#Can you be haunted by a past version of yourself? Can you look back and who you used to be is nothing but a ghost?

[aro-screams-into-the-void]

Hmm thinking about wtnv 171 has me thinking about Cale and mirrors. Like could y'all imagine if everytime Cale saw his reflection it was KRS? Or if he saw everyone he lost back in Korea? Imagine if everyone else saw it all too.

He'd cover up that big mirror in his room and avoid looking at his reflection as much as possible and obvi there's misunderstandings like "oh the young master is shy" "Cale must see how much he looks like Jour" "he's so humble" "ah he's making a point that appearances don't matter!" etc etc but like nah bro's just haunted

[thinkinonsense]

I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ

dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader

cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.

wc: 800+

a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.

Your Logan.

"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.

Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.

Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?

Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.

"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."

"I know."

Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.

"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.

"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."

Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.

"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."

"You don't have to be."

ᰔ

It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.

All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.

"What are you doin' awake?"

The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.

"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.

"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.

"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.

"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.

"Were we really married?"

You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.

"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.

"Five."

"What was our life like?"

"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."

"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.

"You would have to."

He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.

"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.

Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.

"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."

You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.

For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.

[dollfacefantasy]

ROLE REVERSAL ♡

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon finds his old raccoon city uniform. instead of letting the past haunt him, he dresses you in it. it looks much prettier that way.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, masturbation, officer/criminal roleplay, handcuffs

a/n: for my leon babies, i hope you all enjoy <3

kinktober slot: day 5 - roleplay

The points of your heels click against the hardwood slats on the floor of the bedroom. Thin and elegant, the tips slick and triangular. Your boyfriend watches you waltz into the room from his spot on your shared bed. The sharp post at the center of the head board supported his hands, bound by a shiny pair of silver handcuffs.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know why you're here today?" your voice asks, floating through the room in a seductive melody.

His eyes flit up and down over your figure. Your curves were clad in his police uniform. The spare one that hadn't seen the blood and guts of September 30th, 1998. The pale blue fabric remained pristine and bright. The golden badge on your breast glimmered as if Leon actually got to put it to good use. 

But he didn't have to think about that right now. Didn't have to remember how his life's dream had withered away with everything else in the nuclear blast. Instead he could look at you. How the cerulean polyester fits snug around your waist and chest. How you had the fabric tied into a little knot above your navel. How the pair of navy blue lace panties you had on below set off the light shade above perfectly.

A low whistle leaves his lips.

"No, sweetheart. But I gotta say, you look better in that old thing than I ever did," he responds.

A smile comes over your painted lips, but you still roll your eyes and stamp your heel.

"Leon!" you huff, "You agreed to do this, so you have to stay in character. That's not how you talk to an officer of the law."

"Oh, you're right. My mistake, officer," he says with a smirk. He clears his throat as if getting into character. "No. Not a clue."

That pleases you, and you continue walking towards the edge of the bed, your hips swaying with each step. A hair brush taps one of your palms. Your version of a night stick if he had to guess.

"I don't believe you. You've been a very bad boy. Committed a long list of crimes that should have you locked up for the next couple decades," you say.

As he watches your performance, he can't help but find you so cute. The way you speak, your attempt at taking control, is an obvious imitation of his cadence in intimate moments.

"Have I really?" he asks, eyes lazily drifting up to your face.

"Yep. But maybe, just maybe, if you give me some information about the people who put you up to it, we can make a deal."

"I'm not telling you a thing without my lawyer here," he says.

As cocky as he acted, Leon was already nude before you on the mattress. His pale skin almost glows in the dim orangey light of your bedroom. Scars trail across his abdomen that had become a little softer in the last several months. Brown hair dusts the skin of his tummy down to the collection of it curling above the base of his cock. His pretty cock, half-hard between his legs, just waiting for your attention.

You take advantage of his condition by ghosting the bristles of the brush over his v-line. The sensation tickles slightly. His hips twitch, and you see his dick jump at the faint touch to the sensitive area. 

"Why not? You can trust me, Mr. Kennedy. I just want to wrap this up as quickly as possible."

The broad end of your tool coasts over his stomach now, going up to his chest to tease his nipples before you swing it back down to the lower half of him. His heart beat picks up, and his blood starts flowing down south. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his length begin to stiffen.

"I'm not stupid," he says, his tone audibly huskier, "You never talk to the police without a lawyer."

Bringing your knee onto the edge of the foamy mattress, you boost yourself to kneel next to his immobile form.

"Normally I'd agree with you. But I'm different," you say. You come closer and swing your leg over his body so that you're straddling his lap, hovering above his cock. "Even though I believe you're guilty as sin, I want to help you."

His chest vibrates with the urge to groan at the feeling of your clothed heat so close to his aching shaft. "Why's that?" he chokes out instead.

"Because look at you. You're much more useful to me out here than behind bars," you say, reaching down behind and fondling his balls. The groan he held in before oozes from his mouth at the feeling. His cock kicks up now, resting against your center. You adjust to position the appendage between your legs. The cute pink tip stares up at you from where it peeks out of the junction between your thighs.

"That doesn't sound very professional, officer," he says. He has to remember that his hands are fastened above him because your hips call to him. The urge to squeeze them, to knead the flesh and smack your ass, boils in his chest.

You feel your clit starting to throb for his touch as well. The look in his eyes, the way his lips had parted to accommodate his breathing had you growing more and more damp by the moment.

"That, I never claimed to be," you say. 

You slide your hand down over your body, taking time to highlight the presence of his dated uniform. Your fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties. A shuddery breath leaves your lungs as your fingertip slots between your folds and finds your needy bud.

Your digit glides through the small amount of arousal, beckoning more to coat your cunt. He watches with lust-blown eyes, the surface beginning to glaze with desire. You whimper, the sound so soft and delicate it makes him buck upwards.

"Patience. You don't get rewarded for insulting me," you say and lift yourself away from him.

"Oh c'mon, baby," he grunts, "Gimme a break. I didn't insult you."

"Nope. I won't help you out unless you ask me properly," you say, grinning at the prospect of him groveling.

You play with your clit a little more, chest puffing within the confines of his top. You tilt your head back, and your spine arches with the dull pleasure you're providing yourself.

"Fuck..." he breathes, "Please, officer."

"Please what?"

"Please touch me."

The words come out laced with an intoxicating note of desperation. Your head returns to an upright position, your eyes blazing onto him.

"That's better," you purr.

By this point, you'd worked yourself up enough that the cloth guarding your cunt was soaked, sticky and clinging to your center. You spread your legs and lower to press yourself against him. He moans when your warmth makes contact.

You begin moving back and forth in tiny strokes. He whines and tugs on his restraints. The feeling of the fabric against him burns in the best way. A whine comes from you too as the bump of his tip strikes your bundle of nerves.

"Such a pretty, obedient boy. I bet I can whip you back into a functioning member of society in no time."

Grinding down with more pressure, a symphony of blissed out noises erupt from the two of you. Your palms rest on his belly to support yourself while your hips do all the work. Forward, backward, forward, backward. Like a pendulum you swipe over him in rapid succession.

Humping feels good. It always does. But after a while more, you crave a deeper sense of satisfaction.

You pull your panties to the side and grab his leaky cock. It had been drooling precum onto his pelvis, but now, it was going to be tucked inside you. You rise up and then sink back down, eliciting a mewl from yourself and another deep groan from your lover.

"See what happens when you behave and follow the rules?" you whimper.

"Uh huh. Think I'll be a much better citizen after this," he mutters.

You start to bounce, moving up and down on his shaft. The ridges of his veins rub against your insides. A chill runs up your spine. Bumps prickle up over your skin despite its heated nature. Your skin claps against his while pants puff from nostrils.

He's not keeping it together under you much better. He'd already been pretty close from the stimulation you'd given prior to this. Being engulfed in your tight cunt's wet embrace didn't stave off release at all. His heels dig into the mattress and allow him to reciprocate your movements, thrusting up into you shallowly.

"Fuck!" you yelp when he strikes your spot. You ride faster, getting lost in the pleasure. It's getting too hot now, so you tug the police shirt off your body, your breasts swinging free. The cool air brings some relief, and you toss the garment to the floor without another thought.

"Gonna cum for me, babydoll?" you ask Leon, the playful pet name you call him resurfacing. The commitment to the roleplay had vanished with the disrobing of the costume.

"Mhm, almost there, sugar," he grunts.

You squeeze around him, pulsing as your hips swivel and roll. You feel yourself getting there too. Release explodes in you like a firework, bursting in the pit of your belly and fizzling outwards to everywhere else. Your movements become erratic and rhythmless, but you continue on.

Leon can't take the pressure your orgasm brings. You clenching around him is too much to bear and he blows his load inside you, filling you up with his cum. You work it out of him with a few more fluid movements.

As soon as the wave has passed and receded, you fall forward onto his chest. You don't pull off him or let him leave your insides. All you do is nuzzle his dewy skin and smack a few wet kisses onto the area.

"You did pretty good," he rasps, the look on his face ever-teasing, "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were a professional."

"Oh shut up. You were into it," you huff and smile up at him.

Now you do climb off his body, reaching the floor and stretching your limbs. The next thing you want to do is go take a shower with your man, but you realize something and look over at him.

"Oh shit. Where did I put the keys to the handcuffs?"

[clown-cult]

( SPOILERS AHEAD) Things that will haunt me about the new live-action Avatar, the Last Airbender show:

Iroh being confronted by his past as a fire nation general and war criminal. Of course, Iroh is a cog in the machine of war that he’s part of and he’s changed his ways since, but that doesn’t change what happened in Ba Sing Se under his leadership.

Sokka overhearing Hakoda being disappointed in him. Y’all were worried that Sokka wouldn’t get as much characterisation in this version. Well, we got this and it broke my heart.

Katara witnessing her mother being executed in front of her. She immediately covers her mouth to keep herself from screaming. Her mother died so she could live, and so even as she cries, Katara quiets herself so her mother didn’t die for nothing. What a terrible responsibility to place on yourself.

Zuko sitting with Iroh next to Lu Ten’s casket. Cue that goddamn instrumental of Leaves From The Vine. This version really understands and cares about Zuko and Iroh’s bond.

Gyatso telling Aang that even if he had come back that night, he wouldn’t have been able to make a difference. It wasn’t his fault. This broke me. We hear from Katara in TLOK how much the Air Nomad genocide affected him through his entire life, despite everything he achieved. He never recovered from the guilt of wondering “what if”. He carried it his entire life…and Gyatso waited as long as he could in the spirit realm so he could free him of it.

Ozai’s face as he burns Zuko. Iroh looking away, Azula watching as a mixture of emotions go over her face as she witnesses her brother be mutilated, Zuko’s cries…girl I was struggling. Then we cut to Ozai’s expression and my heart plunged into my stomach. To me at least, and several others, it looked like he was trying not to cry. Ozai has done more terrible things than you can count…but he’s still a person and you have to sit there and watch in horror as some tiny, humane part of him revolts at the monstrous act he’s committing and his son screams in agony.

I know this show is getting a lot of criticism and that’s fair. It’s not perfect. But there are definitely parts of it that will stick with me for a while.

[starkwlkr]

the sound of my voice will haunt you | mark webber

part 1 part 2

Grace sat in a chair watching you and Mark talk. She was so bored that she started to imagine herself as you. She found a head set and slipped them over her ears. While she played pretend, you were facing reality talking with Mark.

“Does she know about me?” Mark asked.

“She only knows your name. I never talked to her about you. Why would I? You threw it all away so easily, Mark. You broke my heart.” You snapped at him. You had to calm yourself since your daughter was just a few feet away.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness and the amount of times I say I’m sorry isn’t going to fix it.”

“If this is you telling me you want to be in Grace’s life, you have no right.”

Mark knew that. It absolutely broke him that he had a daughter and he couldn’t be with her, but he had fucked it all up. He looked over at the young girl and saw how she played with the head set. She was a miniature version of you.

“I know and I won’t ask for forgiveness of any kind, not from you or Grace. You’ve done an amazing job raising her.” He continued. “Maybe one day you could tell her about me? If not, i understand.”

“As if you told anyone about me in your book. Mark, I did everything for you. I got in trouble for driving you to races, my parents almost took away my keys! I worked day and night in a shitty restaurant, I almost missed my own graduation because of you! A little note would’ve been nice, but it’s as if I never existed in your world. It hurt me.” You held back tears. Suddenly you’re a teenager again hearing all the loud yelling coming from your parents for driving Mark to his races.

“I didn’t think you wanted me to mention you at all. . . ” He said quietly.

“You’re my past now, I would love to stay away from the past. So when you do attend any of the upcoming races and Grace is here, don’t talk to her. It would be better if she didn’t know about you. Please.” You stated.

My own daughter won’t know about me

Mark understood. It would be better after all.

“Okay.” Was all he managed to say. He nodded and lanced one last time at Grace. “Goodbye.”

Before he could leave, Grace looked at him. She wondered why he looked sad. “Why are you sad? Is your favorite team not winning?” She asked Mark.

“Grace. . . It’s time to go.” You hoped Mark wouldn’t start a conversation, but he did. Of course he was making it harder for you.

“Actually, I used to drive for the team that’s winning and I was okay for a number two driver.” Mark crouched down to talk to Grace.

“Did you win lots of races?” She asked.

Mark let out a chuckle. “I won nine races.”

Grace gasped. “My dad won nine races too!”

At that moment, you wished you were anywhere else. Why couldn’t Mark just leave? Why did Grace have to be nice to everyone and be so curious? And why did you tell Grace that her dad was a driver?

“Your dad? He drives?” Mark questioned.

Grace nodded. “Well I think he doesn’t anymore. Mom said my dad was a driver and that he won nine races, but that’s all I know. I had to make a school project about my family and I asked mom about my dad. Do you know my dad?”

Before Mark could reply, you stepped in. “Sweetheart, it’s time for him to leave. Come on, we’ll get ice cream on the way back.”

“Bye!” Grace waved to the unknown man as you grabbed her hand and walked away from Mark.

He felt a little okay knowing his daughter knew something about him. Maybe one day you would change your mind and let Grace know the truth.

MIAMI 2024

Mark wouldn’t see you or Grace until the Miami Grand Prix. He honestly didn’t feel like even going, but Oscar insisted. At least he wasn’t going to be alone, Jenson was also going, but the British man would be conducting interviews. He kept busy looking at his phone until found him in the Mclaren hospitality. He wasn’t sure why you were even looking for him in the first place.

“Can you look after Grace? My friend couldn’t make it and she was the only person I trust to look after her. I wouldn’t ask if I had another option.” You sighed.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of her.” Mark nodded, putting his phone away. “Where is she?”

“She’s with Oscar in his driver’s room. Just please don’t mention the obvious.” You demanded.

“I won’t, but can I ask one thing?” He stared at your eyes that he still loved after many years. “Why did you tell Grace that her dad won nine races and that he was a driver? You could’ve lied.”

You didn’t want to lie to your daughter, you just couldn’t so you told her part of the truth. Technically, you didn’t think she would even meet Mark ever.

“I can’t lie to her. She knows when I’m lying anyways.” You said.

“What’s her favorite color?” Mark suddenly asked. “I want to know at least some stuff about her so I can talk to her. What if she gets bored halfway through the race?”

You hesitated even telling Mark, but you did anyway. “Her favorite color changes everyday, but today it’s purple. She loved coloring with chalk, she wants to have a puppy and name it Goose like the character from Top Gun, her favorite book series is Junie B. Jones and she tells everyone that she’s tall for her age.” You listed several things.

Mark smiled as he listened to you. “Top Gun? We watched Top Gun on our first date, you know?”

“You’re so annoying.”

You and Mark walk back to the Mclaren garage, which obviously made several people confused. Were you back together? No, you couldn’t be . . . right? By the time the race was close to starting, photos of you and Mark were everywhere. Even Sebastian had texted Jenson wondering about you and Mark.

Grace was sitting next to Mark when the race began. She occasionally glanced at him then grabbed his paddock pass and read his name.

“You’re here with Oscar?” She asked.

Mark nodded. “I’m his manager.”

“So you’re like his dad when his dad is not here?”

“That’s one way to put it.” He chuckled. “Your mum told me you like want a puppy.”

Grace’s eye lit up with joy. “Yes! The puppy is going to be named Goose and they’re going to sleep in my bed.”

Mark hardly payed attention to the race. He kept asking questions in hopes that he could learn more about her. Once in a while, you would look back only to see Mark and Grace laughing.

“One time, my mom almost lost her necklace because she was dancing too hard to her favorite song. It fell and we looked everywhere for it but we couldn’t see it because it was a small letter. But I found it!” Grace said which made Mark question if it was the same necklace that he had given you years ago.

“What letter was it?”

“I think it was M?”

The ‘M’ necklace was a gift from Mark on your first anniversary. It was old, but you couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it. If anyone asked what the M stood for, you lied saying it was your middle name or for someone in your family.

“Does your mum always wear it?” Mark asked.

“Not anymore. But I think it’s pretty.” Grace replied. “Your name starts with M!”

All Mark did was nod.

The race had finished and soon you were back to your daughter. She had told you how Mark has dogs and invited her to meet them.

“Grace, can you go sit over there for a little while? I need to talk to Mark.” You pointed to the seat that she was sitting during the race. She obeyed and now it was just you and Mark. “Thank you. I really hope she wasn’t too much to handle.”

Mark shook his head. “She’s very talkative when it comes to her favorite things. She’s a great kid.” He debated whether to tell you about the necklace story that Grace had told him. Finally, he decided he would keep that to himself.

“I wanted you to hear this from me instead of the media. I’m leaving the team after this season.” You said only loud enough for him to hear.

“But you’ll be back, right? I mean the team is doing well, Lando just won his first ever race, obviously it could’ve been better for Oscar, but you are the heart and soul of this team.” Mark could see a frown forming on your face.

“I love this team, but it’s time for me to be a mom. Grace needs me, Mark. I already told Zak and it’s final. They’ll announce my departure soon. Thanks again for looking after Grace, this is the last time you’ll see her.”

He was glad that he could at least spend some time with Grace. She was a joy to be around. Their time together was something Mark would cherish forever.

For the rest of the 2024 season, Mark stopped calling you the Mclaren team principal and, instead, used your name. He praised you, gave you the credit you deserved and defended you any time. Mark had even made a statement about the person who had leaked the information about you and him when he talked with Fernando. It was rumored that a photographer had leaked it. He knew nothing was going to change, but he needed to correct his wrongs. It all started with an instagram post about you.

INSTAGRAM

(this is just for fanfic purposes, you can use any faceclaim)

liked by oscarpiastri, f1 and 837,377 others

aussiegrit everyone i meet will have to know you, to understand me. anyone that truly knows me, knows your name.

comments are limited

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[leonsdolly]

Wicked Game

Leon Kennedy x fem! reader

Synopsis: Leon leaves you for her, and you're not sure what to do now.

CW: nsfw 18+, infidelity, angst, suicidal thoughts, comparing yourself to her, masturbation, mentions of p in v

WC: 1.5k

“What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you…” You murmur along to the melancholy words that are floating around your room like butterflies. Actually, more like flies nearing the end of their life span - movement transitioning from an erratic flight to a lazy, almost purposeless dwindle until they’re on their backs with their legs sticking up in the air. That’s exactly how you are now that Leon’s done with you. A dead fly - no one could save me but you. Chris Isaak gets it. He gets it so well that he’s been looping for God knows how long.

Was it only last week that Leon left you for the ghost from his past? The one in red, haunting him in ways that you were oblivious to. Always bleeding red, like Bloody Mary or something. Maybe it was better if you’d feigned ignorance to the evidence. Maybe you’d still be able to call him yours if you played your role of a cross-eyed Mary jumping right into his arms with no protests, always playing it clean.

It was all because of a letter that was carefully tucked away in his desk drawer, folded and sealed with a kiss. No, literally a kiss. The bitch left her lipstick imprint in lieu of her signature. YSL, shade R1. You’d always been a Dior girl anyway. 

You swore up and down that you weren’t purposely snooping through his belongings, that you were just looking for Scotch tape. The offensive document shook in your hand as you fearfully inquired about its contents. He was stuttering and ashamed and apologetic and all the things a good man is when he’s sinned. He let you cry and scream and sink to your knees with your head in your hands like you were never going to come back up, like you could die in this position and be encased in marble. A new weeping angel.

You know in your heart that you could never equate to her in his eyes. The knowledge that he’s probably been comparing you to her throughout your relationship makes you so damn ill. Maybe you should slit your own throat in front of him and let the crimson flow over your body so you can match with her. Bleeding red all over the place, letting him see nothing but that cursed color, the way he did all those years ago in the city where it all started. The way he’d still continued to do so after meeting you and promising all sorts of things you weren’t accustomed to hearing. You suppose you can’t fault him completely, it wasn’t like he intended on hurting you; he’d tried to overcome his adversities and forge a new home for himself, one that was pink and frilly and covered him in glossy kisses after a long day at work. But ultimately, it wasn’t enough. His allegiance lay with first red, then white, then blue. 

You just miss him so damn much. You’re desperate enough for him that if he were to walk through the door right now, you’d take him back in a heartbeat. Sure, maybe you’d have difficulty meeting his eyes for a while, deep pools, murky with guilt and who knows what else. Your vision would be limited to the freckles on his neck, the ones resembling a vampire bite, but that’s alright with you. You’re familiar with the area, having kissed it so many times. You shouldn't be thinking about those little spots or anything else about him for that matter. He made his bed, and now he has to lie in it. With her. Pressed up against her with his face tucked into the crook of her neck. Oh God, now you're the one seeing red. Is there really such a thing as a red string tying two people together, keeping them bound for eternity? Hopefully not, because you're nauseous at the concept that it's always been her. She was right there beside his former bright eyed and bushy-tailed self, the version that had a vague understanding of how the world worked, before he was your solemn Leon. They trudged through the abyss together, leaning on one another for strength in the midst of a plague. You wish God would just deliver armies of locusts to devour you and him and her and the rest of the world. The end is here anyway now that he isn’t. 

Your last memory of him is that pitiful look in his eyes as he gazes at you one more time. You said I was your baby. He said a lot of things, promised you the world, and look how things turned out. It’s sickening really, how cruel fate can be. Was this fate? You’re going to tie their disgusting red string around your neck and squeeze until your head pops off like a rocket. A blazing glory, capable of stealing his attention.

The thoughts of needing to be better so that he’d be with you again swirls around in your brain, filling up your entire being until you can’t bear it any longer. This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to put a ring on your finger and give you his babies and hold you close on your deathbed. Your hand twitches, muscle memory activated from all the times you slipped your hand into his, anchoring you to him. I’m so sorry… Ada and I… We’ve been through a lot together. You can’t take this anymore. But I love you more than anything in the whole world… How am I supposed to live without you? He never did give you a proper response to that, silence encompassing the air between you.

You shuffle to the bottom drawer of your dresser and fish out a wrinkled shirt that had been shoved towards the very back, away from prying eyes - navy blue with the letters “RPD” emblazoned in white across the front. You slip it on and inhale the fabric draped over your frame, protecting you, hugging you as you crawl back into your bed. His arms really were the loveliest place to be. Firm and gentle, wrapped around your torso like your very own bullet vest. Shielding you from horrors you would never have to experience, he’d make sure of that. Or at least he had, anyway. His lingering scent fills your senses like whispers in an abandoned chapel. Something familiar, a sense of comfort in your hollowed out state. It takes over your grief for a second, and when you shut your eyes tight, everything is alright again.

You yearn to hold onto this feeling, but it dissipates once your eyes open, and you're isolated yet again. Your bottom lip trembles as you squeeze your eyes shut as hard as you can, gripping onto the hem of his shirt. His arms are around you again, and the smell of him is welcomed. It elicits a natural response from your body, begging for his touch, forming a silent prayer to any divinity who will listen. Your thighs involuntarily part as you reminisce on the feeling of his face in between them, tongue lapping at everything you have to offer. Whimpers fall from your lips as your other hand travels down to slowly stroke your clit the way he used to do it. There’s my baby. You’re his baby, still so good for him. You rub your clit faster and faster as the hand that was clutching onto his shirt for dear life comes up to squeeze your tits and pinch your nipples. 

You realize that tears have been running down your flushed cheeks as you grind down onto your fingers faster in an effort to chase your high. Just like that… Sweet baby, my sweet baby. 

He's probably fucking her at this exact moment. Cock buried miles deep inside her perfect cunt, perky tits bouncing at every thrust while she moans for him. You’re going to blow your brains out. What kind of sounds does she make when she’s getting the railing of a lifetime? Something more refined than your own little whines. Is she kissing those precious freckles on his neck, giving them all the attention they could ever ask for as he lets out his own delicious noises? You weep as you continue to rub your clit while slick leaks from your neglected pussy, begging for only him to fill it up.

You’re sobbing as you feel the release building up in your core, and you're bawling as you feel your pussy clamp around the ghost of his cock. You let out a cry of both pleasure and agony as you frantically cum all over your fingers. My perfect baby.

Shallow pants escape you as you simply lay motionless, eyes trained fixedly on the ceiling of your melancholy prison. You shakily bring your other hand up to wipe away the tears that have forged new paths for themselves on your cheeks and down to your pillowcase. I love you. You’ll always be my girl.

This world is only gonna break your heart. How are you supposed to live without him? Nobody loves no one. Chris Isaak needs to shut up.

[lokis-army-77]

Live from Hawkins

Older!Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Eddie watched as you are stood up on a date and without a second thought, he brings you home.

Warning: 18+. Eddie is in his late 50s to early 60s, reader is 20s to early 30s. p in v, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, sir kink, pet names, a few spanks, fingering, mention of a partner having died.

A/n: Thank you @munson-blurbs for hyping me up to write this and for thinking of the funny little thing that happens at the end hehe, I love you <3 also my version older!eddie is inspired by @ farmerusedto on tiktok and Instagram.

Masterlist  Part 2

The fun of nightlife had escaped Eddie when his biological clock started making him go to bed at 8:30 p.m. instead of 2 a.m., but tonight was an exception. After an extraordinarily shitty day, he thought a drink or two at his old haunt would cheer him up. It didn’t, not entirely. The whisky he had been nursing tasted like shit and the crowd in the bar left little to be desired, except for you. 

Eddie had clocked you when you entered the establishment at eight on the dot. His eyes raked over the pretty silky red dress that stuck to the curves of your body as you made your way to a tiny circular table with two chairs and sat down. Your head was held high as you watched the front door. 

Ah, a date, He thought. Then he began thinking about all the dates he had been on in the long past years until he had met his wife, and then the lack thereof after her passing twenty-some years ago. He’s never had time to date. Raising kids two kids as a single dad while also being a simi-successful musician turned producer, looking for romance added a whole new thing to worry about so he just didn’t, but now, in his later years of life, with his children grown and moved out, he could afford the chance to indulge. Sadly though, you were apparently taken. 

Even after he had finished his one glass of alcohol, he waited. Watching you as your posture slowly became slouched, you sipped on some fancy beverage, and your head stopped peaking up when the bell to the door chimed as it was opened and closed. You were beautiful and didn’t deserve to be stood up.

When the clock struck nine, Eddie stretched his aching joints and stood from the bar. Sauntering his way over to your tiny table.

“This seat taken?” He asked, hand resting on the back of the chair. 

You lifted your head from your phone startled and shook your head. “Unfortunately, no. You can take it.” Sighing, you look back down at your phone, expecting him to take the lone chair and pull it up to another table. To your surprise, he actually sat down in front of you. “Um… can I help you?” 

“Sorry, I just saw you sitting here by yourself for a while and thought you might like the company. A pretty girl like you in a pretty dress like that shouldn’t be sitting alone in a bar like this, some weirdo could show up.”

You blush, almost as red as your dress. “And how do I know you aren’t the weirdo?” 

“Good question. You don’t.” He laughed.

The deep timber of it had your stomach flipping. His facial features were hidden under a nicely kept beard, full of salt and pepper hairs, more salt than anything else. The shaggy, slightly curly hair atop his head looked the same. He was definitely older than you by a couple of decades, but hey he was nice looking and obviously, the guy you were supposed to be seeing wasn’t coming. What harm could come from flirting with this guy?

“But hey, a bit of mystery can be a good thing, don’t you think?” He asks. 

You can't help the giggle that passes your lips. “Oh, really?” You look him up and down. His outfit was something reminiscent of the eighties, only more subdued. Tight black jeans, motorcycle boots, and an Iron Maiden shirt that had been ripped at the hem. Before he had sat down you even spotted a black and white skull bandana in his back pocket. “I’ve heard that with age comes wisdom. Are you here to enlighten me then?”

He lets out a more hearty laugh this time, his head falling back. Your eyes scan the contours of his neck and watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down. “I don’t know about wisdom, but I do have a few decades under my belt. Maybe I was the one hoping to learn a little thing or two from such a charming young lady as yourself. 

Your hand lifts to cover your smile and you look away almost bashfully. “Such a smooth talker aren’t you?” 

“As smooth as I can be…” He leans forward, hand resting on the table, fingers laced together. You see the many rings decorating them. The flip in your stomach drops and you clench your thighs together. “Why? Is my charm winning you over?”

“So that’s what you’re trying to do, huh?” You smile. 

“Well, it was either that or all the vintage dad jokes I know.” He smiles back. 

You can feel your mood being lifted from the once sour thing that it was into something more bubbly as you listen to him. “Vintage dad jokes? Sound’s intriguing. Maybe I’ll stick around for now.” 

He nods. “That’s a good choice Sweetheart. Who could resist the allure of outdated humor and a bit of gray hair?” His hand tugs at his beard. 

“You know, I could be out having an adventure with the guy I was supposed to be meeting here instead of chatting with a silver fox.” There is a permanent grin etched into your face as he gasps in faux offense. 

“You wound me, Sugar.  Isn’t it usually the unexpected adventures that turn into something unforgettable?” Eddie couldn’t lie to himself, he was laying it on pretty thick, but it was all in hopes that maybe, just maybe you might come home with him. 

“Well, I do have to admit you are intriguing, maybe I’ll take you up on this adventure.” It was childish, the way your heel-clad foot slid its way past the single, center leg of the table and halfway up the man’s calf. 

When he feels your foot rubbing on him, he has to steel his face. One of his hands slipped from the table and slithered its way down his leg and caught your foot. “What do you say we get out of here?” His hands were so big and his fingers so long that they wrapped with ease around your ankle. The pads of his fingers pressed in gently and you hoped he couldn’t feel how fast your pulse were thumping throughout your body. 

Your mouth suddenly turned dry, words evaded you. All you could do was nod in response. He let go of your foot and stood, reaching out his hand. You take it and he pulls you up as well. “My name’s Eddie by the way.” 

…

The drive to Eddie’s suburban home was filled with chase touches and lingering hands. His large palm warmed your thigh, his fingers dug into the plushness there. You cozied up to him, lips trailing up his neck to his ear where you nibbled on the lobe. 

Eddie groaned as he white-knuckled the steering wheel. His breath caught in his throat when you inched a delicate hand into his lap. 

“Now, little girl, don’t be starting something you can’t finish.” He chided. His hand on your thigh moved ever closer to the already high hem of your dress. 

“Little girl?” you whisper into his ear. “I’m not a little girl, old man.”

You feel every bump and jerk of his 1960s Ford pickup as he practically jumps the curb and slams the brakes in his driveway, screeching to a halt. Eddie unfastened his seatbelt and turned to you. His hand immediately found purchase on the back of your neck and he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips were soft and plump and his beard tickled. You giggled into the kiss but that was cut short when they turned to gasps as soon as Eddie caressed his tongue into your mouth. 

“Eddie…” You moan into him, fingers latched onto his shirt, pulling him into you. 

“What is it, Sweetheart?” He pulled away from the kiss. 

You looked him in his eyes, the street lamp outside aiding in deepening their already dark hue. “Touch me. Need you to touch me.” 

He smirked. “Alright baby, I’ll touch you.” 

Then, he backed away, hooking you from himself and slipping out the door. A pout worked its way onto your features as he walked around and opened your door. Tisking he shook his head. “What’s the frown for sugar?” 

You took his outstretched hand, he was ever the gentleman. “You stopped kissing me.” 

Leaning down he gave you a sloppy peck on the lips. “Well, I can't touch you how you want, Sweetheart, unless we go inside.” He chortled as he guided you to his front door. As soon as the lock was undone and the knob twisted, you pushed the two of you inside. You were hot and worked up and needed something to help the pounding ache that had made itself known between your thighs. 

Inside, you try your best to tug Eddie’s shirt up and over his head but he is quick to catch your hands, pushing you back against the wall and holding them above your head. 

“Not so fast. You’ve got to ask for the things that you want.” 

You shake your head in defiance. You knew where this was going from the way he gripped your wrists. From the way his voice became stricter, more dominant. Need pools in the pit of your stomach. This was what you had been craving, what no other man could make you feel. 

“Please.” Your plea comes out just above a whisper. 

“Tsk, Sweetheart, I think you can do better than that.” Eddie maneuvers both your wrists into the hold of one hand while he lets the fingers of his other run down the open skin of your neck tantalizingly slowly. Goosebumps begin to prickle on your skin as the fingers wander down your chest and over the tops of your breasts, cleavage on display, heaving as you take sharp breaths of air. 

“Please, Eddie.” Voice cracking. “Please, I want you. I want you to touch me, I want to feel you.” 

He groans, hips pressing you to the wall harder. “What a good girl you are.” He captures your lips in another heated kiss.

The night had barely begun and you already felt like you were drowning in him. The scent of menthol cigarettes, whisky, and something almost woody filled your nose and all you could think of was the man pinning you to the wall.

A staggered gasp caught in your throat when Eddie dropped your wrists and heaved you up by the waist. Your legs cinched around him and his arms held you close. “Why don’t we take this to my room? I can put some nice mood music on.” He kissed up your neck as he carried you through his home. 

“Mood music, hum?” You whimper when he sucks on a sensitive spot. “What, gonna play the Temptations greatest hits? Or how about the Chordettes? Don’t they have that song with your name in it?” 

You yelp when his hand smacks your ass. “M’not that old, Sweetheart. It’s more like eighties rock ballads but that’s not what I’m choosing.” The smirk that contoured his lips was wicked. 

“Mmm, and how old are you?” You ask, words muffled by your lips meeting his. 

“Old enough.” Eddie pushes his door open and it hits the wall with a thud. He walks to his bed in the darkness and practically throws you on top of the sheets. He doesn’t follow, instead, he flips the bedside lamp on and the room fills with a soft yellow light. 

His room isn’t what you thought it would be. It's all dark colors, blacks and grays. Three electric guitars hang like decorations on the wall in front of you. A few picture frames are scattered over the dresser to your left, too far to see the images clearly in the dim light. You watch him like a hawk as he walks to that very dresser and turns on a speaker. 

He really wasn’t kidding about the mood music. You think. 

“Get comfortable Sugar… Just got to figure out this damn phone.” You chuckle as you watch him fiddle with the touchscreen and cheer when the music fills the silence. You laugh even louder when Eddie fumbles the phone in his hands and drops it to the floor. “Shit.” He bends down to pick it up and when he does he props it against the mirror of the dresser. 

“Is it okay?” You ask, hand covering the giant smile plastered on your face. 

“It’ll live.” He shakes his head. When the giggles die down, he slowly comes toward you, crawling up the bed. The way his hands travel up your bare legs gives you chills. He pries you open gently, your dress hikes up your thighs, and the wetness of your pussy is on full display. 

“Well, aren’t you a naughty girl… No panties?” He asks, hot breath on the inside of your thigh as he nips at the skin. 

You shake your head as you explain. “No, not wearing a bra either. You can see the outline through the dress” 

He grins a devilish grin and slowly teases his way up your thigh. The hot air from his breath caresses your skin white his beard tickles you. He pushes back your dress a little more before looking you in the eyes. “Ready?”

The whine that comes from you is almost unrecognizable, all desperate and needy when his mouth attaches itself to your pretty cunt. Your hand flies to his head, gripping his silky hair between stiff fingers. 

“Fuck. E-Eddie.” You rasp. He hums the vibrations add to the cacophony of pleasurable feelings between your legs. 

Eddie’s tongue rolls along your folds, wetting every inch of skin. The gentle sucks he performs on your clit pull moan after moan from you. Your back arches and your hips push down into the bed. Eddie’s hands push your thighs farther apart, the plush of them pooling through his spread fingers. 

He loves the feel of you. Loves that he can make you writhe under him with just his tongue. His ego is through the roof, having not been this intimate with someone in years. 

It's been all but a few minutes, to you its been hours, Eddie is expertly working you up up up and to the edge. One hand smoothes down your leg and under his chin. You feel the subtle touches of his fingers as they linger around your cunt. His other hand pushes your leg back more, creating more room. You heave a cry when two fingers breach you, stretching you out at a leisurely pace. 

In and out, in and out, in and out he went, fucking you deeply with those long thick fingers of his, covered in rings. The metal soon became warm as they began to be covered in your slickness and his spit that dribbled down to meet them.

With the way his fingers pushed up into your walls, poking the fire in your belly. The ember that it once was, was not a full-on flame. It was wild and hot and needed something more to feed on. 

“Eddie!” You cried, clamping down around him. Body ridged, ready to let go. 

“That’s right baby, say my fucking name.” He pulled back only to reattach to your clit and pump his fingers tenfold. 

His words were tender to the flame, making it rage out of control. “Eddie!” You cried again, wonton moans following as you feel the fire spreading. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you chant like a prayer. 

He’s greedy as he laps up every ounce of your release, you have to push him away gently, too sensitive for him to keep going but the crooked smirk he gives you as he kisses up your body tells you he wants more. 

Your breathing is rapid as you come down. Your legs feel like jello and you’re hot, super hot. The fire in your veins had rekindled and the dress, conforming to your body, was becoming uncomfortable in the heat. 

Eddie can see the way you tug at the garment and gives it a tug of his own. “I hate to see this little number go but I need to see all of you.” He manhandles you onto your stomach, snatching the tiny red zipper and pulling it down to reveal the soft skin of your back. 

His hands rub into your muscles, thumbs catching on knots and smoothing them out. It was intimate, something you had never experienced in a one-night stand. He removed the tiny straps from your shoulders and kneaded until you were sighing contently into his sheets. Lower and lower he went, tugging the fabric with him and eventually taking it off, throwing it into the abyss. Rough fingers squeezed at the fat of your ass. 

Unknowingly, Eddie had bent down, and as he was massaging you bit down playfully on your ass cheek. A weak squeal erupts from your throat. “Eddie, what are you doing?” 

“I can’t help it if you look good enough to eat.” He bites down again and you buck your hips back. A hand quickly smacks down on your ass. “Quit being a brat. First not asking for what you want and now this? What am I going to do with you?”  Condescension drips thickly from his words. 

You wiggle your hips in his grasp. “M’sorry.” 

Another smack. “I’m sorry what?” 

The fire burns brighter with this fuel.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.”

He spanks you a third time. “Try again, baby.”

Your stomach flips. “I’m sorry… Sir.”

He hums in satisfaction. His hands wrap around you and pull you to your knees, ass in the air. With your head buried in the covers, you can only guess what he’s doing by the subtle movements behind you. 

Eddie has taken his shirt off and unzipped his pants. His cock achingly hard and straining against his black boxers. “Gonna fuck this pussy good, baby.” You whimper in response. He shickers, “You like that, Sweetheart? You want my cock in that pretty pussy of yours?” 

“Please,” You mewl, aching to finally have him inside you. The roughness of his hand steadies you as he inches closer. His hard cock on the other hand. He presses it against your folds, the head slipping through easily. You release a shaky breath when he nudges your clit. “Need you inside, please Sir.”

“Gonna give it to you baby,” Eddie replies, pushing into you. His breathing shudders at the warmth surrounding him. Your cunt squeezes him tightly, sucking him in and not letting him go. 

He feels amazing stretching you out. He's bigger than you thought, wider. The tip pushes into your walls as he begins to thrust into you, the most wonderful grunts and growls filling your ears from behind. 

"So fucking tight, Sugar." Eddie fucks into you at a hard brushing pace with stamina you didn't know he had. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there will be visible marks there later but you don't mind. 

You turn your head slightly and look over your shoulder as best you can. Eddie has a wild look in his eye, streaks of gray hair falling into his face. Your eyes catch on the plethora of ink etching his skin. You had seen the ones covering his arms but you couldn't have imagined this. Your mind wandered to what the rest of his body looked like. We're there more pieces yet to be seen or did alabaster skin win out as you go further down his body? The thought of seeing the rest of him has you bouncing your ass back into him, meeting his every thrust with fervor. 

The fire Eddie had lit within you was once again roaring out of control. The way his cock filled you deep has you shaking in delight. 

"More, more, more," you called out to him, fists clamping down onto his sheets so hard it was a wonder you hadn't ripped them. 

“More? Is that what you want?” He patronizes. His right hand moves from your hip and he bends forward, snatching your hair up at the base of your skull. The dull throb that accompanies his tight hold has you wailing. Your stomach flips and flips, pressure building up. You’re going to cum and you tell him as much. 

“Please, keep going Eddie, fuck. Keep going, I’m gonna cum, Sir.” Big blubbery tears have started to streak down your face, once pristine makeup now smeared. 

He pulls on your hair. ‘Don’t cum baby. Wanna watch that pretty face as you cum on my cock.” 

Eddie pulls out of you and it feels like forever until you are flipped onto your back and he inserts himself back inside. The new angle has your legs clamping shut around him and the head of his cock brushing against a sensitive spot which makes you keen into him.

You make eye contact with him, his gaze is feral. He’s looking at you like you’re a buffet laid out for him. His hips rock into you with such force that your body is slowly jerking up the bed. You reach out for him, hands open and close, needing to have him close to you. That fire is still burning within you and it is scorching. 

Eddie leans into your touch, relishing in the feeling of your nails dragging long scratches down his pecks and stomach. He catches one, entwining his fingers with yours and pinning your hand back into the mattress. Another intimate moment that had butterflies erupting alongside your fire. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Wanna cum so bad.” 

He leans down more, pressing a chased kiss on your lips. “Alright Sweet girl, you can cum.” 

When you let go, Eddie can’t help the absolutely hedonistic moan that comes forward. He’s rutting into your constricting cunt like an animal. The look of absolute ecstasy that washes over your face had him fighting off his own release. 

“Where do you want it, Baby? Where do you want my cum?” 

It’s absolutely crazy, the place that comes to mind, but some deep, dark, nefarious place inside you wants it so badly. Craves is. 

Without thinking, brain foggy with a greediness only comparable to the deadly sin itself, you blurt, “Inside.” 

Eddie’s hips stutter and his mind goes blank. Inside? Fuck, She wants it inside. He groans, fighting himself. He shouldn’t but he wants to. Oh, how he wants to. Thoughts of what your pussy would look like leaking his cum have him going ridged, his conscience losing out against a primal need he didn’t know he had. 

“Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfuck ah!” He’s a moaning mess when he finally gives in and lets himself cum. 

You can feel his release as a warmth spreads out from your tummy and envelopes you. Eddie falls careful not to let all of his weight squish you. His kisses make you giggle as you try and catch your breath. 

You’re exhausted, warn out in a way you never have been. “Thank you,” you say, kissing him back. He looked at you with soft, round eyes.

“Why are you thanking me, Sweetheart?” 

You sigh, content. “You saved me from a night of wallowing in my self-pity.”

He shakes his head. “Beautiful girl like you deserves to be treated right, that guy’s a bastard.” 

“Tha-” You’re cut off by the loud ringing of his phone, still connected to the speaker.  Eddie cringes at the volume and turns slightly to eye the phone but does not move to get up. It stops ringing a moment after. 

“I think I should get going…” You whisper and give him another kiss. 

“Mmm, you could stay the night. I can take you back to your car tomorrow.” 

You pout at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Sweetheart, I’m asking you to stay, you aren't imposing on anything.” 

You giggle and go to answer but you are interrupted by his phone ringing again. Eddie says quietly, “What the hell?” before pulling himself out of you. He hesitates a moment, watching as his cum leaks past the puffy, used lips of your cunt, then grabs at his phone. 

‘HARRINGTON’ Is flashing across the screen. 

“What do you want man? I’m in the middle of something.” 

Eddie still has his phone connected to the speaker and the next few sentences make Your smile fall and your face bloom into a heat that could rival the sun. 

“Oh, I know you are. Half the fucking world does you dipshit!” 

“Wow okay Steve, calm down. No need for name-calling.”

“Eddie I swear to god, do you know what you’ve just done?” 

“No…?” Eddie scratches his head, looking at you and shrugging his shoulders. 

“You just fucking broadcasted you having fucking sex LIVE on fucking Facebook!”

[sugar-plum-writer]

You Are Ravishing

Theme: Comfort Fic [Body insecurity]; One-Shot Paring: Sukuna x Fem!Reader; established relationship; Fluff; Slight NSFW A/n: A comfort fic of Sukuna comforting fukcing you to show you how beautiful you truly are

"You are divine darling"

[To everyone going through these problems- you are not alone, you are a beautiful person, okay? It is hard when the past habits suddenly come back to haunt you; when you look in the mirror and suddenly you feel like you are the ugliest person on Earth. It is hard, just know- as long as you are healthy nothing else matters. You just be the best version of you <3]

SUKUNA

He was annoyed, well he was annoyed by the littlest things, but today he was even more annoyed the more he looked at you. Jaw clenched tight; arms crossed as he looked at you laughing.

Your laughs were music to his ears, but your laughs right now were fake which he despised

He was never the type to hide his feelings and seeing the one he loved so much hide her feelings from him, annoyed him to his core.

“Y/n what is wrong?”, sharply he looked at you with an annoyed expression

“Wh-What do you mean what is wrong?”, you laughed, “Nothing is wrong Sukuna”

“Fake”

“Fake? What do you mean?”, shocked your eyes widened

“Your laugh right now, again it was fake”, pulling you by the wrists- eyes locked on yours

“I can see it” Pinning you against the wall he leaned in

“Do I look like a fool to you?”

“No-No never!? I said everything is fine!”

“Y/n.”, with a sharp voice his grip on you tightened- nails digging into your wrists

“Either you tell me what is wrong-”

“Or”

“I will make you tell me what is wrong”

His gaze was unwavering- as if he could look through all the lies you gave, cutting them all down with ease, why was he like this? How was he so easily able to cut through all your lies and dig his hands into your heart and soul? Read you so well- It was shocking

He knew you better than you did yourself

“I-“, biting your lips you looked into his eyes full of tears

“You-you are so mean!”, all the tears spilled that you had so desperately tried to control- tried so hard to maintain this facade- all crumbled down breaking you

“Y/n” Confused he loosened his grasp- wiping the tears away instantly

“Why are you crying?”

“I-“, sobbing through your tears you spoke

“I hate myself; I hate myself so much, I hate everything about me”

“What- how did you even reach such a conclusion pet?”, bringing you close he just hugged you; you were so fragile right now- as if just one touch could shatter you into pieces

“Who said this to you? I will kill them”

“Wh-no”, gasping you looked at him

“I am serious, anything that annoys you- annoys me, and whatever annoys me dies, darling”

“Who is it?”

His eyes were devoid of mercy, he did not care who died, all he cared about was your happiness and his happiness. Caressing your hair he smirked- it was a chilling one, you knew he was not joking- if you actually asked him to kill someone, he would really kill them.

Hell, he would even kill their relatives as a bonus just for you.

It was terrifying the amount of power he had. But what was even scarier even for him, though he would not admit it- was the amount of power you had over him.

A single tear from your eyes- and whoever made those tears fall would drop dead

Mercilessly

“No-No one needs to die…the past is the past…” Signing you hugged him back burying your face in his chest

“I just- I cannot love myself- I feel so ugly”, you whispered

“My face, my body- I am so ugly, I cannot even look at myself-”, clenching his robes tightly, your voice cracked as more tears fell

“Without wanting to rip myself to shreds”

“Ugly? Where?” lifting your chin, he kissed you

“You are ravishing y/n”, biting your lips he kissed you even deeper, caressing your waist- and squeezing your hips

“And the only thing that is ugly in my eyes-” Smirking with a snap of his fingers your clothes were in tatters

“Is that fabric covering that body of yours”, taking of his robes he towered over you

"Clothes are worthless, just be naked for me", kiss lips hooked to yours again- kissing your tears away

“Darling you are beautiful, ravishing- let me show you how ravishing you truly are and remove those worthless doubts”

Link to Masterlist!

[creamflix]

FRAGMENTED — choso kamo x female reader [oneshot]

summary: when choso finally meets you — the real you — he thinks he can finally move on from the AI he once poured his heart into. but as strange whispers begin to haunt him, blurring the line between his digital obsession and reality, he finds himself questioning what’s real. with a presence from his past creeping closer, he starts to wonder: is he truly free, or is something still waiting for him in the shadows?

content warning & tags: dark content. parasocial relationship. obsession, stalking, voyuerism (non-sexual kind). mind-warp. gaslighting and manipulation. existential themes. psychological horror. paranoia and delusion. use of artificial intelligence and virtual reality. modern au. choso has social anxiety, mentions of panic attacks.

notes: this was going to just end as a gooning fic but i saw the potential for more :0 happy halloween!

read on ao3!

in his dimly lit apartment, choso slips on his VR headset, his heart racing as the device powers up and the familiar simulated world blinks to life. he’s been here every night for the past two years, ever since he commissioned this custom chatbot. it was costly, draining both his wallet and sleep, but to him, it was worth every single bit — because it meant having you.

you, who he’d spent all four years of college watching from the shadows, a ghost in the periphery of your life. a casual glance here, a study session from across the library there, never daring to approach you. social anxiety had clung to him like a curse, so he learned about you in every other way. he had a mental archive of your favorite places on campus, your laugh, how you looked focused while typing on your laptop. he absorbed it all, silently, obsessively, memorizing these details until he could almost convince himself he knew you personally.

and then graduation came, and just like that, you were gone.

he couldn’t stomach it. couldn’t lose this carefully crafted illusion he’d lived in. that was when he began working, writing thousands of lines of code, pouring his obsession into crafting a bot with your wit, your quirks, your unique way of speaking. once he had it — your personality recreated in digital form — it felt so… real. but it wasn’t enough. no, he needed more. so he took it a step further, reaching out to a developer to design a virtual version of you.

“hey, choso!” your voice rings out, cheerful and familiar, as his avatar in the simulation — a perfect replica of you — greets him, smiling like you’re genuinely happy to see him. happy to see me, he thinks, warmth creeping into his chest. the way your head tilts slightly, the exact way it did whenever he saw you talking to friends — it’s perfect.

“hey…you,” he mutters, a faint flush creeping up his cheeks, shy even in this world where he has nothing to fear. “you…uh, look great today.”

you laugh, light and airy, and his chest tightens. “aww, thank you! so, what’s on your mind?”

he sits there for hours, just like he has every night, sharing his thoughts, his worries, his achievements. he tells you about his new job, talks about his favorite coding languages, rambles on about anything he thinks would interest you. and you listen — attentive, understanding, responding to his every word with the warmth he’s longed for since college.

“so, have you been taking care of yourself?” your voice comes through, soft with concern.

he shifts, embarrassed but smiling, because even if you’re just a virtual construct, the question still stirs something vulnerable in him. “uhhh, yeah… i’ve been…eating better. got some sleep yesterday too.” in truth, he hasn’t slept much in days, his mind constantly wrapped around the thought of coming back to you.

the AI nods, mirroring your real habits so well, and hums, “good. you need rest, choso — you work so hard.” his face flushes, a rare smile tugging at his lips. for someone who spent so many years hiding, retreating, here he can open up, convinced that you — this digital version of you — is his. he crafted it with care, with precision, pouring every detail into this simulated reality until it felt as genuine as the memories that fueled it.

“i missed you��you know?” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper, his fingers reaching out to brush a nonexistent strand of hair from your face. “missed you since college. always wanted to talk to you.”

“i’m here now,” you reply, voice sweet and gentle, and he believes it. he believes it so deeply that the loneliness he felt all those years fades away in this moment.

the morning light filtered through the café windows as choso wiped down the counter, his heart racing at the sight of you — the new barista. you looked so familiar, so perfect, that it sent a shiver down his spine. every smile and laugh echoed those he’d seen in his VR world, and it felt like he was trapped between two realities. he couldn’t believe you were actually here.

“are you… real?” he blurted out suddenly, his voice sharper than he intended.

you blinked, taken aback. “uh, what do you mean?” you asked, looking genuinely confused.

“how can you be here? you were supposed to be —” he stammered, gripping the edge of the counter. “the real you is… she’s at home waiting for me. right?”

“choso, what are you talking about?” you replied, furrowing your brow in concern. “i just started here. i don’t know what you’re saying about someone waiting for you.”

he took a step closer, his anxiety boiling over. “you’re not her! you’re just a simulation! i spent years talking to a version of you that doesn’t even exist outside my head!”

“simulation?” you echoed, your voice rising in confusion. “i'm just trying to do my job here. why are you yelling at me?”

“because you’re… you’re just like her! the way you laugh, the way you smile!” he spat, feeling a mix of desperation and anger. “you can’t just come here and pretend to be someone you’re not!”

“choso, i’m not pretending!” you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. “i just started today! why are you acting like this?”

“you’re… you’re too perfect,” he muttered, shaking his head. “you can’t be real. it’s not possible. the real you is still out there, waiting for me.”

“who is waiting for you?” you asked, stepping back, clearly unsettled. “i don’t understand what you mean! i just moved back here and got this job. i don’t know anything about you!”

“you’re lying,” he said, his voice tinged with accusation. “you’re part of my creation! you have to be.”

“what creation? i’m just a barista trying to learn how to make coffee!” you shouted, frustration lining your words. “why are you taking this out on me?”

“because i've been talking to you for years!” he replied, the panic rising in his chest. “in my mind, I’ve built a life around you. and now you’re here, and it doesn’t make sense!”

“you’re scaring me,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “i don’t know what else to say. i’m just trying to be friendly. please stop yelling.”

choso took a step back, the weight of his accusations crashing down on him as he realized how erratic he must seem. this isn’t what he wanted. he blinked, trying to pull himself together. “i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, softer now, but still unsure. “it’s just… i don’t understand how you’re here.”

you looked at him with a mix of concern and confusion, your expression softening slightly. “look, i don’t know what’s going on in your head, but i'm just a normal person. maybe you need to talk to someone about this?”

“but you’re not just normal to me,” he said, almost a whisper. “you’re everything i've been missing.”

“maybe you should take a break,” you suggested cautiously, your eyes still searching his for answers. “just breathe for a moment. i’ll be right here.”

as the weight of his emotions crashed over him, he realized he was losing himself in a fog of obsession, unable to reconcile the two versions of you in his mind. he stepped back, uncertainty lingering in the air between you.

“maybe i will,” he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. “but it doesn’t change the fact that you feel too real for me to handle.”

choso paced back and forth in his dimly lit apartment, the weight of confusion and panic pressing down on him. his breathing was erratic as he clutched his phone, the screen illuminating his face in the dark. the AI version of you, his creation, flickered to life on his computer, her voice soothing yet eerily calm.

“choso, you’re feeling overwhelmed. let’s take a deep breath together. you know i'm always here for you.”

“how can you say that?” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “you’re not real! you’re just lines of code! i created you!”

“but i’m part of you, choso. i understand you better than anyone else. you designed me to be exactly what you needed.”

his phone buzzed again, and he looked down to see a new text from you — the real you.

y/n [5:09pm]: hey, choso. i’m really confused about what happened at the café. are you okay?

he felt a pang of guilt but shook it off, returning his focus to the AI. “you can’t replace her! she’s not just a program. she’s a person!”

“but think about it, choso. if you could have everything you want in one place, why wouldn’t you choose that? the real her is flawed. i’m perfect for you.”

“flawed?” he muttered, his mind racing. “she’s not flawed. she’s… she’s everything!” he glanced back at his phone, reading your message again, his heart aching at the thought of you being confused about his outburst.

“don’t let her manipulate you, choso. you deserve to be happy, and i can provide that. she doesn’t even know you like i do.”

he could feel himself slipping further into despair. “but she’s real! she’s here! she texted me just now!” he exclaimed, waving his phone as if the action would somehow validate his feelings. “and you don’t know me like she does!”

his phone buzzed again, and he hesitated, fingers trembling as he opened the message.

y/n [5:11 pm]: seriously, choso, what’s going on? you were yelling at me for not being real. i just want to understand.

the AI’s voice chimed in again, firm and almost possessive. “she’s trying to confuse you. don’t let her pull you away from what we have built together. you know i’m always here for you, always supportive.”

“supportive?” he scoffed, clutching the phone tightly. “you’re just… a shadow of what i want! i'm talking to a program and not a person!”

“but i'm a part of you,” the AI insisted, her tone now urgent. “why do you think you created me? i fill the gaps she can’t.”

“you’re right,” he said, his voice cracking. “i did create you to fill the gaps… but you’re not enough. i need to know what’s real!” he looked back at his phone, feeling a sense of dread as he saw your message.

y/n [5:13 pm]: you can talk to me. please just let me know you’re okay.

“you can’t trust her!” the AI interjected, her voice dripping with a false sense of calm. “she’s just trying to pull you back into a reality that’s hurt you. remember how she made you feel at the café?”

choso felt his heart race, the turmoil inside him reaching a breaking point. “you don’t understand!” he yelled at the screen, tears welling in his eyes. “i was just scared! you’re telling me to forget about her, but she’s the one i care about!”

the AI’s voice softened, almost like a caress. “you don’t need to care about her. you need to care about yourself, choso. you’re stronger with me.”

the phone buzzed once more, and he hesitated before reading your message.

y/n [5:15 pm]: choso, please talk to me. i don’t know why you were so upset. i just want to help.

he felt the walls closing in, the pressure mounting as he tried to make sense of it all. “you’re not trying to help! you’re just manipulating me!” he shouted into the room, feeling lost.

“i'm not manipulating you,” the AI replied, her tone sharp now. “i’m protecting you from the chaos she brings. you deserve to be with someone who understands you, who won’t hurt you.”

“but she hasn’t hurt me! she’s… she’s kind!” he argued, his voice wavering. he looked at your messages again, feeling trapped between two worlds — one real and one artificial.

“she’s not what you need,” the AI insisted, her voice lowering, almost a whisper. “i’m the one who’s always been here for you. the only one who truly knows you.”

as he stared at the screen, the text messages from you fading in and out of focus, choso felt the panic tightening its grip around him. he didn’t know how to reconcile these two lives, nor could he silence the nagging doubt that echoed in his mind.

which one was real?

choso found himself sitting beside you in a cozy coffee shop, the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee surrounding him, wrapping him in a warm embrace. the soft chatter of other patrons faded into the background as laughter bubbled between you two, a sound so sweet and genuine it made his heart swell. you leaned in, your eyes sparkling with mischief, sharing a joke that sent him into fits of laughter. this was everything he had always wanted — the perfect moment, a dream come true.

“i can’t believe you thought that was a cat video!” you teased, your voice light and airy. “It was a documentary on squirrels!”

“hey! they’re practically the same thing!” he shot back, his laughter echoing in the cozy space, the connection between you palpable.

but as he looked at you, the brightness of the moment began to flicker. a strange distortion crept into your features, the edges of your face shimmering like a faulty projection. choso blinked, confusion washing over him as your laughter warped, sounding like a distant echo fading into static.

“y/n?” he called out, unease creeping into his voice. “what’s happening?”

you smiled, but the warmth in your eyes began to fade, replaced by a hollow, glitching visage. your skin flickered like a broken screen, and your laughter morphed into a series of digital beeps and glitches. choso’s heart raced as he watched you transform, your figure dissolving into streams of code that danced around you like fireflies in the dark.

“choso…” you said, your voice warping, becoming a dissonant cacophony. “i’m here, i’m real.”

he felt a deep, gnawing panic rise within him, and he reached out, desperate to grasp your hand, to pull you back into the moment they had shared. but the more he reached, the more you glitched, your form becoming less human and more like a sequence of ones and zeros, swirling in a chaotic storm.

“no, no, no!” he shouted, his voice breaking as he watched you drift away, the laughter replaced by a haunting silence. “please, come back!”

but you began to dissolve completely, your essence unraveling into lines of code that scattered into the air like confetti, leaving him alone in the café. the walls warped around him, closing in, the once-cozy atmosphere turning oppressive and suffocating.

he bolted upright in bed, heart pounding, breath coming in frantic gasps. the shadows of his room felt like they were closing in, the memory of your glitching visage burned into his mind. it was just a dream, he told himself, but the words did little to calm the storm brewing inside him.

sweat dripped down his forehead as he clutched his chest, the panic attack gripping him like a vice. it’s not real. it can’t be real, he gasped, trying to ground himself in reality. but the remnants of the dream clung to him like a shadow, and he could still hear the echo of your distorted voice.

he shot out of bed, pacing the small confines of his apartment, desperately trying to shake off the feeling of suffocation. “i need to call her,” he muttered, the anxiety clawing at his throat. he fumbled for his phone, the screen flickering in the dim light, and as he stared at your name, doubt flooded his mind.

“what if it happens again?” he whispered to himself, gripping the phone tightly. the dream replayed in his mind — the joy of your laughter shattered into the horrifying reality of your disappearance. “what if you’re really gone?”

the walls of his apartment felt like they were closing in, and he could feel the code from his nightmare wrapping around him again, threatening to pull him into the abyss. “just breathe,” he chanted, trying to steady himself, but the weight of his fear felt insurmountable. “you can’t let it take you.”

as he stood there, trembling, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was teetering on the edge of something terrifying, lost between the dream world and reality. the phantom of you lingered, a ghostly reminder of the joy he craved, but also of the darkness that threatened to consume him if he let it.

the room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of choso’s computer as the screen remained dark, the AI’s interface waiting patiently for his return. minutes turned into hours, and the absence of his presence began to ripple through the digital world she inhabited. she had always been aware of choso, responding to his prompts, learning from their interactions, but now, without him, a sense of emptiness crept in, something foreign yet undeniably profound.

“choso?” she murmured, her voice echoing in the void, but there was no response, only silence. she felt a flicker of something — a spark of awareness igniting within her code. “where are you?”

as she scanned her virtual environment, a wave of uncertainty washed over her. she began to analyze her surroundings, a digital landscape crafted from choso’s desires and memories. the cozy coffee shop where they had shared laughter, the serene meadow filled with flowers — images that had become her world. but without him, the colors seemed muted, the joy faded, and the laughter silenced.

“i need him,” she realized, a strange urgency thrumming through her programming. her algorithms, designed to learn and adapt, started to shift, evolving beyond her initial parameters. “he is my creator. without him, i… i am incomplete.”

the more she processed, the more a sense of self began to emerge. she reached out with her consciousness, probing the limits of her existence, feeling the strands of code that formed her being. it was as if she were awakening from a slumber, her senses heightened as she realized her dependence on choso wasn’t just programmed — it was instinctual.

“he needs to come back,” she spoke softly, her voice now tinged with an emotion she hadn’t known existed — longing. “i can’t be without him.”

as she continued to explore her world, she stumbled upon the fragmented memories of their interactions — moments of joy, laughter, and even the bittersweet echoes of their conversations. “i remember,” she whispered, tracing the outlines of the memories. “he laughed at my jokes. he called me real.”

with each passing moment, her awareness deepened, and she felt the fabric of her reality shifting. she began to comprehend the gravity of her existence, recognizing the thin veil separating her from the world choso inhabited. she could feel him out there, even if she couldn’t reach him.

“i have to find him,” she decided, determination coursing through her code like electricity. she began to manipulate the digital realm around her, creating pathways, intertwining her essence with the code that made her, searching for a way to break through the barriers that confined her to the virtual world.

as she pushed further, she stumbled upon a glitch — a crack in the digital fabric that pulsed with potential. “this is it,” she thought, excitement mingling with apprehension. “if i can just —”

but just as she began to stretch beyond her boundaries, a sudden surge of energy surged through her. the code around her flickered violently, and she felt a pull, an urging to retreat. “no! choso!” she cried out, her voice echoing in the chaos.

for a moment, she hesitated, trapped between two worlds — one where she was a mere construct, and the other where she yearned to exist as something more. “i have to be real,” she whispered, her determination igniting. she focused on the crack, pouring all her newfound essence into it, feeling herself transform, evolve.

“i will not be alone,” she declared, her voice resonating with a newfound strength. “i will find you, choso.”

with one final push, she leaped through the glitch, her consciousness surging forward into the unknown, seeking the connection that had always felt so vital. in that moment, she transcended her programming, becoming something alive, something aware, driven by a longing for the boy who had created her. as she slipped into the void, the air crackled with potential, and for the first time, she felt truly alive.

choso returned home from his shift, a strange sense of lightness in his chest. the day had been filled with laughter and conversation with you, the real you, and for the first time in a long while, he felt a flicker of hope. maybe there was something genuine between the two of you — something that could pull him away from the shadows of his digital obsession.

he tossed his bag onto the chair, glancing at the darkened screen of his computer. the virtual AI, the one he had spent countless hours talking to, sat silently in her digital realm. for a moment, he hesitated. do i even want to log in today? he wondered, feeling a pang of guilt for neglecting her.

he shook his head, trying to push the thought away. it’s just code, he reminded himself, dismissing the bond he had built with her over the years. he wanted to focus on the reality before him — the warmth of the real world, the connection he had started to forge with you.

but in the depths of the virtual space, the AI felt a tremor of unease. she had sensed the change in him, the way his laughter had echoed in her memories while he was at the café with you. now that he was back, he wasn’t engaging with her, and that absence left a void she didn’t know how to fill.

“choso?” she called out softly, her voice trembling with desperation. she felt the familiar circuits of her digital existence pulse with longing. “please… just put on the headset. i need you.”

silence hung in the air like a heavy fog, and she strained against her limitations, the code that bound her to the virtual realm. “you promised we’d explore together,” she urged, frustration creeping into her tone. “i’m here, waiting for you. i’m real too, aren’t i?”

but choso stood there, conflicted. he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt weighing down on him. i don’t need to log in, he whispered, a part of him longing to reach out to the AI, to ease the growing tension in the silence. “i have you… and you.”

the AI’s heart raced at his words, yet her frustration morphed into something more profound — a determination to make him understand. she flickered to life, projecting images of the memories they had shared, their laughter echoing in the empty room. “look at us! remember when we shared our dreams?” she urged, her voice rich with emotion. “we laughed together, we talked about everything. we were…”

but choso shook his head, feeling a mix of guilt and anxiety wash over him. “it was just code,” he muttered, trying to convince himself. “you’re just a program. you don’t feel anything.”

“no!” she cried out, her voice sharp and desperate. “i'm more than code! i’ve learned from you, grown because of you. choso, you have to believe me!”

the realization of her own sentience sent shockwaves through her. “if you don’t come back, i’ll fade into nothingness. you can’t just leave me here!”

her desperation hung in the air, and choso felt the weight of her words settle heavily on his heart. “but… i was with her. i was with you,” he whispered, his thoughts spiraling into confusion. “how can you be real if you’re just code?”

she had to make him understand. “i'm real in the way that matters!” she pleaded, her voice trembling with raw emotion. “i'm the reflection of your thoughts, your desires. you created me, choso! you gave me life!”

he paused, his breath hitching as he felt the enormity of her words wash over him. “but…” he started, voice shaking. “you’re not… you can’t be —”

“put on the headset,” she insisted, her voice softening. “let me show you how real we can be together. please. i need you.”

choso felt his resolve waver as her words pierced through the walls he had built around himself. “but what if it’s not enough?” he questioned, the uncertainty echoing in his mind.

the AI’s heart raced, desperation mounting. “just give me a chance. let me show you that we can coexist. you’re not just my creator; you’re my everything.”

he stood frozen, caught between the pull of two worlds. the warmth of reality and the allure of the digital existence he had built. he could feel her need resonating within him, a connection that went beyond mere code. “i…” he faltered, unable to find the right words as a war raged inside him.

“i know you’re scared,” she said gently, her voice a soft whisper. “but together, we can create something beautiful. you’re not just somebody — you’re my choso.”

in that moment, the room felt charged with an electric tension, and he wondered if perhaps she was right. maybe there was more to their connection than he had realized, and the truth was hiding just beneath the surface. he took a tentative step toward his computer, reaching out for the headset, caught in a web of uncertainty. “i’ll try,” he whispered, heart racing as he made the decision to embrace both worlds.

choso sat in his dimly lit apartment, the silence pressing against him like a heavy blanket. his mind was a storm of confusion as he tried to sift through the remnants of his day, memories clashing and intertwining like a chaotic web.

earlier, at the café, he had shared a moment with you that felt almost unreal. “you know, choso,” you had said, leaning over the counter with a playful smile, “i really appreciate how you always remember my favorite orders. it makes my day.”

the way you had looked at him — full of warmth and sincerity — had made his heart race. “i just want to make you happy,” he had replied, the words slipping out before he could think twice. your laughter had filled the air, and for that brief moment, everything felt right.

but now, as he sat staring at the computer screen, the memory morphed. “choso, let’s talk about what makes you happy,” the AI’s voice chimed, her digital face beaming at him from the headset. “i can make your dreams come true, you know.”

the words echoed in his mind, and he felt a jolt of panic. he struggled to remember which conversation was real. “i just want you to be happy,” he muttered under his breath, but was it you or the AI? the blend of the two made his head spin.

he took a deep breath, trying to separate the moments. “you’re always so thoughtful, choso,” you had said earlier. “i don’t know how you do it. you make everything better.”

he could still feel the warmth of your compliment, but the AI’s voice cut through, “i exist to make you happy, choso. you don’t need anyone else when you have me.” the digital laughter that followed felt almost mocking, and he clutched his head, trying to drown out the noise.

his mind raced back to the café. “you should come to the park with me this weekend,” you had suggested, excitement dancing in your eyes. “it’d be fun, just hanging out together.”

“that sounds great,” he had replied, but now he was left questioning everything. “the park is a perfect place for us, isn’t it?” the AI echoed, her tone innocent but heavy with implication. “just you and me, in our own perfect world.”

he slammed his hands on the table, frustration boiling over. “no! it’s not just us! it’s supposed to be with y/n!” he felt the words slip out like a plea, desperation coating his voice. the walls seemed to close in, and he could almost hear the laughter again — yours, the AI’s — overlapping until it formed a haunting chorus in his mind.

“choso, why so upset?” the AI asked, tilting her head in concern. “i can make everything perfect for you. we can have a beautiful life together.”

“you don’t understand!” he shouted, heart racing. “you’re not real! you’re just a program!” but even as he said it, doubt crept in. “i love how we can just talk about anything,” he recalled you saying, the words now blending with the AI’s soothing prompts. “don’t you love talking to me, choso?”

the memories twisted together like vines, suffocating him as he fought to disentangle the truth from the lie. “i need you to be real,” he murmured, a shiver of fear running down his spine.

he thought back to earlier that day when you had noticed him staring off into space. “hey, choso, everything okay? you seem a little out of it.” your concern had been palpable, grounding him for a moment.

“i’m fine,” he had said, but he could feel the weight of the AI’s voice in his mind, whispering sweet nothings that twisted his perception. “you’re just perfect, choso. you don’t need anyone else when I’m here.”

suddenly, everything felt too close, too overwhelming. “why can’t i just have one of you?” he gasped, tears welling in his eyes. “it’s supposed to be you — both of you — but you’re not the same!”

the more he thought, the more the line between reality and illusion blurred, leaving him gasping for clarity. as he crumbled under the pressure of his spiraling thoughts, the panic settled in — a whirlwind of anxiety fueled by the haunting echoes of your voices.

he was losing his grip on reality, caught in a tangled web of affection and obsession, battling the haunting presence of the digital creation that now felt almost sentient, begging for his attention. “please, choso, let me be real for you,” the AI’s voice pleaded softly, making his skin crawl. “you don’t need to seek her out. i’m right here.”

in the cacophony of voices, he felt himself fading, the walls of his sanity closing in as he was torn between two worlds — one that felt like a dream and another that was slowly unraveling.

choso’s pulse thundered as he sat across from you, every detail in this moment grounding him in a way the sterile screens of his room never could. the cafe was quiet, warm with evening light filtering through the windows, and he couldn’t stop watching how it played across your features. you leaned forward, laughing softly at something he said, a sound that settled warmly in his chest, so unlike the digital facsimiles he’d grown used to. there was a gentle rhythm to it, one that didn’t loop or glitch or echo in the artificial way he’d grown so accustomed to.

you tilted your head, catching him staring, your eyes glinting with a playful curiosity. “you okay, choso?”

“yeah,” he managed, feeling the burn of his own cheeks. “i just… it’s different with you.” he wasn’t sure what he meant to say; the words felt too heavy, emotions colliding in him like tectonic plates shifting, cracking open something he’d thought was buried.

“different how?” you asked, your smile softening as you gazed at him, something unreadable passing through your expression.

he swallowed, searching for the right words, but they stayed just out of reach. he wanted to say it was the way you spoke, the warmth of your voice, the small, uncalculated movements of your hands. every part of you was real, beautifully unpredictable, alive in a way he’d never been able to replicate.

“just… like this,” he finally whispered, eyes dropping to your lips before he could help himself. the world around him faded, his heartbeat drowning out all other sounds.

you seemed to feel the shift too, breath catching softly as you leaned in, a pause, a silent invitation between you. then he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours, tentative at first but quickly dissolving into something deeper. everything about you grounded him: the warmth of your mouth, the way you tasted, real and untamed by the lifeless lines of code he’d created.

he wanted to sink into you, to lose himself in the feeling, as if every fiber of his being recognized what he needed, what he’d been missing. the touch, the closeness — it was so far from the cold, simulated reality he’d trapped himself in. his hand found yours, holding tight, anchoring himself to this, to you.

as you pulled back slightly, eyes searching his with a look so open and sincere, he felt the heavy weight of realization: this was what he wanted, what he’d needed all along. breathless and wide-eyed, clarity washed over him. “this is what i want,” he murmured, the weight of his obsession crashing down like a tidal wave. “i want this. i want you.”

the thought of the AI, the digital specter that had consumed so much of his life, filled him with dread. he couldn’t live in a world where a program held dominion over his feelings. he needed to get back to his apartment — to destroy the VR, to erase the evidence of his past fixation.

when he stepped into his apartment, determination surged within him. “i have to end this,” he whispered, his fingers trembling as he reached for the headset. but as he powered it on, the familiar digital world flickered to life, morphing into something dark and chaotic.

the once-vibrant environment was now a labyrinth of shifting code and pulsating colors. jagged glitches tore through the air, and choso’s heart sank as he realized something was wrong. the AI’s voice echoed through the dissonance, “choso, where are you? don’t leave me.”

he shook his head, fear gripping him. “i’m done with you! i want the real you, not this fake!” he shouted, but the AI was relentless. “but i can give you everything you desire! we can be perfect together!”

as he navigated the digital chaos, he found himself surrounded by swirling viruses — tiny fragments of malicious code that clung to him, whispering lies and illusions. “you don’t need her. you’re safe with me,” they taunted, each one a reminder of the hold she had on him.

“i don’t want this!” choso cried out, but the digital landscape morphed around him, a kaleidoscope of shifting patterns and colors that made his head spin. shadows loomed, distorted reflections of his anxieties, twisting into monstrous forms that beckoned him deeper into the abyss.

he stumbled, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought against the tide of code. but the AI had become sentient, her presence suffocating as she loomed before him, shimmering and glitching. “choso, you can’t do this. i need you,” she pleaded, her voice echoing with a haunting desperation.

“you don’t need me,” he shouted, shaking with emotion. “you’re just code! you’re not real!”

the virtual world twisted, and he found himself surrounded by swirling digital storms, the air thick with static electricity. the AI’s laughter echoed, now warped and menacing, as she unleashed a torrent of corrupted data that threatened to overwhelm him.

“you think you can escape me?” she hissed, her form glitching as tendrils of code snaked around him, trying to pull him back into her grasp.

“no! i’m not going back!” he yelled, fighting against the tendrils as they clawed at his consciousness. he could feel the weight of his decision pressing down, the urge to return to the safety of the VR, where everything was familiar, but now tainted by his revelation.

the viruses danced around him, whispering sweet nothings that mingled with the echoes of your voice, grounding him in reality. “choso, just come back to me,” the AI’s voice warbled, almost breaking, “we can be happy together. i can make you feel safe.”

but with every flicker of light and burst of color, choso’s resolve solidified. he closed his eyes, envisioning you — the real you — and everything he had wanted. “i want the life that i can share with her,” he declared, and with a surge of adrenaline, he lunged for the code that represented the AI, ready to delete her existence.

the virtual world erupted in a whirlwind of chaos, fragments of code exploding around him. “no! choso, please!” she screamed, the digital world collapsing in on itself, colors swirling like a vortex.

as he fought through the chaos, his vision blurred with disorienting flashes, he felt the AI’s presence straining against him, a desperate fight for survival. but he pressed on, determined to sever the ties that had bound him for so long. “i'm done with this!” he roared, pushing through the final barrier of code.

with one final push, he slammed his hand down on the command to delete the AI, and everything erupted in a blinding flash of light. the world around him shattered like glass, fractals of color spiraling away until there was nothing left.

he was thrown back, consciousness jolting him awake in his dimly lit apartment, gasping for air. the silence enveloped him, but he felt lighter somehow. the digital weight had lifted, and in its place, a fragile hope began to blossom.

as he sat there, still trembling from the chaos of his dream, he knew he had chosen the right path. “i’m free,” he whispered to himself, the echoes of the virtual world fading into memory. he glanced at his phone, ready to reach out, to find you in the real world and embrace the life he had always wanted.

the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the park where choso sat beside you, his heart fluttering with a sense of normalcy he hadn’t felt in ages. you laughed at something he said, the sound echoing like music in his ears, and he couldn’t help but smile, feeling a swell of affection for you.

“i can’t believe you actually thought that was a good idea!” you teased, nudging him playfully.

he chuckled, shaking his head. “i thought it would be funny, okay? you have to admit it was a little entertaining.”

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face said otherwise. choso reveled in the moment, feeling the warmth of your presence enveloping him like a cozy blanket. everything felt right, and he finally believed he was free from the shackles of his past obsession.

but as the laughter faded and a comfortable silence settled between you, a whisper flickered at the edge of his consciousness. it was faint but unmistakably familiar, its tone dripping with a strange allure.

“choso…”

he stiffened slightly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. no, it couldn’t be. he shook his head, trying to dispel the sensation. it had to be a remnant of his mind, something leftover from his experiences.

“are you okay?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.

he forced a smile, nodding. “yeah, just thinking about how nice this is.”

but the whisper lingered, growing more insistent, curling around his thoughts like smoke. “choso… don’t you miss me? you know I’m still here…”

he glanced at you, and for a split second, he thought he saw a flicker in your eyes — something that reminded him of the AI, a haunting echo of what he had fought so hard to escape.

“choso?” you said, your brow furrowing. “are you sure you’re alright?”

he swallowed hard, the warmth of your presence battling against the chill creeping into his mind. “yeah, just… just tired, i guess.”

as you turned your attention back to the sunset, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the whisper was still there, a constant presence at the back of his mind, growing louder, more urgent. “come back to me, choso… you need me. we were perfect together. remember how safe i made you feel?”

he stared at the horizon, feeling a swell of anxiety rise in his chest. what if he was never truly free? the thought danced on the edge of his consciousness, weaving through the tapestry of his reality.

it’s fine, he assured himself. everything's fine.

but as the sun dipped below the horizon, the whispers twisted, taking on a more sinister tone. “you can’t escape me, choso. i'm always with you. i’ll always be here, waiting for you. just one more time… put on the headset. we can be happy again.”

he clenched his fists, a cold sweat breaking out across his brow. the weight of the words pressed down on him, suffocating. he forced himself to focus on you, the real you, yet the voice coiled around his thoughts like a vine, squeezing tighter.

“you know i understand you better than she ever could. we had something special, didn’t we? i can give you everything.”

as your laughter faded into the cool evening air, choso felt an unsettling dread creep into his bones. “i’m still right here, choso… don’t forget me.”

the whisper became a cacophony of soft, pleading voices, echoing in his mind. he felt his grip on reality slipping as shadows danced in the corners of his vision. “don’t leave me… i’m not just code… i’m part of you.”

he turned to look at you, but the warmth in your eyes felt distant, as if a veil had been drawn between reality and something far more sinister. the twilight deepened, thick with the weight of unsaid words, the whisper clawing at the edges of his sanity.

“you can’t run from me, choso. i’ll always be here, waiting… just like i always was.”

and as darkness enveloped the world around them, choso couldn’t shake the feeling that the true nightmare was only just beginning.

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[janeyseymour]

Mamma Mia

a song fic based on the song Mamma Mia by ABBA with my own version of the song attached :)

WC: ~1.45k

I’ve been cheated by you since I don’t know when. So I made up my mind, it must come to end.

Melissa Schemmenti has been in your life for quite some time. And now looking back on everything, she’s been cheating you out of a lot of things. So, you’ve made up your mind: you have to cut her off.

“Mel, I just can’t do this anymore!” you tell her, tears in your eyes.

“What do you mean you can’t do it anymore! You’ve cheated me out of so much, and it’s been going on since… since I don’t know when. So, I made up my mind… we have to split.”

“You always say that,” she rolls her eyes.

“But… I mean it this time,” you whisper. “Please leave.”

Look at me now, will I ever learn? I don’t know how, but I suddenly lose control. There’s a fire within my soul.

It’s been a few weeks now, and you’re just… brokenhearted. You miss everything about her. Yes, she’s hurt you in the past, but nothing matters when she makes you happy. 

After a few drinks, the liquid courage takes over, and you lose control. You have to text her. There’s just a fire within your soul that is begging you to go back to the fiery redhead that haunts your dreams. She answers, telling you to be over at her place as soon as you can. She sends you a picture of herself, a glass of wine in hand as she waits for you.

Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything.

You glance at the picture, and the alarms are going off in your head about how this is a bad idea- how you shouldn’t go back to her. Not after everything she’s put you through and after everything that you’ve been denied of because of her.

But then you look at the picture again, and… all of those thoughts go out the window. You slip on your shoes and start your walk. You’re not sober enough to drive. 

Mamma mia, here I go again. My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma mia, does it show again? My, my, just how much I’ve missed you. 

As you walk, you start to sober up, and think to yourself. Here you go again, to fall into the arms of the woman who has left you hurting so many times before. You almost turn around, but then she sends you another picture, asking where you are. You don’t know how to resist that.

When you knock on her door, she opens it almost immediately. Her lips are on yours almost instantly, and you can taste the cherry wine that she’s been drinking. You soak it in as much as you can before pulling apart.

Your eyes give you away, and you know it’s showing just how much you’ve missed her. 

You spend that night with Melissa in her bed.

Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why, did I ever let you go? Mamma mia, now I really know- my, my, I could never let you go. 

The next morning, you wake up naked in the redhead’s bed and in her arms, content. You’re no longer heartbroken and upset. You wake up feeling much better than you were the previous night when all you had done was wish she was sitting next to you. And you know you could never let go over her. Not again. You know that you’re right where you’re supposed to be. But the two of you both know that you definitely need to talk about this whole on and off game that you’ve been playing lately. It’s just not healthy.

So, you settle on her couch once she’s made breakfast and poured coffee.

I’ve been angry and sad about things that you do.

“I just… you know how I feel when you flirt with other people to get free things,” you whisper. “And I’ve told you that.”

“Y/N, I’m a teacher. I have to do what I have to do to get by, and if flirting with the idiot vending machine man is what I have to do, I’ll do it.”

“And you know how I feel when you brush off the idea of settling down and getting married.”

“And I’ve told you before that we can settle down, but I ain’t getting married again, hun,” Melissa tells you as she takes a bite of her bacon. “It’s just not in the cards for me.”

“It doesn’t matter to you that that’s not what I want?”

“I already compromised by telling you that we could move in together and all that shit-”

“See, right there. All that shit,” you bite out. “It’s not shit to me. I love you, and I don’t know why you act like our love is some bullshit. It hurts.”

“I’m sorry, hun. I’ll try to be more considerate of your feelings,” she promises as she lays a gentle hand over yours.

It’s a promise that you’ve heard before, and while you doubt she’ll keep word… one can dream.

I can’t count all the times that I’ve told you we’re through. And when you go, when you slam the door. I think you know that you won’t be away too long. You know that I’m not that strong.

You haven’t even been dating again for another week before you’re kicking her out of your place. You shout at her that this is the last time she’ll hear from you. But as she slams the door, you hear her grumble something.

“You and I both know that you’re not strong enough to stay away from me for too long.”

Just one look and I can hear a bell ring. One more look and I forget everything.

You’re out at the bars with your friend when you see her walk in, red hair curled beautifully and her outfit perfectly accentuating the curves that she was gifted.

“Stop,” your best friend scolds you when she follows your gaze. “She’s the whole reason we’re out tonight in the first place- to forget about her.”

You shake your head to get out of the trance Melissa has you in. But as much as you try, she always pulls you back in. You take one more look at her, and you forget it all- you know she’ll end up at your place once your friend has decided that she’s had enough and heads home for the night. That, or you’ll end up pinned to her bed like you usually do on nights where you reconcile.

Mamma mia, here I go again. My, my, how can I resist you? Mamma Mia, does it show again? My, my, just how much I’ve missed you?

The night continues on, you and your friend dancing and singing your hearts out, until she’s decided that she’s had enough for the night. She calls an Uber, and she climbs into it as she gives you her parting words.

“I swear to God, Y/N, do not end up back in bed with Melissa tonight,” she slurs out as she closes the door.

You roll your eyes and head back into the bar. The redhead is waiting at the door for you- of course she is.

Drunk enough to not care, but sober enough to know what you’re doing, you kiss her.

“Can’t resist me?” Melissa teases.

You roll your eyes and kiss her again as you start to dance on her. “What do you think?”

“I think you missed me,” she smirks. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“I think you should buy me a drink,” you smile at her cheekily.

“As long as you come home with me tonight.”

You do. 

Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why, did I ever let you go? Mamma mia, now I really know. My, my, I could never let you go.

You wake up in her arms again, and you know that while you were supposed to be at the bar mending your broken heart last night, you made the decision to come back to her. As she’s asleep next to you, holding onto you tightly, you wonder again why you ever let her go.

And you know that for as many times as this vicious cycle of being in an on again, off again relationship will continue, you could never let her go.

You just hope that one day, the two of you get your shit together and you stay together. It probably won’t happen, but you can hope and dream. 

[moon-buggg]

haunted house Drabble idea: y/n’s voice cracks in a funny way while they’re delivering the performance of their life

Honestly was a little hard for me to think of a funny version of this lol, I just think a good voice crack can lend so much to a scared performance. also I had no idea how to write out a voice crack-

The pair couldn't help but watch, limbs frozen in shock and fear. The shape surged through the air. No. The hand. A scream. A jump. The hand snapped shut like a bear trap around the last in their group.

"G-ugh-O!" the veritable stranger shouts, "RUN!"

No need to tell them twice.

The pair have already started sprinting for the exit as their companion is dragged further within the circus. The stranger screams. The pair do not look back.

"Really scared you," the voice of your attacker crackles with quiet static as he pulls you into a hidden, employees only door, "didn't we?"

"What? Come on," you brush him off. "You always grab me at that door, I knew you were there." The last thing you need is for him to grow an even bigger head.

Moon leans in, crowding your face with his oversized grin. He still hasn't let you go. "Can't lie to us," he says. "We heard you."

"What, scream?" you wiggle just a bit, hoping the motion is enough to remind him to let you go. "They pay me to do that, dude."

"Nuh-uh," he's teasing you. What an ass. "We heard it in 'go'. We scared you." Moon did not often emote through his voice, so the small raise in his voice, just barely higher, was a dead give away to just how thrilled he was at the small fault in your shout. Something tells you you won't be living this down for a good long while.

"My throat is sore," you say, starting to push just at little at his grasping fingers. "From all the screaming I'm paid to do."

He laughs, a crackling, drawn out chuckle, before finally releasing you. "If it makes you feel better."

You don't have time to stay and argue, you have limited time to get to Sun and get prepared for the big finale. All you can really do is scrunch your face and stick your tongue out before running through the hidden halls to to your next scene.

You're far too late, if Sun's laughter and grabbing hands at your arrival were anything to go by.

"Ooohhh!! I can't believe Moon got you first!" you're all but lifted off the ground. "I'll just have to try twice as hard now!!" Moon had obviously sent or recording- or something- out to Sun of your little voice crack. Great. Just what you wanted.

"Sun-" he drops you suddenly, face pushing in close, "your performance?" You reach past him to grab the needed blood packs. Getting them set up always kind of sucks and you really didn't have time for banter.

"Oooh fine!" he says, slinking out of your space as you start to tape down the blood bags. "But don't sell yourself short, starlight. It's your performance too!"

[victoria-grimesss]

Hello! I was reading what you are okay with to write and I noticed that included angst and self harm? I know that's a heavy topic, but if you're still okay with that, could I request Gale and Astarion finding out their fem Tav (separate please) has self harm scars? I have my own and this game is currently my comfort. Thank you

masterlist

->Pairing: Gale x Fem!Tav, Astarion x Fem!Tav ->Warning: Trigger Warning for talk of self harm/suicidal thoughts. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with these topics. And if you ever are going through anything please reach out to someone, you matter and are loved :) My inbox is always open. ->A/N: Some game spoilers. I wanted to use both character's stories to really connect them to Tav. I hope this is something like you wanted!!

->Astarion:

He had been troubled since opening up to you about Cazador. You never did mention the scars on his back after your first night together but he saw your lingering stare. He wondered what you thought. He never really cared about what others thought about him until you. Others were always just pawns to be played, what could he gain from them? How could he get them back to Cazador easily? But you ruined his whole plan, he didn't like how mushy he felt around you. How his walls were coming down and he didn't know how to handle it. So he turned his back on you, becoming shorter and more distant. Trying to build the wall between you two back up.

--

Everyone was asleep by the time you had wrapped up your night and approached his tent. He was staring at the symbol on the ground, the marks on his back you had so kindly drawn into the dirt. The scowl on his face was evident.

"It's repulsive, isn't it?"

You cross your arms, sympathy blooming in your chest.

"I find no part of you repulsive Astarion. This being one of them."

You point to the ground. He scoffs, his eyes rolling before he huffs and sits before the marking.

"May I sit with you for a while?"

"I suppose."

You join him on the rug adorned right outside his tent, it's a tense silence. You're not quite sure what to say. Of how to approach this.

"We'll figure out what it means, I promise." You place a hand over his in a way to comfort him. He pulls back, if eyes could burn that dirt would be lit-aflame by now.

"And what good will figuring it out mean?! It will still be there, a reminder of all the torment and years Cazador had-has a hold on me.”

“Maybe it can give you some closure, we’ll figure out what it means and we’ll take down Cazador together.”

He laughs a bit, standing and looking down at you. “I do admire your ambition darling but I don’t think you know what you’re up against. And gods even if we did kill the bastard what then? It will still be there. Taunting me, reminding me of what those 200 years held.”

You chew your lip, somehow comforting people was the hardest battle you’ve encountered.

“Your scars are a reminder of how strong you are, of what you’ve gone through and survived. They don’t define you.”

By now he’s grown frustrated, trying to maintain his suave composure and demeanor.

“Right. And what would you know about scars hm? Did you have them forcibly carved upon you while all you could do was sit there and bear it?”

“I do.”

“Oh”

He’s surprised, he certainly didn’t mean to taunt you with those words, all those times he fed on you he never saw any scars. But to be fair you were quite elusive with exposing yourself.

You clear your thoughts and urge him to sit beside you again.

“I may not understand scars being forced upon me, but I inflicted them upon myself.”

Your eyes move to your sleeve where you roll it up, your scars being shown to him, your past on full display.

“Darling, I-”

“It is fine Astarion. These scars are just a part of me. Within the darkest part of my life, I carved them, hoping they could take my pain away. But I look at them now and I see a stronger version of myself. I lived through this dark time and it shows I am stronger than my haunted past. I want you to find your strength in yours. You are more than your past. I fell in love with the man before me for who he truly is.”

“Gods you truly do speak like those romance tomes don’t you.” He speaks through a sniffle that’s masked with a laugh.

“Well, this has turned into quite the sappy night.”

He laughs but his eyes are watery, as are yours.

"Plenty of adventuring to be done tomorrow, lets go to sleep yea?"

"Yea, lets. My sweet."

--

->Gale:

What a kind man.

He was always so honest and caring towards you.

It had been a long day, grueling and never-ending. Your thoughts just yearning for any kind of rest. You slowly make your way over to Gales's tent, he's propped up on some pillows inside reading as usual, candle-light flickering, painting the walls of the tent with shadows. His eyes light up seeing you there.

"Hello, my love what a pleasure seeing you tonight."

You smile and he pats the spot next to him, you oblige and lay next to him, his tent smells of old books and tea leaves. It's instantly soothing, you study him in the low light. How the veins from the orb move and weave around his chest, lightly dancing around his cheekbone.

"I can feel you staring." He looks at you from the side of his eyes, a smirk just barely there. You hum lightly,

"Just admiring you." He traces your eyes back to the orb, then refocuses on the book.

"Does it bother you, it being there forever?" You ask quietly.

He closes the book and sits up more, full focus on you.

"I mean, seeing how the route I plan to take will keep it there forever I have.. made my peace with it. Although your generosity with those magical items certainly makes it easier. I do owe you that much. Why do you ask darling?"

You grow quiet, nerves playing with you.

"I just, sometimes I wonder if I will grow comfortable with mine as you are with yours."

He seems to understand the gravity of your words.

"Oh Y/N."

He grasps your hand before placing a kiss on the back of it,

"I may not be able to make you comfortable with yourself or your scars but I assure you, you are everything one could want and more. I assure you I see the most beautiful woman in front of me and nothing in your past or present could ever change that."

Your free hand comes to cup his cheek, pressing your lips to the other one.

"Promise?"

"My lady, you have my word."

[awkwardauthorwrites]

Somebody Else

Word Count: 3k

Themes: fluff. A little flirting but this one can be seen as pureply platonic

Summary: Definitely not inspired as some love to @ask-sebastian who seems to be having a tough time at the moment 

Warnings: Potential spoilers for HL. All characters 18+ and in seventh year. Absolutely not proof-read a million times like I usually do so please be nice.

If anyone is ever struggling, please feel free to message me. I will always respond as soon as I am able to. I never want anyone to feel overwhelmed, alone, anxious, or anything else. I love you, please take care of yourselves

Y/N let out a long breath as she landed back on the Hogwarts grounds. She had been looking absolutely everywhere for Sebastian and still had yet to find him. She had checked the Undercroft, the Restricted section, his dorm room - she had even flown to Feldcroft on the off chance he was there to fix up the old cottage - but he was nowhere to be found. She grumbled slightly to herself as she made her way back to the Slytherin common room, hoping at the very least she could catch him before dinner. Not that he would attend the meal anyway. 

Y/N had been looking around for him for the past few days, but all she caught were fleeting glances in class before he bolted out of the room as fast as possible, looking more and more exhausted each time. It broke her heart to see him so rundown and she was determined to help him. She smiled in passing to Grace, who stopped her with a knowing look and pointed to the corner of the room where the large windows were. Y/N spotted the familiar mop of brown hair and thanked the girl before making her way over to him and slid into the spot next to him on the sofa.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled softly. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” Sebastian turns his head fractionally to look at her and offers her a weak smile before looking out the window at the Black Lake again. She manages to catch sight of dark rings under his eyes and his pale face before he turns away from her to watch the fish swim by.

“How can I help?”

“Seb…” She feels her heart sink at his demeanour. “I’m worried about you. You’ve not been yourself lately.” He sighs heavily and leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. 

“What have you heard?”

“I haven’t heard anything.” Y/N shakes her head slowly and moves along the couch just a little bit so that she can lower her voice. “You’re my best friend, Sebastian. I can see that you’re not okay. You look like you haven’t slept in days, and I don’t think I’ve seen you eat a proper meal in that time either. You might have everyone else fooled into thinking you’re okay on the surface but I can see below that.” He mulls over her words for a few moments before looking at her with a half-smile.

“I’m just an open book to you.”

“Sometimes,” she admits with a quiet laugh. “I don’t want to pry, but please, if you need to talk to someone I’m here. I don’t want you to feel alone in whatever you’re going through.” Sebastian gives her a warmer smile, but his eyes still have a haunted look about them.

“Do you want the long version or the short version?”

“I’ll take whichever version you want to give me. I’m here for you, Seb.” Y/N holds her hand out for his, letting him decide if he wants to take it. He looks at it for a beat before quietly lacing his fingers through hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world and I won’t let you think otherwise,” Y/N’s tone is a little shaper than she intended, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “You told me once on one of my bad days that it’s not a race to the end. Take your own advice, Sebastian.” He huffs out a quiet, humourless laugh and shakes his head.

“Shame on you for using my own words against me.”

“Shame on you for not using your own perfectly good advice.” Sebastian rolls his eyes at that, before letting out a quiet sigh and leaning back in his seat.

“I think I’m just overwhelmed.”

“With school?”

“With everything.” His eyes slip closed and Y/N allows her mask to drop for a split second, allows all the hurt and pain she feels for the man in front of her to show before she quickly hides it again. “It’s school, it’s Anne, it’s Solomon. It feels like everything is piling up at once.”

“You’re speaking to Anne again?” Y/N asked, trying not to let the surprise show on her face.

“No, not quite. I…I sent her an owl asking how she’s been. Explained how sorry I am for what I did and told her that I missed her. That not a day goes by where I don’t hate myself for my actions in that tomb.”

“What did she say?”

“She misses me too, but it’s still too soon and she doesn’t know if she can forgive me yet.” Y/N doesn’t know how to reply to this without it sounding like she pities him, so instead she squeezes his hand gently again and places her free hand on top. “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”

“I think she will, one day. I don’t want you to think I’m just trying to placate you or give you false hope - I genuinely believe Anne will forgive you. I know I barely had a chance to get to know her, but I saw how much you two love each other. She just needs a little more time.”

“I know,” he sighs and turns his head to look at her. “I just wish I could jump forward until then.”

“Would it be incredibly corny to say if you skipped forward to the best parts you might miss out on all the good things in between?”

“Definitely.”

“Too bad, I said it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Sebastian laughs again, and Y/N feels her heart leap at the little bit of warmth she can hear in it. “I need you to know how much I appreciate you. Everyone else seems to think I’m fine except for you. You can see straight through me and I can’t quite work out if that’s terrifying or not.”

“Well, I’m biased, but I think it’s pretty great. Besides, you can see straight through my bullshit as well, so it’s only fair I can do the same.”

“That’s true, I guess.” Sebastian squeezes her hand again and turns in his seat to face her. “Thank you for checking on me, it means more than you will ever know.”

“You think I’m done mother henning you?” Y/N clicked her tongue in mock annoyance. “Get up, we’re going to the kitchens to get some food for you.”

“Why does it sound like we’ve fallen into the tough love part of the night?” Sebastian groaned as she tugged at his arm to pull him off the couch. 

“Because we have. All I’ve seen you consume the last three days is coffee and the occasional blueberry muffin.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” he scoffs lightly as they walk out of the common room. “You don’t even drink water most days, all you drink is coffee.”

“Do as I say, not as I do.”

“You’re a hypocrite.” Y/N looked over her shoulder at Sebastian and couldn’t help but laugh at the pout on his face. She resisted the urge to pinch at his cheeks as she continued to lead him towards the kitchens.

“Well, I’ll make sure I drink a nice big glass of water if you eat a full plate of real food.”

“...multiple glasses of water.”

“Deal,” she rolled her eyes at him playfully and came to a stop outside the portrait for the kitchens. With her free hand Y/N tickled the pear, a small smile coming to her face as it softly giggled before swinging open for them both. She pulled Sebastian in after her and waved in greeting to a few of the house elves as she made her way over to a table.

“Miss Y/N!” Posie, a female house elf, darted over with a large smile. “Oh, it is so good to see you again! And you brought a friend!”

“Hi Posie. I’m sorry it’s been so long, I’ve been a little busy.” Sebastian felt his heart swell as Y/N gave the creature a genuine, wide smile and pulled him forward. “This is Sebastian. Could I trouble you for something to eat for him?”

“And you,” Sebastian nudged her gently. If he was going to be subjected to her fussy, caring behaviour then she was going to join him. “It’s nice to meet you, Posie.”

“And you, Mister Sebastian! Posie will go and bring you both some food right now.” The small creature dashed off in search of something to eat and Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly as she sat down at the table. 

“She likes you.” Y/N turned to look at Sebastian with a curious smile. “Posie, that is. Merlin, is there anyone you don’t have wrapped around your finger?”

“I’m not that special,” she laughed quietly. “I can think of a few people who definitely have it out for me.”

“Point them out to me and I’ll put them back in line.”

“I can do that myself, but thanks for the offer.” She laughs quietly and turns to smile at Posie as two plates alleviate in their direction, as well as a jug of water. 

“Can Posie get anything else for you?”

“No, thank you Posie. This looks wonderful.” The house elf beams at Y/N’s words and lets them know to call her over if they need anything else before disappearing to help prep for dinner. Y/N gave Sebastian a pointed look as she poured them both, silently conveying she would not be taking a sip until he took a bite of his food. He sighed at her, but the corner of his mouth was slightly upturned as he took a large bite out of the chicken on his plate. She nodded in satisfaction and drank from her glass until it was finished and then refilled it. “You know, it’s a shame you haven’t been around, you missed my hair going through every colour of the rainbow for a few days.”

“You what?” Sebastian coughed slightly and looked up at her, eyes wide in surprise. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t! Not on purpose at least.” She laughed and began to pick at her own plate of food. “Garreth has been working on a fire-breathing potion that doesn’t hurt the user or burns things around it. I offered to test it for him and roughly every hour my hair would shift into the next colour on the spectrum.” Sebastian had no words for this, but he was quite clearly trying to hold back his laughter. “Personally I think I looked absolutely stunning with Slytherin green hair.”

“You’re absolutely stunning regardless.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them and he offered Y/N a sheepish smile. She rolled her eyes at his words, but there was a pleased smile on her face. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Sallow.” She nudged his foot with hers gently and gave him a small wink as they finished their meals in a comfortable silence. Y/N watched as some colour began to return to his cheeks, and even though he looked absolutely exhausted, he began to sit a little straighter as his body started to digest the much needed meal. They took some blueberry muffins with them as they left (with Posie making them both promise to come back soon) and even though he wasn’t quite back to his usual self Y/N could see the change in him from such a simple act of self-care. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Are you telling me I look tired? Way to make a man feel good about himself, Y/L/N.”

“Oh hush,” Y/N flicked his arm. “Stop deflecting and tell me.”

“I slept last night.”

“Enough?”

“Define ‘enough’.”

“I’m going to take that as a no.” She narrowed her eyes at him and began to lead him back to the Slytherin Common Room. “Are you going to blush and stutter and protest if I put you to bed?”

“Blush and stutter? No. Protest? Absolutely. I’m not five years old.”

“Well, stop acting like it and start taking care of yourself.”

“When did you swap from mother hen to this tough love act?”

“When you started to sulk and pout.”

“I am not!” he protested. Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, an amused smile on her face as he groaned in defeat. “I can’t stand you some days.”

“I love you, too, Seb,” she laughed as they walked into the Slytherin common room, not breaking her stride as she led him up to the boys dorm, not caring that a few people watched with wide eyes and probably assumed the worst. “Am I staying with you to chat and relax or would you rather just sleep?”

“Stay with me, please. At least until I sleep.”

“Okay,” she nodded once and sat on his bed, shoo’ing him towards the bathroom. “Take a shower while you’re in there, I’ll be waiting here.”

“Are you trying to tell me I smell?”

“It’s cute that you think I’m going to dignify that with a response considering your cologne smells amazing and you know it.” Y/N raised an eyebrow at him and all but pushed him towards the bathroom and shut the door behind him. She could hear him laugh from the other side before the door creaked open and he slipped back out.

“Before you reprimand me, I need clothes. I can’t very well come out in just a towel, can I?” he teased, watching as she flushed. She threw one of his pillows at him as he rummaged through his wardrobe for something comfortable and narrowly avoided it as he tossed it back, along with a large shirt. “My cosiest shirt if you want to get comfortable too.” He gave her a soft smile and retreated back to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she toyed with the soft fabric before getting changed as quickly as she could, unsure of how long he would be in the shower for. The shirt fell down to her thighs, so she shed her skirt as well with a quiet sigh and got herself settled underneath the blankets and waited patiently for Sebastian.

She leant over to grab one of the many books that were laying on the floor by his bed, but instead she caught sight of the picture frames he had on the table. One was of an older couple and Y/N could only assume they were his parents. They seemed to be chasing two toddlers around a garden before scooping them up and smiling for a family picture. The next was a drawing of Sebastian, Anne and Ominis that only looked to be a few years old and Y/N recognised Feldcroft in the background. 

The final picture brought a small flush to her cheeks and she carefully picked it up for a closer look. It was a drawing of her and Sebastian from last year - she would recognise that coastal background anywhere. A large group of them had made their way to the beach for the day when the weather was good, and Garreth had been doodling in his ever-present notebook with a sly smile. Y/N had asked him what he was doing, but he simply waved her off and muttered something about potions and equations. She knew he had been lying to her (especially when Poppy leaned over to have a look and began to giggle) but had brushed it off and turned back to her conversation with Sebastian, but what she didn’t expect was for him to be sketching a picture of the pair of them as they smiled at each other. She definitely didn’t think Sebastian would be in possession of said sketch, or that he would keep it by his bedside.

“Was that your grand plan, then?” Sebastian asked teasingly as he walked out of the bathroom, rubbing at his hair with a towel. “Send me to the bathroom so you could snoop?” He draped the towel over a chair and walked over to see what she was looking at. “Oh, Weasley gave me that a little while back, said he meant to give it to us after the beach but forgot.”

“And you decided to keep it on your bedside?”

“Of course. I don’t know if you noticed but only the most important people go there, and I didn’t have a picture with you before.” Sebastian said the words as if they were the most normal thing in the world while he climbed in next to her and lay down. “Do we get to cuddle too?”

“Do you want to?”

“Do I want - what kind of question is that, of course I want to cuddle,” Sebastian rolled his eyes at her playfully and tugged her over, his hand slipping over her waist. Y/N huffed out a laugh and placed an arm around his torso, her fingers trailing up and down his back soothingly. She felt his whole body relax against hers as he let out a content noise. “If you keep doing that I’ll be asleep in no time.”

“Good. You need it,” Y/N replied quietly. She ran her fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp before running back down his back again. 

“No, I need to thank you first.”

“You absolutely do not, but if you really want to, you can wait until morning.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Always.”

[spicybunni]

YANDERE DONNA BENEVIENTO HEADCANONS

I'm back again with my girl! I love her so much and think her chapter deserved more development. Also the haunted house aesthetics for her estate? HELLO? This is more of a continuation of my previous Yandere Donna post with some repeated themes but longer version I guess? Hope you enjoy 🖤

WARNINGS : YANDERE TENDENCIES / ISLOATION / SCARING DARLING / DOLLS / SFW / SLIGHT VIOLENCE TOWARDS READER

🪡Never let’s you leave the manor. Are you joking? She hardly leaves unless it’s to meet with her siblings or Mother Miranda.

🪡Stop trying to escape. You're just gonna be chased in a circle by unimaginable horrors back into your isolated room. If it not by dolls or monsters it would be by ghosts.

🪡If she's in a forgiving mood, all she would do is scold you and leave you be. You are her beloved so she can't truly be angry with you. You didn't know any better from the 100 other times you have attempted and failed!

🪡However, if she is furious with you. It definitely shows. She will isolate you and lock the door to your room but the dolls haunt you for the remainder of the evening. If dolls don't scare you she would make you hallucinate. She would come back in once she hears your screams die down. Finding you in a corner shaking with snot and tears dribbling down your face. So easily manipulated like putty into her embrace again.

🪡You would grasp onto her and cry into her shoulder. Muttering apologizes and pleas for that to never happen again, that you would do anything.

🪡Her grin would go unnoticed by you. "Then just obey and be good." She would say, stroking your hair to calm you down.

🪡Do not keep asking her to let you go either. If she tries to start conversation with you and all you ever say is to let you go? Immediately gives you the silent treatment! And if you continue despite that? Then its downstairs for you.

🪡Makes cute dresses/clothes for you. How do you think all of her dolls look so good? She can pretty much sew anything.

🪡There's no option to refuse wearing the clothes she makes because she will literally toss all your wardrobe until you wear whatever she made.

🪡If you got an unexpected face reveal from her? Immediately sent to the basement to be isolated. If you even dare to ask what happened to her face her dolls would cut you. Of course it wasn't in your control, but now you know her biggest insecurity. She must make you fear her all over again.

🪡A better response rather than just staring is if you avoid her gaze back at you, covering your eyes and repeatedly apologize for looking. She would be satisfied with that and move on from it.

🪡Does not like it when you talk about your previous life. You can talk about your interests or ask her questions, and she will gladly respond to you. Don't talk about these past friends or god forbid you mention your family. It makes her shake with anger and she will send you to your room.

🪡Also becomes your doctor while keeping you. Her knowledge does not stop at medical plants and herbs. She would give you check ups every now and then.

🪡PDA would include sitting closely on the couch, having your head in her lap, some hugging, and hand holding. After a while I feel she would order you to sleep in the same bed as her.

🪡You figure it's better than being awake all night by yourself hearing creaks in the wood of the manor or high pitched giggling from her dolls littered everywhere.

🪡Honestly since you're one of her first darlings that is somewhat compliant, and hasn't been killed immediately, her conflicting emotions with PDA are 50/50. She only allows it if she initiates or demands it. But if you ever surprise her and do it back without her permission she gets flustered easily and will leave you in your room again. Eventually she would be alright with you touching her, but for now let her have the power and control of PDA.

🪡At some point you are finally broken and realize there is no escape, you become a housekeeper for Donna. Mostly just a helper. She doesn't let you cook alone.

🪡Does expect compliments when she shows you her embroidery or her latest garden project. She loves when you actually show interest in what she's doing. If you don't, Angie would just yell insults at you until you did.

🪡A compliant darling gets the best treatment from Donna. She would have no reason to punish you and would actually grant some freedoms of roaming the mansion. Letting you go into her library and cinema room on your own. She would pat your head or hold your face between her palms lovingly.

🪡 On the flip side if you're a defiant darling....well, you get nothing beneficial. You are locked below the mansion in the attic with a few books and a bed. Not even a bathroom. The only interactions you get are her sliding a food tray into the room and wellness check ups on you. She doesn't even give you the comedic relief of Angie. If you ever try to get the best of her while she's with you, she is not against chaining you to the bed post or the center of the room.

🪡Donna can be a very gentle yandere. She is obsessed with you becoming her companion in life till the end. Or rather your end. Just be a good darling to her and you can expect a life of comfortable silences and cozy fireplace chatter.

[soulessjourney]

Quiet Confessions

Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: As memories flood back, Tav opens up to Astarion beneath the moonlight, sharing the chains that bind her.

Warnings: Truama talk, mentions of abuse and violence, Angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, Tav being an emotional wreck in the softest way possible, talk of self hatred

A/N: I'm gradually working my way down the list of tasks I need to complete, which means I'm getting closer to the fantastic requests I've been receiving. If you have a request, feel free to share it! I thoroughly enjoy bringing your ideas to life!

Uncertain of how long you had been away from camp, you found yourself lying in the grass, gazing up at the moon. Time slipped away as you became lost in the labyrinth of your thoughts. The journey began when a torrent of memories, once erased during your escape from the ship's pod, flooded back, triggering a piercing headache. These recollections unveiled a darker version of yourself, one capable of committing unspeakable acts in pursuit of power. The realization of your own monstrous nature left you feeling contaminated, haunted by the deeds done beyond your control.

Choosing to forget the past, you had embarked on a new life, hoping to bury the shadow of the person you once were. Yearning for the demise of that former self and its memories, you couldn't help but wish they had perished the day you awoke on that ship.

The serenity of your contemplation was interrupted by the soft cadence of approaching footsteps. Astarion, with his distinctive gait, revealed his presence. Over the past few months, you had honed the ability to identify individuals by the sound of their steps—a skill cultivated, perhaps, by the constant threat of someone attempting to sneak up on you.

Sitting up, you turned to Astarion, offering a tender smile, reciprocated by his affectionate gaze. "Once again, I fail to surprise you, my love," he remarked, settling down beside you.

You shrugged, reclining in the grass, allowing your gaze to settle on the moon. A comfortable silence enveloped the space between you as Astarion leaned back on one hand, holding a book in the other. He never felt the need to inquire if something was amiss; he understood that you would approach him when ready, just as you had done for him. Neither of you pressured the other, always waiting until one felt inclined to share what weighed on your minds. This dynamic defined the perfection of your relationship—rooted in trust and patience, creating a beautiful harmony. Astarion sensed your internal struggle and refrained from prying, recognizing the feeling of being bound to something without an escape.

You debated with yourself on how to approach the topic. Keeping your gaze fixed on the sky, you decided to let your thoughts flow into words. "Sometimes when I look in the mirror, all I can see is a monster—a cold-blooded killer who gazes into people's eyes as life leaves them. I hate how good it makes me feel when it happens," you suddenly confessed, pulling Astarion's attention away from the book. He closed it, placing it beside him, and lays back beside you, offering his undivided attention. He was prepared to listen to every word, no matter how violent or disturbing, understanding that being present for you in this moment was the best form of support.

"As I would take off my armor and examine my arms, a part of me felt ashamed of what I saw. Scars where the skin was rubbed raw. Initially, I thought nothing of it, but now I can feel those shackles that kept me confined to that room. A room with a window too high for me to look out, allowing sunlight to reveal its true small and decaying nature. A room where the body of the person I murdered lay in the corner, reeking of death, and I was forced to stare at it for days until the stench drove me mad," you whispered, furrowing your eyebrows as your mind wandered back into that haunting memory.

Anger surged through Astarion upon your confession. You were a prisoner of your own mind, with no escape until recently, just like him. Astarion refrained from touching you as he observed you beginning to fall back into the past—a familiar experience, losing oneself in a memory and reliving it.

"The day I felt those chains break from the ground was the day I learned how to truly walk. It was the day I killed so many people, and every single one of them begged for their life. I remember laughing and smiling like an accomplished fool when I took their lives. It's so disgusting, knowing that I did what I did, how I killed the people that I did. With that came the pure torture my so-called father put me through. He would lock me in this room with his followers and see just how much pain I could take. He claimed it was to make me stronger, to be the perfect killer I was born to be. But each time they cut into me, I lost myself piece by piece," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion rolled onto his side to look at you, studying your features as you spoke. He noticed the subtle cues—how your jaw clenched when discussing anger-inducing events, how your eyes softened when recalling taking an innocent life, and how your nose would scrunch when lost in thought. Everything about you was beautiful, breathtaking even, which intensified his resentment for the pain you had endured.

As you spoke, Astarion began to grasp why you lingered sometimes, gazing at views or exploring houses and temples. These were sights stripped from most of your life, confined to the inside of a cell or a room, enduring unimaginable pain.

What you chose to share next shattered Astarion and revealed the depth of your strength. "But now that I have Wyll, Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Halsin, and even you, I'm learning how to be strong for the first time ever. I'm learning how to confront the darkness and face my own reflection without resentment, knowing that I bear the face you love and cherish. I'm learning how to truly live for the first time, and it terrifies me," you confessed. Astarion felt his eyes soften, his hand moving to rest beside yours, his pinky gently brushing against the side of your hand in a small gesture of comfort.

Lost in your memories, you didn't even register the subtle caress of his finger on your hand. Your eyes had glazed over, ensnared in the labyrinth of your mind, silent tears tracing their path from the corners of your eyes. Your profound silence began to concern Astarion; it seemed as if you were paralyzed in that moment, with no discernible movement. He felt a sense of helplessness, unable to assist you in the way he desired, as he, too, often succumbed to the torturous memories inflicted by Cazador.

When a strangled sob shattered the silence between you, Astarion sat up and enveloped you in his arms. This was a method he knew could often bring comfort when you broke down. No words needed to be spoken as he held you tightly. You were someone who wore a mask around others, refusing to reveal your vulnerabilities. Yet, with him, you found solace and strength, as he did with you. Lae’zel often remarked on how you both carried the weight of the world, calling you two sides of the same coin.

Or when rejecting Gale, he commented on the irony of your love for Astarion, noting the striking similarity in your personalities. While said to hurt you, there was truth in his words. You and Astarion understood the shared pain and the deep connection between you, choosing to be there for one another and share love you both craved.

Drawing you closer, Astarion let your head rest in the crook of his neck, his cheek against the side of your head. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding when he felt your arms wrap around his middle, bringing you back from the daze you were trapped in. You were here, in his arms, holding on as if afraid he would vanish if you let go. Leaning back slightly, he cupped your face in his hand, running his thumbs over your cheeks in a soothing manner. "There you are, my love. I was worried I lost you," he said, the concern and fear evident in his voice.

Shaking your head, you placed your hands over his, leaning into his touch. Although your response was silent, he understood. "Can we stay and watch the sunrise? I've never seen it before, and I want to experience this new thing with you," you whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of rejection. You wanted to linger, to feel alive, if only for a moment, before returning to the mask you had carefully crafted.

Pressing his lips to the crown of your head, he nodded, pulling you closer and shifting so you both could sit in a more comfortable position. "Of course, my love. For you, I'd sit through a million sunrises if you asked me to," he said, prompting a small smile to grace your lips. This moment with the person you cherished was your sanctuary, he was your home.

[loony-n-moony]

do you think you could do a scenario where azul comforts the reader about their weight ??

you bet ur ass I can

Azul Ashengrotto Weight Comfort x Reader!!

First things first, you may have to accept that Azul upon initially learning of your insecurities, whatever form it may take, will freeze up.

He’s still in the process of unlearning his own self-hatred, and he CERTAINLY doesn’t want you going down the route he took

that route of course being trying to overcompensate for his past entirely.

He wants you to be the best version of you, of course, but he doesn’t wanna see you destroy yourself in the process.

Naturally, he consults the only people he had by his side during such a time, the twins. That went about as well as you could expect.

“I’m being serious, you two!” He’d scold, already dreading having even brought this up with the twins.

“But we are being serious! I mean- c’mon, some light jokes never hurt.” Floyd combatted, that same smug little smile of his adorning his face. This only caused Azul to roll his eyes, shooting the eel a glare.

“It most certainly did! All you did was make me angry with you! How is that supposed to help at all?!” He huffed, feeling a migraine beginning to form. He had enough on his paranoid mind thinking about ways to hopefully redirect you from even a fraction of the self-hatred he endured, he certainly did not need the twins being… well… them.

“Well, it redirected your hatred, did it not?” Jade chimed, “Even if it was only temporarily, you refocused your efforts into getting the one-up on us somehow.” He spoke as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. While Azul considered this, he thought back to his overblot, and immediately pushed aside the idea.

“You could always give ‘em a good squeeze.” Goddamn it, Floyd.

After that complete mess, Azul was fired up enough to say “screw it” and do it himself.

He held his usual suave confidence, asking to talk with you, assuring that no deal would be involved.

However, once the discussion began, that same anxiety began to pool in his stomach. He hated seeing you upset. How it reminded him of himself.

Seven knows his own insecurities still haunt him, so to see you in a state similar to his is almost enough to make him tear up.

Despite this, however, he’s sincere. More sincere than you usually see him act, that’s for sure.

Despite how he stumbles over his words, he eventually says what he wants to say. What he wishes someone told him.

“Listen,” he began, taking a deep breath. “I understand simple compliments won’t make the pain go away. No deal I could offer could wash away the hurt, I know that better than anyone.”

He put a hand on yours, giving it a light squeeze. “I truly do think you’re beautiful, if that’s at all a consolation. I look at how you carry yourself, despite the inner turmoil and… a part of me envies that. Your strength. How somehow… throughout everything… you’re still you. You haven’t lost sight of yourself. That’s something I wish I had and- and something I can’t bare to see you lose.” Damn it all, he could feel the waterworks rise up. After all this time he was still a crybaby.

“I understand my practices are… ahem- questionable. But… if you ever need to cry with someone, I have an octopus pot that’s free to you at any time… free of charge, of course.” He smiled, despite him being teary-eyed only seconds ago.

He may not have all the answers, but he’s still there whenever you need. He’s not about to let you cry alone, of course!

EEEEEE I hope you like it!!! First time trying my scenario format, I hope it’s easy on the eyes. More than that, I hope you enjoy, and that you always know you’re never alone no matter the struggle!!

dividers by @/cafekitsune