wants to be close to you, nothing coming in between the feel of his length. dragging in and out of you at a delicious pace, seeing the ring of your wetness form at the base of his cock.

does he think and whisper about the time when you both have to worry about protection sometime in the future after marriage? yes, he's quite vocal about it especially when he is balls deep in you, pressed in a missionary position, murmuring how he can't wait to take you like this every day.

jungwon. jungwon may seem like he has control over himself, but does he really? not when you're straddling him, sliding your folds along his length, feeling every vein and ridge of his pretty cock.

all resolve and caution is thrown out the window when he looks up at you, his usual boba eyes now glinting with that familiar look. and the second you start moving up and down his length, he doesn't care what the consequences can be.

all he wants, all he needs and all he thinks and pictures is holding you down by your hips as he shoots his cum up into your pussy.

[ninisdollie]

‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧

Jay’s hands…

you don’t remember exactly when the obsession started. maybe it was the first time you saw him play guitar, veins along his forearms flexing, his long, elegant fingers pressing against the strings with such confident ease. they were veiny, just the right amount of rough, and the way his knuckles flexed as he changed chords had you swallowing hard. he was wearing silver rings that day—your favorite—and your eyes kept darting to them every time they glinted under the soft lamp light.

“they’re so pretty…” you whispered with soft, dreamy voice.

he stopped playing and looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “my hands?”

“they’re just so perfect, Jay. is not fair.” you traced a finger down his wrist, trailing over the veins with a soft gasp. “do you even know what you do to me?”

his jaw tightened the smugness faltering as your touch lingered.

“you like them that much, princess?” he teased, but there was heat behind it now. he set the guitar aside, tilting your chin up. “should i show you what else they can do?”

or maybe it was when he first touched you.

because Jay doesn’t just touch, he handles. gently. like you’re precious. like if he pressed just a little harder, you’d bruise, and he’d never forgive himself. his hands always find you. on your thigh when he’s driving, thumb lazily brushing your skin like he needs to remind you that you’re his. on your waist at parties, when someone else’s gaze lingers too long and his grip subtly tightens, never rough, but enough. enough for you to feel it. enough for him to make a point. under tables at dinner with the guys, his fingers resting on your bare skin while he talks like nothing’s happening, all casual and composed while you try not to shift too obviously in your seat.

you’re the one who asked, shy and breathless, for his fingers in your mouth one night, unable to stop staring. he hesitated at first, always afraid of crossing a line, of hurting you, but he gave in when you begged. and fuck, he groaned, low and quiet, letting you pull two of his fingers past your lips.

now you always do it.

your mouth is so warm, your tongue swirling around them immediately, like you’ve been waiting for this all day. you suck slow, messy, eyes fluttering shut as you moan softly around them. and Jay is mesmerized, watching you absolutely fall apart from something so simple. he tightens his arm around your waist, other hand twitching at his side. “you’re really doing this just from my fingers, huh?” he murmurs, voice lower now, strained. “you’re such a dirty little thing.”

you whimper around him, drool starting to slip from the corners of your mouth as you bob your head slightly, like you need more. he watches the spit string between your lips and his knuckles, and it drives him crazy.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, tugging you closer, voice rough in your ear. “my messy girl.”

then came the night you asked for more.

“put your hand around my throat?”

he’d blinked, startled, like you’d just spoken another language. you felt his breath catch before he even answered.

“you’re serious?”

and when you nodded, flushed, needy, voice small, he listened. his fingers came up slow, wrapped so carefully around your neck like he thought you might break. the pressure wasn’t hard. just present. your body’s response was immediate. back arching, thighs tightening, eyes fluttering.

and that’s when he changed.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice low and ruined, “you like this. you—you really like this.”

and now? he can’t stop. it’s never too much. never careless. just perfect. like everything he does to you.

like the way he curls his fingers when they’re inside you, hitting just the right spot, soft and slow and purposeful like he’s more focused on making you fall apart than getting off himself. he always knows what you need, when to tease, when to press deeper, when to go still and just hold you.

in quiet moments, he takes your hand. always. never just grabbing it, no, he locks fingers. pulls it close. holds it tight. sometimes he lifts them to compare, palm to palm, brow furrowed like he can’t get over the size difference. “look at this,” he’ll whisper, tracing your fingers with his. “mine cover yours completely.”

he lives for it.

because you were obsessed with his hands from the start. but nothing compares to the way he looks at yours, like they belong in his. like the only place you should ever be is right next to him, hand in hand, thigh under his palm, jaw in his touch, body under his control.

he’s so soft and gentle with you, and you are completely sure that his hands were made just for you.

[pepshee]

First Place

when you make a bet with your best friend—loser is forced to do what the winner wants—but his demands for you aren't exactly what you expected, but you're fully willing to comply.

Pairing - heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - friends with benefits, friends to ???, smut

Word count - 2k

Warnings - p in v, creampie, cliche, degrading (he calls reader a slut), fingering, mentions of other enha members, Mario kart mention, stripping, lmk if I missed anything!

A/N - I was gonna lowkey abandon writing but here I am.. back again... again, sorry if it's bad, and thank you to the anon in my inbox who gave me writing advice! i dont feel like using capitalization in this one so im not gonna... anyways.. enjoy! also yes im aware its kinda cliche

MDNI 18+

heeseung was always your best friend; he was always there when you needed him and vice versa. meeting him in high school was the best twist of fate ever. those four years would've ended up miserable had it been someone else.

there was a decent amount of girls after him, but that was never a bother. in fact, he was always your wingman, helping you find ways to ask out your crush without looking like a complete ditz. he had a couple of girlfriends throughout high school, but they never really lasted.

he was able to tell when you were upset and was somehow always able to pinpoint the reason. you'd never thought of him in a romantic light, although he was extremely attractive. it was like a forbidden fruit, something you were too scared to explore.

after graduation, applying to the same college as one another seemed scary. what if only one of you got in? what if neither of you got in? those worrying questions quickly disappeared when one day you both opened your results and found out you were both accepted.

he made new friends, and so did you, but one thing was that you never forgot each other. you both still regularly hung out and went to your usual coffee shops or shopping malls.

heeseung and his friends are at his dorm, and he had given you permission to come and go in his dorm without asking whenever you wanted whether he was there or not. his roommate, Jake, was hesitant about this at first, but just agreed to avoid drama, however, he grew to not mind it.

you were bored lying in your dorm room, so you got up to go to his dorm. upon walking in, you find him, his roommate, and his friends all huddled together in the living room, some on the couch, some on the floor, and the rest standing around. through a closer look, it wasn't hard to locate a couple of them, including heeseung, who were equipped with gaming controllers; they were playing video games.

one of his friends who wasn't playing hears the door opening and looks at you. you don't know his friends well, except for his roommate, but you did know their names.

the friend who saw you, jay, smirks upon noticing your presence. you didn't know the reason, but you just left it alone with a shrug of your shoulders. jay tapped heeseung—whose attention was occupied by whatever game it is that they're playing—and he replied without even looking away from the tv screen. "what is it? I'm trying to win, dude," he said. jay leaned into heeseung's ear and whispered something that you were unable to hear.

heeseung paused the game, earning him a few groans from his friends who also held controllers before turning his head to the door where you were standing. he smiled at you, "hey y/n! come here, we're all playing video games!" after walking over to him you both quickly realize there's no room on the couch for you to sit, but that problem didn't last very long. he hits his friend sitting next to him, sunghoon, not very hard but so sunghoon will know what heeseung is trying to get him to do.

sunghoon promptly got up, before you even got time to process him getting up, heeseung grabbed your wrist and pulled you to sit down next to him on the couch. it wasn't hard to notice the looks and smirks his friends gave each other once he did this, but you didn't think anything of it.

"why'd you show up to my dorm this time?" he looked at you, the game still paused, but it seemed his friends were more focused on you two rather than the game now. you let out a small laugh at his comment, "i got bored so i came here, but you're already busy i see." he shakes his head, "i'm not busy, we're just playing games, now watch me win," he smirks, he's always been quite cocky but it's part of his charm.

he unpaused it and continued the competitive game with an intense focus. after a bit, the game was over, and well, heeseung didn't win, but that's not important. he throws a playful fit about losing, and after a bit, he turns to you. "hey, lets play the hardest map on mario kart and whoever loses gets to boss the loser around, but it's just us two," he grins at his own idea, hoping you accept.

he almost cheers when he sees you nod, and signals one of his friends to hand you a controller. he selects the map, and as the game starts, he's completely in the zone; he really wants to win, to have power over you.

after crossing the finish line for the final time, heeseung had won, which makes you let out a groan of disapproval. his friends all laugh as heeseung lightly pushes and teases you. "I knew you were a loser!" he teases, making you hit him on the shoulder. "knock it off, i hate you, you have more experience!" you argue back, and he just laughs.

"okay so now I get to tell you what to do," he smirks. you roll your eyes, but he suddenly shooes his friends out of his dorm while they shoot him knowing looks, and mocking kissing gestures. it's like they know something you don't, which makes you nervous. why would they leave that easily?

after they had left, heeseung shifts around in his seat and turns back to you. "so.. now I need to think about what I'm gonna make you do.. maybe me and jakes dishes? the laundry?" he says, basically talking to himself. he just sits there thinking for a moment, occasionally throwing out random ideas until his face changes, finally landing on one. "y/n, we've been friends for a long time, yeah?" you nod, waiting for him to continue. "you know.. you're really pretty, and I think I've made my decision..." your heart flutters for a second at the tone he used; he never really talked to you like this before. he's told you you're pretty, but the way he said it this time was different.

"strip for me," his tone completely serious, lacking any bit of sarcasm or signs that he's joking. your eyes go wide, and you look at him, bewildered at what he chose. "seriously? strip? hee—" he stopped you before you could finish, "I'm serious, I've always felt something towards you, this is my opportunity, I choose for you to strip," his tone lowering, you can see the desire and the hunger written in his eyes.

through your utter shock, you take a moment to think, he is attractive.. you've always thought he was. what's the harm in this? why not just do it?

you started by removing your hoodie. once he realized you were down for his demands, he couldn't look away. then you removed your shirt, followed by your pants, now just leaving you in your bra and underwear. heeseung was just sitting back, manspreading, smirking at you. he'd never seen you so exposed like this before. "so pretty, your body is so sexy," he commented, you could see the growing bulge in his grey sweatpants.

suddenly, he stood up, grabbing your wrist dragging you to his bed before promptly pushing you down onto it. he quickly crawled on top of you and smashed his lips onto yours. it was unexpected but not unwelcome as you kissed him back and moved one of your hands to bury your fingers in his hair. as the kiss continued, your grip on his hair got tighter, earning a groan from him, while one of his hands explored your thighs.

his hand made its way to the wet patch on your panties, touching you over the cotton. this caused you to let out a whine at the feeling; you wanted more, wanted him to touch you more. he clearly noticed this, "beg for it," he demanded. he clearly wasn't going to give it to you that easily even though it was his idea. "please heeseung, touch my pussy, please.." your pleas made his cock twitch in his boxers, he finally took your panties completely off, sliding them down your legs.

he ran his fingers slowly and teasingly through your already wet and slick folds. "all this for me? didn't think you loved the idea of fucking your best friend so much, you're just a slut aren't you?" his degrading words just fueled your desire for his cock even more even though it probably shouldn't.

he slowly inserted one finger into your cunt, the feeling causing a small moan to release itself from your mouth. he then added a second one and started out slowly moving his fingers in and out of your hole, but then he sped up and even curled the slightly making them hit your g-spot at just the right angle. you moaned at the pleasure that took over you as he continued to scissor his fingers inside of you. his thumb started to rub your clit further stimulating your pussy.

"heeseung im s' close—" he removed his fingers without warning, making you whine at the newfound emptiness. before you could even question, he removed his sweatpants and his shirt. you could feel the drool forming at the sight of his chest and physique, but then your eyes landed on something even more exciting, the stain on his boxers due to his leaking cock.

he removed his boxers next, his large cock springing out, the sight of it made your eyes widen. how would he even fit? "it'll fit baby, don't worry, I'll make it fit," he said almost as if he had read your mind. he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds and gave himself a couple strokes before finally lining himself up with your entrance. "i'm gonna fuck this pussy so good you hear me?"

he was so eager he didn't even go slow this time; he immediately rammed himself into you, enjoying the sight of the slight bulge he created on your stomach. he pulled out almost fully before thrusting back in, he repeated this process, making you a moaning mess. it was hard to tell where one of you started and where the other ended, "seungie- p-please.. keep going," you begged him, and he listened. he wasn't going to stop until you both came. you could feel his tip grazing your cervix, his cock stretching your pussy so good. you'd had sex before, but you could already tell heeseung is the best you'll ever get.

"come on baby, i know you're close, you like this don't you? like being my little slut," he was right, you did like it, you were close, he knew how to read you like an open book. "gonna cum—" is all you could manage to get out as the pleasure took over you making it almost impossible to form coherent sentences. not long after your words you let go, your release painting his cock forming a white ring at his base as he continued his thrusts chasing his own orgasm. "hold on love, i'm almost there, you can take it," he encouraged. his thrusts started to grow sloppy; he was close. finally, he came, his release painting the inside of your gummy walls. you'd never had anyone cum in you, you'd always had them pull out, but heeseung was different. you wanted him to cum in you.

he rolled off of you, now lying beside you as he brushed a sweaty strand of your hair out of your face. he looked at your bra still covering your tits, he leaned in to your ear and whispered "next time, I'm gonna fuck these pretty tits. I was so caught up with your pussy your poor boobs didn't get any love," he said almost sounding genuinely upset and sympathetic for them.

you wanted to ask what you two were now, but a pang of fear hit you; you were scared of his answer, so you decided to stay silent. you wanted to stay awake, but exhaustion was catching up. no matter how hard you tried to fight it, you couldn't. you finally closed your eyes and fell asleep, heseung followed soon after.

i hope you all liked it!! i'm not too confident about this one but yk.. anyways, this is only like the 4th evber fic ive ever written..... im aware its kinda fast paced, i did rush it oops....

[jinusajas]

05/21/25; 12:10am

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ you get severely injured ]

warnings: blood mention.

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

it all happened so fast-

one second, you were simply following sylus from close behind, readying your weapon as you shot at the wanderers that lunged at you.

and the next, there was a sharp pain felt going down your spine and the sensation of blood staining your uniform. it was enough to take your very breath away as you fell to your knees with sylus shouting your name.

the last thing you remember was falling-

being surrounded by his powerful embrace as you succumbed to a dreamless slumber-

one that sylus was terrified of you not waking up from.

so with your unconscious body held tightly within his embrace, sylus barks orders at luke and kieran, telling them to finish off the job with mephisto acting as their eyes.

with you in this state, there was no way the onychinus leader could focus on the mission at hand, let alone steady his gun to even aim properly at the hoard of enemies.

however, due to how he was fueled by rage, he manages to use his evol to disintegrate the wanderer that had attacked you from behind, dealing his revenge while leaving the area with you still in his embrace.

{ … }

your body felt sore, seeming to ache all over when your eyes fluttered open. as your eyes adjust to the intimate lighting of the room, you were dimly aware of a record player playing some soothing music.

was that clair de lune?

you had most likely survived that attack and had been taken to sylus’s main base of operations. sitting up in bed, you gingerly touch at the bandages wrapped on your side (a clear sign that someone had cleaned and cared for your wound).

“you’re finally awake.” you startle slightly at the sound of his voice, his footsteps echoing throughout the room as sylus enters with a tray of food in hand. his expression was unreadable, yet you could see the hint of worry within his crimson gaze.

setting the food off to the side, you felt sylus’s added weight on the bed while he gently lifts you up. his hands kept trembling as they wrapped around your form, unable to hide just how shaken up he was when you lost consciousness.

“how long was i out for?” your voice was hoarse from who knows how long from disuse, with sylus shaking his head while letting out a bitter laugh.

“roughly a week, which is still far too long for my liking.”

you were ready to apologize for making him worry-

for not seeing the enemy in time-

yet when you open your mouth, sylus suddenly surges forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that takes your breath away. no words needed to be spoken when you opened up to him, allowing your lover to explore your taste as he wraps his powerful arms around your body-

and when you manage to embrace him as well, you gave his back a gentle squeeze, reassuring him that you were still alive and would never leave his side.

your mission had gone awry, with you sustaining multiple injuries as you could feel your blood staining at your clothes.

for some odd reason, even as you felt the life draining out of you, you had a compulsion to see zayne again. your feet makes its steady trek toward akso hospital, drawing in the public’s concern as they surrounded you in the lobby.

“what happened?!”

“quick, get a doctor!”

even with all the barrage of voices, you kept repeating a single name over and over again-

zayne zayne zayne zayne-

as if in tune to your cries of his name, you saw a familiar figure dressed in white, his eyes filled with fear as you managed to smile up at him.

finally, zayne…

knowing that you were safe now, you fell to the ground as the cardiac surgeon breaks your fall. he holds you tightly against his chest, calling out so many orders that his throat began to hurt. without wasting another second, zayne takes you into the emergency room, ready to save you at any cost.

{ … }

the first thing that rouses you from your slumber was the incessant beeping of some machine-

the second was the uncomfortably bright lights that were felt burning at your eyelids, making you wince as you moved, only to feel something restraining you.

yet your slight moans and movements did not go unnoticed.

immediately, someone was heard stepping closer to you, hands gently holding yours as a soft voice speaks to you, “no sudden movements, you’re hooked up to an iv right now.”

finally, your eyes manage to flutter open, meeting zayne’s tired eyes and concerned gaze. something akin to relief was seen in his expression as he gently frames at your face with his two hands.

“you finally opened your eyes.” his tone was tinged with reverence as he takes a hold of your hand to press a kiss against the back of it.

despite how dry your throat felt, you managed to tell him, “i’m happy… i got to see you again.” zayne was trembling now, pressing several kisses on your knuckles while you continue to speak, “even when i felt like i was close to dying, all i could think of was seeing you again.”

words could no longer be spoken when zayne manages to capture your lips in a kiss that conveyed how much you meant to him. he delves his fingers into your hair, not once moving away from you as he deepens the kiss-

making you wonder if zayne was actually crying when you tasted what felt like the saltiness of his tears against your lips.

it was supposed to be a normal mission, one that you and xavier had experienced a million of times in the past. yet because of the high influx of wanderers in the area, everything became a blur.

you had taken out a group of wanderers, ready to call out to xavier when the sight of the beast lifting its claw, ready to strike his back makes you act on instinct. shielding xavier from the attack, you felt its claws pierce through the front of your uniform while managing to fire a single shot to its head.

as a sharp, throbbing pain was felt burning across your chest, you were aware of someone screaming your name. blood rushes to your ears, making it more difficult to hear when you fell to the ground-

only to be caught by a pair of comforting arms.

“i refuse to let it end, not like this!”

those were the last words that you heard before falling into an endless abyss.

{ … }

you awaken with a start, recognizing that you were currently in an infirmary at the association. you attempt to sit up, yet felt an intense ache that forces you back down on the bed.

“you shouldn’t have done that.” a low voice heard coming to your left breaks you out of your reveries, and your gaze lands on xavier. he was settled in a chair close to your bed, dark blue eyes appearing solemn, no longer having its usual tranquil, true blue hue.

“i’m sorry, but i didn’t want to see you get hurt-“

“and you figured that i would want to see you get hurt instead?!”

you were taken aback by how fervent his voice became, watching with wide eyes when he shoves aside his seat before coming closer to you. when he frames at your face, you could feel how his hands were trembling so much that they could barely keep still.

without another word, xavier captures your lips in a searing kiss. he moves against you with a desperation, telling you through his actions that he was terrified of losing you. and when you manage to kiss him back, you lift up a hand to delve into his hair, pulling him closer to you as you made an oath to get stronger so that you’ll never have to see the pain in xavier’s eyes ever again.

it was a deep cut on the back of your legs that rendered you unable to walk after a particularly grueling mission. in your throes of pain, you were immediately transferred to a hospital to get your wound treated.

admittedly, you had suffered through worse during past missions, yet your boyfriend of 3 years had other thoughts.

when he realized that you had gotten severely hurt, rafayel wasted no time heading to the hospital you were staying at. his expressive eyes were filled with tears as he remained glued to your side.

“l-listen, if this is to get back at me for pretending to not recognize you when i was a patient, then you’ve already got your revenge!” rafayel playfully whines to you, pressing the side of your face with a plethora of kisses, “don’t ever hurt yourself like that ever again!”

you spent a good amount of time comforting rafayel with your own kisses, reassuring him that you had no intentions of getting back at him for anything and that this was just an accident. yet still, you had to admit that it was quite cute to see rafayel clinging to you like a lost puppy.

it was also nice to see rafayel caring for you as well, even going as far as peeling an apple for you before cutting them into bite-sized pieces, feeding you with a playful smile on his face.

when night had fallen, rafayel manages to convince the medical staff to let him stay overnight with you. and despite how exasperated you felt with his antics, you were actually glad that rafayel was able to stay with you.

as he sleeps while resting his head on your bed, you smile and gently thread your fingers through his hair, rousing him from his slumber. he opens his hazy eyes, meeting your gaze while sleepily calling your name, “nnn, what is it, princess?”

remaining silent, you inch closer to him, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss as he responds eagerly to you. not allowing you to pull away, rafayel ends up deepening the kiss, conveying just how much you meant to him as he kept his lips locked with yours beneath the moonlight.

the rain manages to cover the stench of your blood, with you sustaining a wound on your left side. it was a surprise attack made by a wanderer, and you weren’t sure if you were going to make it.

with unsteady steps, you walk out of the alleyway, taking out your phone from your pockets as you called a single person. he picks up not even two rings later, his cheerful voice calling out your nickname-

yet all you could manage was cough up something bitter and metallic from your mouth.

“caleb…” you wheeze into your phone, coughing even more as your chest clenched in pain. “i’m so sorry… something went wrong with the mission, it hurts… so much-“

“stay on the line! where are you?!”

you detect the desperation in his voice, yet only smiled, “i love you, and i’m so sorry. so so so sorry.”

a sharp cry of your name was the last thing that you heard as you fell over face first in the rain covered street and dropped your phone, completely unaware of how the device was flashing as bold letters that spelled out TRACKING was seen across its screen.

{ … }

you wake up with a start, believing that you were still dreaming when you recognized the scent of caleb’s cologne surrounds you.

there was no way that you were still alive-

that you were actually within the safety of your shared bedroom with your boyfriend-

and there was certainly no way in hell that your boyfriend was glaring down at you at this very minute.

“i’m not dead?” your voice was hoarse, yet when you asked that question, a flash of annoyance was seen across caleb’s face.

“as if i’d ever let you die.” the colonel admits with a scoff, sitting next to you on the bed as he wipes the sweat from your brow. from his expression, it was clear that caleb was still shaken up from your near-death experience.

“what happened…?”

with his eyes flashing with pain, he shakily takes a hold of your hand while keeping it close to his lips, “i… i found you after tracking your phone. when i heard you collapse in the rain, my heart genuinely stopped. i was running on autopilot, rushing to you as i called someone- anyone to come and save you.”

he closes his eyes, taking a moment to breathe as you began putting the pieces together. “you called zayne?”

“he was the only one i could trust with saving your life.” caleb’s eyes were burning now as they met with your own, and you felt him press another lingering kiss against your hand. “and it was a good thing that he came at the right time. i didn’t know what i would do if he didn’t save you in time.”

as caleb thought about how much he owed zayne, he was broken out of his thoughts when you pulled him closer. “when i was out there, bleeding out-“

“don’t.” caleb sharply hisses in response, not wishing to relive the moment he thought he’d actually lost you, yet still, you continued.

“caleb, when i believed that i was about to die, all i could think about was you. i knew that as long as i heard your voice again, then i’d be okay-“

caleb doesn’t allow you to finish your sentence, the thought of losing you sending his mind into a frenzy as he crashes his lips into yours. he swallows the rest of your words and soft moans, tongue delving into your mouth as he tasted you, kissing you as if tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed while tightening his grip around you, swearing to never let you go for as long as he lives.

end notes: the new main story update got me feeling all type of ways, and i had to write a new story based on how everything made me feel 😭 currently unedited, but i’ll make any necessary changes once this is posted ♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!