#someone who respected her and loved her and was relaxed with her and cared about her no matter what

[bonnieisaway]

why did i not think of this before? why did this take me so long to think of? i've been editing this show for well over a year now and it onyl just occured to me to do this?? ive adored this song for ages?? im always looking for excuses to edit this scene and i JUST fucking thought of this?>!?!?!?????????????

anyways. if it cost me my life man i'd save my only friend. that's something i could live with. i could take that to the end. if it cost my my life i'd save my only friend!!!

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

some Chrollo things i found/realized on my rewatch + reread of hxh

- he has REALLY bad posture. in the PT base during yorknew, when Chrollo is reading a book, he is literally hunched over and his back is at like a 45 degree angle🥺

- he’s very smug and cocky. after his fight against Zeno and Silva, he asks with a smirk to Zeno “if we were in a fight, who would win, you or me?” and chuckles knowingly when Zeno replies. during Chrollo vs Hisoka, Chrollo says that he is “100% sure that i am going to win”

- his personality switches depending on who he’s with. with the troupe, he’s logical and stoic—never losing his temper. when he’s with Hisoka, he’s much more relaxed and friendly + smiles much more often. when he’s with someone older, he’s respectful.

- he doesn’t seem to mind celebrations/parties. he’s seen drinking with the troupe in a manga panel after the auction.

- he seems very self aware of his handsome appearance, as he lured Neon in + most of the abilities in his book are from women.

- in terms of physical strength, Chrollo is 7th in the Troupe —above Bonolenov, Nobunaga, Shalnark, Pakunoda, Shizuku, and Kortopi, making him MUCH MUCH MUCH stronger than even superhumans such as Gon and Killua. (I love this fact for some reason)

- he had many similarities to Gon and Kurapika as a kid. (read Ch. 395-397, which is the Troupe backstory. it has a lot of cute baby Troupe member scenes🥺)

- he has a habit of covering his mouth with his hand whenever he is thinking deeply about something or connecting the lines.

- he knows a shocking amount about the Kakin Empire (in the manga), even more so than some of the Princes of the Kakin Empire.

- he seems to have a habit of smirking whenever something is going according to plan or when something went according to plan. he also just seems to enjoy smirking in general.

- his favorite color seems to be purple due to much of his outfits being some sort of variation of purple.

- in official arts + mobage cards, he seems to have dark circles under his eyes. in the yorknew city arc, he is also the only troupe member who didn’t sleep during the entire arc, meaning that he seems to have some sort of insomnia.

- in mobage cards, Chrollo seems to have a habit of fidgeting with his clothes. (pulling off his tie during the Christmas mobage card, playing with his hat, etc,.)

- he is very athletic, considering how at the end of yorknew city when he was left nen-less on those plateaus, he managed to climb down and find shelter all by himself.

- he is also very rich, since on average, every Zoldyck assassination costs around 1 billion—Chrollo managed to afford to assassinate the 10 Dons, meaning 10 billion Jenny.

- Chrollo doesn’t seem to care whenever someone is being disrespectful towards him or the troupe.

- Chrollo seems to have a particular fondness for suits, as he is often seen wearing a suit in official arts

- Chrollo often wears clothing that covers much of his body

- Chrollo seems to have the traditional values of a chivalrous man, meaning that he respects women quite a lot and makes sures to keep them safe. Chrollo made sure to catch Neon in the most respectful way when she “fell” (he literally could have just grabbed her by the arm and it would have been fine), he made sure to keep Pakunoda + Machi + Shizuku in the same team during yorknew (there were no men in their team), and during the Chrollo vs Hisoka battle, none of the female spectators (or even the commentator) were harmed.

———

AUGHHHHHH CHROLLO ILYSM PLEASE LIVE UNTIL THE END OF THE SERIES😭🥺😫❤️CHROLLOOOO UR MY BBY AND ILYSMMMMM😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[22ayla21]

Fathers and Their Children Part II

The Twisted Wonderland boys as fathers.

Third year Second year First year

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle, being a proponent of order, tries to raise his children with discipline, but after the events of his youth, he realizes that excessive strictness can be harmful. He demands respect, but doesn't turn his home into a barracks. He has certain rules (like "Don't play with food at the table" and "Do your homework before sunset"), but he's no longer the boy who blindly followed his mother's rigid norms.

Although he doesn't always express his feelings in words, his children know he loves them. He's willing to sit by a sick child's bedside at night, gently tucking in their blanket as they fall asleep, and brew their favorite tea if they've had a tough day.

He's proud of his son, especially when he shows intelligence and diligence in his studies. However, he's very soft towards his daughter—she's the only one who can persuade him to break a rule or simply give in to her cute eyes. If she asks for a little more time before bed or an extra cookie, he initially shakes his head sternly, but a few minutes later, he gives in.

When his mother comes to visit, the atmosphere in the house immediately becomes tense. She thinks Riddle is too lenient with the children and tries to impose her "order." For example, she might criticize her son for his too "weak" control over the family, demanding that the children sit with perfectly straight backs and eat only "proper" food.

• The children try to escape her in any way possible. If she comes, they suddenly become "very busy" in their rooms or find urgent errands outside.

• The son sometimes openly protests, saying, "Dad, you're not going to make me sit and listen to her for hours, are you?!"

• The daughter initially tries to be polite but then just hides behind her mom.

Despite his strictness, he tries to instill in his children truly important principles: respect, responsibility, and a thirst for knowledge. He's proud that his son and daughter aren't afraid to voice their opinions, even if they contradict his views.

Sometimes, when no one is watching, he allows himself to be just a dad, not a strict head of the family. He might play chess with the children or even magic games, although he later pretends it was purely "for educational purposes."

If the children misbehave, he doesn't yell or make a scene. Instead, he gives them logical punishments: for example, skipping dinner (but with tea, because he's not cruel) or writing an essay on why it's important to respect rules. But if someone hurts each other or anyone else—then he's truly strict.

Riddle isn't perfect, but he tries to be the best father he can be. His children help him understand that sometimes it's okay to just be happy, even if the world around them isn't perfect.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie, of course, loves his son, but raising a child is a real headache. He might grumble when the boy makes a mess or asks too many questions, but deep down, he's proud of how clever and cunning the kid is becoming.

His son is a real little rascal. He quickly figures out how to get what he wants with minimal effort: "Dad, if I help you clean up, will you give me a meat pie?" Ruggie initially laughs, but then realizes that's exactly how he taught him.

Although he's quite relaxed about parenting, he won't let his son be lazy or slack off. If the boy starts being too blatantly cunning, he'll put him in his place: "Listen, son, if you want to be smart, at least don't show it."

Ruggie believes it's important for his son to be able to take care of himself. He teaches him to cook, find easy ways to earn money, and even pull off small adventures: "If you want a tasty meal, help get it first!"

If he's spending time with his wife, his son is sure to periodically steal his mother's attention. For example, he might sit between them when they're relaxing or deliberately demand that Mom read him a story instead of Dad. Ruggie just sighs, "Well, you've got quite the character, little bandit..."

Sometimes, he's surprised to see how independent his son is becoming. It fills him with both pride and a slight melancholy, because once this little one held onto his tail, and now he's handling his own affairs.

When his son starts laughing, the sound is a mix of childish giggles and Ruggie's signature "hyena laugh." He's scared people more than once by suddenly bursting into loud laughter at an inappropriate moment. Ruggie just smirks, "Oh, why are you so scared? It's just a kid!"

Ruggie teaches him the main principle: "You can be smart, you can be strong, but it's best to be flexible." He passes on his experience, but also allows his son to make his own mistakes so he can learn from them.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul thought his daughter would be a perfect, obedient child who would share his love for intellectual games and business. However, reality turned out to be more complicated: the little girl was too curious, energetic, and inherited his cunning mind, but was much more free-spirited than he expected.

Azul often tries to act like a strict but fair father, but his daughter has a special talent for disarming him with her spontaneity. If she tugs on his sleeve with a sincere "Daddy, play with me," he, of course, initially feigns displeasure, but eventually gives in, especially if Floyd is nearby and already hinting that "daddy's a wimp."

The daughter inherited his traits: on land, she looks like a regular human, but when she gets wet, she turns into an octopus. This was a surprise for Azul, but he quickly adapted. However, he's very worried about how she'll perceive her dual nature. He remembers suffering from insecurity himself, so he does everything to make his daughter not feel inferior and be proud of who she is.

The first time the little girl realized she wasn't like the other kids on land, she was scared. Azul gently explained to her that it was her strength, not her weakness. Inspired by his own experience, he showed her how to use her extra limbs in the water—for example, to play with multiple toys at once or scare Uncle Floyd.

Azul tends to be overprotective of his daughter, especially when it comes to water. He fears she might be rejected like he was as a child. He even considered limiting her contact with water, but eventually realized it wasn't the solution. Instead, he teaches her to be proud but discreet—"use your power, but don't show it off to everyone."

He started teaching his daughter business skills early. At five, she could already negotiate for extra sweets, and at seven, she could give him such a convincing look that he'd sign a "contract" for an extra hour of playtime before bed. Jade, watching this, once remarked, "Looks like another cunning one is growing up."

Floyd is the uncle who's always fun (and a bit dangerous). He was the first to teach the girl to joke and be a little mischievous. Jade, in turn, taught her patience and manipulation—Azul doesn't like it, but he understands that his daughter's skills can be useful.

Every time the little girl says this, Azul has a bad feeling. It usually means she's found some loophole in the rules, just like he did as a child.

Azul wants his daughter to grow up confident and not repeat his mistakes. He does everything to make her accept her nature and be strong. However, he fears that one day she'll face the same cruelty he did as a child. Therefore, he always reminds her:

"You're special not because you have octopus tentacles or human legs. You're special because you're you."

Jade Leech

From early childhood, Jade teaches his daughter not only etiquette and manners but also the art of subtle manipulation. He tells her how to choose her words, when to smile, and when to remain silent. At the same time, he never forces her to follow his methods—he simply explains how to manage a situation more conveniently, should the need arise.

He's not a strict father, but if someone dares to offend his daughter, he'll act as he always does—calmly, subtly, but inevitably. The offender might not even realize they're being hunted until their life gradually turns into chaos.

From a young age, Jade takes his daughter on hikes through forests and mountains, telling her about rare plants and creatures. He loves to watch her discover the world with delight. However, if someone tries to instill fear of nature in her, he'll only smirk and say, "It's not predatory beasts you should fear, but those who hide behind kind smiles."

Jade always admires his daughter's uniqueness, her ability to change form in water. He doesn't consider it a flaw; on the contrary, he's proud of it and teaches her to be the same. He might ask with a light mockery, "Have you decided where you prefer to live—on land or in water?" However, he never pressures her choice.

When she first transforms into a moray eel, Jade looks at her with a sparkle in his eyes, slowly claps his hands, and says with a gentle smile, "Ah, how lovely. You're simply charming. Want to learn how to hunt underwater?" Then he teaches her to swim, feel the currents, and use her predator instincts.

He explains to his daughter that humans and sea creatures live by different rules. In water, you can follow instincts, but on land, words and subtle maneuvers are important. "It's all about balance, my dear. Isn't it interesting to know when to smile and when to show your teeth?"

His brother, of course, is very fond of his niece and often takes her on chaotic adventures. Jade doesn't forbid it but comments with a light smile, "Just don't let Floyd drag you into some adventure that'll be hard to get out of."

When his daughter first tries to pull off some cunning game or manipulation, Jade, of course, notices. However, instead of scolding her, he nods approvingly and says, "Not bad. But try to make it a bit more subtle next time."

Floyd Leech

Floyd laughed when he found out he was having twins. "Haha, what a coincidence! Or maybe it's fate?~" he joked. But when the children were born, he wasn't laughing anymore—he was completely thrilled. Two little creatures, just like him and Jade once were... only now they were his own children.

Floyd eagerly awaited the children's first contact with water. He knew they had inherited not only his appearance but also his nature. And when it finally happened—their skin covered in patterns, and their legs replaced by flexible moray eel tails—he couldn't help but laugh with joy: "Waaah, there you go! Now you're real little moray eels!~" He proudly swims with them, teaches them to dive and move in water like predators, telling them it's their family's "natural state."

Like Floyd, the children have a capricious nature. One moment they're laughing and hugging, and the next, they're sulking and refusing to talk to anyone. And they both quickly lose interest in things...

Floyd just shrugs:

"Well, that's normal! They're mine!~"

However, even if Jade admits that the children are too headstrong, Floyd only replies:

"Come on, let them enjoy life!~"

As with everyone else, Floyd doesn't use ordinary names for them. For example, he might call them "Little Eel" and "Gill Bubble." If the children try to protest, he just laughs and says they should be grateful they weren't named something like "Tiny Octopus."

Despite his playful and capricious nature, Floyd is a caring father. If the children are unwell, he instantly switches and becomes attentive. If someone offends them—no matter who, child or adult—he'll deal with that person.

"Huh? He upset you? Well, I'll have a word with him...~" he says, his smile turning frighteningly dark.

Although he loves his children, he sometimes acts like he's not their father but an older brother. He might support their pranks, take them fishing, come up with new tricks. If his wife looks at him disapprovingly, he just puts on an innocent face and says, "Well, they need to have fun!~"

When the children are sad or scared, Floyd doesn't comfort them with words—he just grabs them and squeezes them in a tight hug (of course, he controls the strength of the hug). His warmth and closeness quickly restore their good mood.

"Hey, don't mope, my little eel!~"

Kalim Ali-Asim

Kalim is the parent who's always ready to play, come up with adventures, and throw noisy parties for his children. He happily organizes home picnics, jumps on pillows with the kids, pretending to be dangerous sandstorms, and even lets them ride on his back like a camel.

His children never lack anything. Kalim strives to surround them with care and attention, buying them the best toys, sweets, and gifts, just to see them happy. However, sometimes his generosity goes too far, and Jamil (who's still in his life) has to remind him that parenting isn't just spoiling.

Kalim is proud of his sons, even if they're completely different. One might be cheerful and easygoing, while the other is more serious and responsible, but he praises them both equally. He sincerely rejoices in their successes, and even if one of them fails, he supports them with phrases like, "Don't worry, you'll definitely manage! Just try again!"

Kalim simply adores his youngest daughter and always carries her in his arms. She can ask for anything—and he'll fulfill her wish immediately. Sometimes her older brothers even get jealous, but Kalim sincerely loves them all equally. The daughter quickly realizes that Dad is soft and learns to use it to her advantage.

He doesn't like to scold children and, if they do something wrong, he's more likely to explain the situation gently than to punish them strictly. Perhaps because of this, his children sometimes get out of control, but at such moments someone (like their mom or Jamil) has to intervene to restore discipline.

Before bedtime, he tells the children stories about distant lands and magical creatures, sometimes adding elements from his own adventures. He also sings them lullabies, but gets so carried away that the song turns into a real concert with dancing.

If someone offends his child, Kalim is the first to rush to their defense, even if he doesn't fully understand what's happening. He might innocently approach the offender and say, "Hey, let's just be friends, okay?"—but if that doesn't work, he'll do everything to ensure his child doesn't suffer again.

Despite his naivety and clumsiness, Kalim is the kind of father who teaches children to see the good in the world, not to be afraid to dream, and to always remain kind. He wants his children to grow up happy and free, not intimidated or limited by strict rules.

Jamil Viper

Jamil treats his daughter as the most precious treasure in his life. He is ready to turn into dust anyone who dares to offend her, but at the same time he tries not to suppress her freedom. However, if someone even thinks of upsetting her - this person will instantly disappear from his social circle.

He is not the kind of father who will yell or punish with words. He does not even need to do this - one cold look is enough for the child to understand that he has gone too far. However, he is never really angry with his daughter, even if she has done something wrong. He sighs, explains the mistakes and helps to correct them, but inside he is already planning how to prevent chaos next time.

Jamil teaches her everything he knows from an early age. He teaches her discipline, strategy, dancing and even cooking, but he never pressures - if she does not like something, he simply suggests trying something else. However, one thing is a must - self-defense. No one should threaten his daughter, so he makes sure that she can stand up for herself.

Jamil is a master at cooking, and of course his daughter gets the most delicious and exquisite dishes. Even if she accidentally spills spices or spills something on the table, he doesn’t get angry - he just quietly cleans up the mess and continues to teach her how to mix flavors correctly.

If his daughter comes to him with an offended face and says: “Abi, he offended me!”, Jamil will not start a showdown, but this person will disappear from her circle. Before she even has time to understand what happened, the problem is already solved.

Despite all his seriousness, Jamil cannot refuse his daughter. She is the only person in front of whom he loses his restraint. If she asks for five more minutes before bed? Good. If she wants him to read her fairy tales until she falls asleep? Of course. If she wants to sit on his shoulders while he works? Why not.

Jamil never says it out loud, but he is more proud of his daughter than anyone else in the world. Even if she just says something smart or takes a step forward in her studies, he smiles to himself, knowing that she will definitely achieve everything she wants. He will not answer right away. Maybe he will say something neutral to avoid unnecessary conversations. But when he is alone, he always knows the answer. His beloved daughter.

Silver Vanrouge

Despite his tendency to fall asleep at unexpected moments, Silver sincerely tries to be a good father. He listens to his daughter with amazing patience, even if he himself is already on the verge of sleep. Even if he falls asleep next to his daughter, the slightest strange sound or her restlessness instantly wakes him up, and he is immediately on guard.

Even when she was a baby, he often rocked her in his arms. Even as she grows older, he continues to do this, although not as often. He often takes on the task of lulling the baby to sleep, but, as a rule, falls asleep faster himself. Sometimes the daughter just lies next to her and watches her dad already sweetly dozing, and her mother laughs at it.

Silver rarely raises his voice and always prefers to explain everything softly, but if his daughter is in danger, his calmness will instantly be replaced by cold-blooded determination.

He wants his daughter to be safe, so from childhood he teaches her the basics of fencing and defense. Of course, in a soft form - with a toy sword or a wooden stick.

Lilia simply adores her granddaughter, and she reciprocates his feelings. They arrange fun games for her together, and then Silver only sighs tiredly, watching how his father has again taught the baby some “useful” prank.

If his daughter creates a little chaos in the house, he does not scold, but simply carefully analyzes the consequences and, if necessary, gently explains why it is not worth doing.

He is sure that his daughter has inherited her mother's beauty and character, but Lilia always corrects him with a smirk: "She is so much like you!" Despite all his gentleness, if someone offends his daughter, Silver becomes incredibly serious. That same warrior's look flashes in his eyes, and no one doubts that he will do anything to protect her.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Mechanic Eddie? The reader is Eddie’s girlfriend or wife and she’s stopping by the shop cause they have lunch plans. While she’s waiting for Eddie one of the other mechanics (who Eddie cannot stand) starts hitting on her thinking she’s a customer and Eddie gets mad… 👀 and reader and Eddie don’t make it to the lunch plan cause Eddie goes feral 🤭

She’s back at it again with amazing ideas!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, creampie, cockwarming, reader gets hit on by one of Eddie’s employees

The shop is practically empty when you enter it and everyone stops to wave at you, making sure to do so since they all seem to want to kiss up to the boss’s wife to get on Eddie’s good side. And as long as you’re happy, he is. You’re the most important thing in his life so he takes your opinion very seriously. When he opened the shop, he let you pick out a lot of the decorations. And he can’t help but smile proudly when customers compliment the 50’s themed decor that was all thanks to you.

You’re so in love with each other and everyone knows it. All of his employees love you and they’re all so respectful, treating you like they do him. It also helps that you bring them sandwiches pretty much every time you come in.

Rod is the new guy who always flirts with the women who come in, even when they bring along their romantic partners and he’s one more complaint away from being fired. Three strikes and he’s out. He’s got one more left and Eddie really hopes he doesn’t blow it.

But when you show up in your short dress, that promise Rod made to Eddie about being on his best behavior goes out the window. He watches you move through the shop, handing out sandwiches and making conversation with the other employees and he has a one track mind now, completely abandoning his current task as you approach. He thinks that maybe his flirting will finally work out.

He leans against the hood of the car he’s working on, making an attempt to make you notice him and you do, making a beeline for him with your basket of sandwiches. You figure he must be the new guy Eddie’s constantly complaining about and now you’re interested to see if he’s actually as bad as your husband says because he always tends to be a bit dramatic.

You put on your bright smile and hold the basket out to Rod. He happily takes a sandwich then steps forward and makes an attempt to put on a flirty smile. Yours matches his, but he doesn’t know that you’re just trying to be nice.

“I’m y/n,” you smile, putting your hand out for him to shake and he takes it despite all of the grease on his hands. You give it a shake then quickly pull away, already feeling uncomfortable being near the man.

“Rod,” he says with a nod, stepping even closer and now you’re fearing for your safety. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

“I think maybe I should reintroduce myself again,” you reply. I’m y/n, y/n Munson, Eddie’s wife.” You hold up the hand you’ve got your ring on and Rod’s mouth falls open at the giant rock on your ring finger. The thing is so huge that he’s sure he could see it from outer space.

He doesn’t seem to care that you’re married because he’s stepping even closer, causing you to step back again and again until your back hits someone’s chest. Their hand lands on your shoulder and just from the weight of it, you just know that it’s your husband.

“That’s the final straw. I’ve given you plenty of chances to change but I haven’t seen any growth. You have made so many people uncomfortable and now you’re hitting on y/n? Get out.”

Eddie is normally very relaxed so seeing him so riled up is so different. He’s always so sweet to you so this isn’t something you see very often. But when you do…god, you’re nothing but a puddle. The way he’s so angry and on your behalf makes you feel the need to go clean yourself up, just knowing that you’re making a mess in your panties.

“What-”

“Did I stutter? Apologize to my wife and the fuck out!” Eddie’s pointing towards the door and you’re no longer scared but rather turned on by how protective Eddie is of you. You know he was wanting an excuse to fire the guy anyway, but still. He’s always quick to jump to your defense and you feel so loved because of it. He’s your hero until death do you part.

“I’m sorry,” Rod apologizes then makes a scene of leaving the shop, throwing different tools around while screaming expletives and how he’s going to sue for wrongful termination.

You laugh it off, not actually scared anymore as Eddie protectively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. Once Rod is gone, his tired screeching as he pulls out of the parking lot, everyone goes back to work and you and Eddie go to his office, business as usual. It’s just a little blip.

Once safely inside his office, you sit on his desk, admiring the photo he has of the two of you on your wedding day, sharing a kiss. He has copies of that exact photo everywhere, even keeping one in his wallet to look at when he misses you, which is anytime he’s not around you.

You spread your legs and he steps between them. You grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his as he cages you in, pressing his hands against the desk. You both know he needs to get back to work, but the position you’re in and the need is far too strong to ignore.

You watch him slowly sink to the floor, pulling your panties down as he does and once they’re off, he sticks them in his back pocket before discarding your shoes. He then grabs hold of your thighs and pulls you closer, draping your legs over his shoulders. Your dress is pushed up as he kisses up your legs, murmuring what you just know are sweet nothings into your skin.

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you head?” You ask and Eddie can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“But I’m not the one who looks fucking hot today so really, I’m just giving you what you rightfully deserve,” he replies, peppering your inner thigh with kisses before shoving his face into your cunt.

He’s being nothing but gentle, teasing as he goes in with his tongue, putting just a little pressure on your clit as you let out a moan, making sure to get his hair out of the way so it doesn’t interfere with his work. You move it this way and that as he gets more aggressive, biting down again and again. Both of you are grateful that he had all of that soundproof material installed for exactly this reason. Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time that you’ve been in the exact position in this exact setting…

He somehow gets you even closer, pushing his face further into your cunt as your heels dig into his back, moan after moan falling from your lips. The whole thing is making you dizzy just like usual, but this time, you’re on such a high that you feel you’re seeing stars. He’s much more aggressive, more hungry than normal, acting like he didn’t do this exact thing last night when the two of you couldn’t sleep.

You’re close, you can feel it. You’re pulling on his hair and that only encourages him, putting more into it than he ever has and as you reach your orgasm, nothing but his name falls from your lips in a loud, breathy moan which makes him hard as a rock.

He doesn’t even give you time to come down when he comes up for air. He immediately presses his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to his chair. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him.

Eddie grabs hold of your hips, helping your grind against him, making him even harder as you move together. He’s bucking his own hips against yours as he moans into your mouth at the feeling. He think he’s earned a fuck after making you come like he did.

You’re unbuttoning his pants as he rolls the chair back against the wall so it’s less likely to move with your activity. His pants are somehow down in an instant and you’re rolling the condom onto him before topping him, your lips moving to his neck as you begin to ride him. Soft and slow as you kiss his neck, his hands moving up your back and curling into the fabric.

You’re moving slower than usual, not in any rush even though you’re in Eddie’s place of work. That’s not even something that’s on your mind. You’re so caught up in him and the way he makes you feel that you can’t possibly stop now, not for anything.

He’s bucking his hips against yours the best he can, watching you hover over him, showering him with compliments about how he’s your hero and how you can always count on him to save the day. He’s eating it up, both your words and the way you’re moving, wanting to take your time.

It always seems like you both are in a rush just because of how horny you are for each other, but this is different, it’s much more intimate, more loving. He wants to stay like that forever. And even when Eddie is coming, he’s still thinking about how much he doesn’t want to leave.

So you two stay like that for a while, just holding each other until it’s time to go home, your lunch plans- the entire reason you had even shown up-completely forgotten just like always. Now you suppose you just have to make it up to him by skipping straight to dessert.

[luv-lock]

How would each variant of mark be like with their respective alien!reader? The thought that maybe some of the variants would be worse than alien!reader is interesting to think about

Oh, this is a fun one. Each Mark variant has a completely different relationship with their respective Y/N, and honestly, some of them are way worse than her. It’s interesting to see how they interact because the power balance, affection, and overall dynamic shift so much depending on which Mark we’re talking about.

Normal Mark – The Best Version

This is the healthiest version of them. She’s basically an overprotective housewife. She doesn’t want to rule, she doesn’t want to commit genocide, she doesn’t want to be a god—she just wants to protect her husband and kids. That’s it. She follows Mark everywhere, not because she’s clingy, but because she refuses to let anything happen to him, especially when he’s on Viltrum.

She leaves the kids with Debbie, not just for safety but because she trusts her to raise them well and to protect her in return. She sees Debbie as family and wants her to be safe just as much as Mark.

Their relationship is strong. When Mark is exhausted or injured, she’s the one patching him up, holding him, making sure he survives. She’s probably the only one who can relax him when he’s overwhelmed. It’s normal, stable, and honestly the best-case scenario.

Sinister Mark – The Most Messed-Up Pair

This one is insane. She was imprisoned for millions of years before Mark found her, and by then, she was basically feral. Mark knew exactly what she was from the moment he saw her, and instead of trying to fix her, he accepted it. Because he’s just as bad.

They use each other. It’s toxic, but it works. They’re both unstable, both completely off the rails, and somehow, it makes them perfect for each other. The weirdest part? It’s cute in its own horrifying way. They just get each other. Their love language? Cannibalism. They kill together, they eat together, and yeah, she’s always pregnant.

Also, unlike normal Mark, who just holds her or sits her on his lap, Sinister Mark always carries her on his shoulder. That’s basically her throne. She barely ever touches the ground. And when she does? It’s usually because she’s about to massacre someone.

They’re insane, but they’re insane together.

Viltrumite Mark – The Fragile Love

This one is more tragic. His version of her isn’t weak, but she’s sick. She’s constantly tired, barely has the energy to move, but she gives birth to strong children. She’s valuable to him, not just as the mother of his kids, but as his. And because she’s so fragile, he keeps her locked away, completely protected from the outside world.

Mark is terrifying to everyone else, but with her? He’s gentle. He handles her like she’s glass, always speaking softly, always making sure she’s comfortable. She spends most of her time asleep, and when she is awake, he’s there, holding her.

She’s not afraid of him, but she knows there’s no leaving. Not that she’d even try—she’s too exhausted for that. He makes sure she’s safe, comfortable, and untouched by the horrors outside, but at the cost of her freedom. It’s soft in a way, but also completely controlled by him.

Mohawk Mark – The Most Selfish Pair

This one is a total mess. She’s the most childish, most self-centered version of them all. She doesn’t care about their kids, she doesn’t care about Mark’s ambitions—she just wants to enjoy herself. She’s greedy, she wants to be worshiped, and she wants power.

Mark is the one actually doing the work—leading, fighting, handling things—but she doesn’t care. As long as she gets what she wants, he can do whatever. Their relationship is mostly built on sex. She’s hedonistic and just wants to live in excess, indulging in everything she can.

They’re not exactly partners in the traditional sense. She’s more like a goddess, and Mark is the one making sure she stays satisfied. It’s not deep, it’s not meaningful, but it’s exactly what she wants.

Each version is so different, but they all fit in their own ways. Some are soft, some are twisted, some are just completely unhinged, but they all have their own weird logic that makes their relationship work.

[dyingswanpavlova]

Sunshine Of Your Love

Part 1

Pairing: Cho Sang-woo x Gi-hun's daughter!Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Age Gap (Reader is in her early to mid-twenties, Sang-woo is in his mid to late-forties), I will mention warnings in each chapter, but I think in this one there are none so far.

Author's note: I'm still working on Chapter 21 of Your girl, but it might take me a little while to figure it out. Until then, this crossed my mind, based on this request. I love you, guys. 🤍

Divider by @saradika-graphics

"Sunshine Of Your Love" - Cho Sang-woo x Gi-hun's daughter!Reader Masterlist

Cho Sang-woo never considered himself a good person, but there are some lines he isn't willing to cross. He wouldn't ever corrupt someone as trusting and loving as you are. And yet, his feelings for you are getting more and more...complicated.

Cho Sang-woo was many things – a traitor, a liar, sometimes even a coward. But a sleazeball was not one of them.

So, he found himself more than a little troubled, the first time that weird feeling welled up in his chest. Looking back, he had always been a good friend to Seong Gi-hun. During the days of their childhood and their teenage years, he was an honest friend, who more often than not pulled him out of all sorts of complications. He didn’t mind it. He didn’t throw it in his face, either. That’s just not what friends do.

Things went rather smoothly for him, also. He was the darling child after all. Going to university wasn’t exactly something everyone from his neighborhood had managed. But he, he had done it. He finished his studies and he became someone.

What never changed though, was his firm politeness. He respected everyone. His elders, his mother, his old friend Gi-hun.

It didn’t matter how jealous he got of him at times. Not everyone was sought out for a happy family life. He knew that now.

Whenever he watched Gi-hun interact with his wife, every time he met them somewhere or he visited them for a nice, relaxed dinner, he found himself staring. And dreaming.

What could have been?

The way his wife would lightly scold him or nudge him, laugh at his jokes even though they weren’t anything close to funny. The way he got to cradle his little daughter in his arms.

They were fairly young when they had their first and only child. A beautiful little girl, with sparkling eyes and lips twisted in either mischief or kindness. There was no in-between.

The visits, however, became less and less frequent by the time he turned twenty-five. He was close to finishing his studies and his friend, anyhow, seemed caught in his own world. He didn’t need him, right? He had his own perfection created around him, a vision of tranquility and peace.

Until the divorce came.

Sang-woo wasn’t exactly happy about it. It was more a quiet kind of relief. And whenever he caught himself having that feeling, he immediately felt awful afterwards. Like he was the world’s greatest scum. Which he, kind of, was. He knew that. He admitted it to himself. And he hated himself, just the same.

Of course he was there for Gi-hun. He squeezed his shoulder and assured him, he’d get them back. He’d lend him money every so often. Gi-hun even spent quite some time crashing on his couch, before eventually he moved back in with his mother.

Anything to stop the guilt. Anything.

He loved his friend. And he hated himself, because he reveled in his misery.

What kind of friend would do that?

These thoughts were the first of the kind that showed him that he wasn’t really a good person.

There were things he did. He tried to donate money whenever he could, he took care of his mother and overall everything of which he thought a decent man should do.

But it wasn’t enough, was it?

Years passed, almost two decades even, but his guilt stayed firmly in place. With every mean, bad, deranged thought he had, he felt worse. Something was wrong with him. It had to be. He was a man in his prime, he was successful, he wasn’t bad-looking – So, why was he still alone?

He was charming. Every woman he met blinked at him with the same look, mercilessly flirting with him. He could tell when they did, when they swung their hips and smiled over something not quite funny he said.

So, what exactly was stopping him from ever flirting back?

There had been a few embarrassing attempts of course. Returning a smile, a lingering touch. Nothing ever felt right to him, though.

He had relations, physically so. Every now and then and whenever he felt like it. But there wasn’t much to say about that. He didn’t speak with these women, because they all had the same thing in mind. Nothing deep, nothing real, nothing complicated.

It was enough to keep him satisfied for a while. But at some point into his career – the point when everything went to shit, most likely – he wanted more. The release he found did nothing to feed his soul, the encounters not more than a mere exchange of spit and sweat.

It didn’t feel right. He wanted someone to laugh at his jokes. To dab his chin with a napkin, when he was entirely oblivious to the sauce on it and kept making a fool of himself. He wanted them to lean on him, to trust him. He wanted to take care of them. Make someone smile.

Make someone whole.

And for them to make him whole again.

It wasn’t until nineteen years after he finished his studies that he had this chilling encounter. It had been a long day at work, doing God-knows-what, because he was slowly losing count. His life was spiraling upside down and every day he made decisions which might not only cost him his career, but maybe even his life. His integrity was as good as gone.

He wanted nothing more than to see his mother. Something about being close to her, made him feel grounded. She was his conscience in a way. Whenever he felt like he was the worst human alive, she had this way of making him feel like he wasn’t. The kindness in her eyes didn’t vanish, not for him, not for anyone else. The way she spoke of him with such fondness and pride made him equally sad as it made him feel hopeful.

Maybe there was something good to him. Something useful, something kind.

He made his way through the light drizzle. The clouds had made a way of being thick and unyielding, matching his state of mind quite well. He didn’t mind the darkness, he didn’t even mind the cold. He simply pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and hid his face deep in the collar of his coat.

The streets were nearly empty, there wasn’t much going on. Most people preferred warmth and security. He, for one, felt safe in the shadows. Sometimes he felt like he was no more than a shadow himself. It was an odd thought to have, but it summed his entire being up quite well. No one really looked twice at him – at least not, when they didn’t think they could get some gain out of him. But what could he possibly give anyone?

He was polite, yes. Kind, so it seemed. But his mind was a dark place, tormented by years of guilt-ridden thoughts and loneliness.

His head perked up when, instead of only his mother’s humming and her polite squabble, he heard laughter. Hearty, melodic laughter. Was that his mother?

His mother had always been a rather lovely person to be around. He hadn’t ever met anyone who didn’t immediately adore her quick wit and warm smile. She was everything that he wasn’t.

But still, when he saw the silhouette of someone else beside her behind the counter, babbling out silly jokes, he paused for a moment. His mother worked alone, it had always been like this. She was as diligent as anyone could be, especially for her age. He felt relieved though, maybe she had finally taken his words to heart and hired someone to help her out. Not always. Just a few hours every week.

He approached her little shop with slow, measured steps and a slow smile formed on his face.

“Eomma?”

The elderly woman stilled in her movement, though her chest still heaved in heavy amusement and she had a hard time catching her breath. She spun around and her eyes lit up in affection and warmth.

“Sang-woo-ya, adeul.” She circled the counter within seconds and hugged him in a way that knocked the air out of his lungs. He gently wrapped his arms around her and his smile widened a fraction.

“Mother.” He murmured. “Forgive me. It’s been a while.”

She pulled back and shot him a look that was half teasing, half scolding. “Quite a while!” She then gave his shoulder a gentle nudge and turned to the other person behind the counter.

“Aga-ya, I’m sure you must remember my son.”

He followed her gaze and then suddenly…

You.

His eyes widened impossibly behind his glasses, when he caught sight of you. You were no longer the cheeky little brat he had gifted kilograms of sweets. This was impossible. It was untrue.

He recognized your features – your eyes and the way they shone with a little twinkle of mischief, but there was something else, something far bigger.

Warmth. Kindness.

The warmth radiating off of you was nearly enough to make him stare. You were beautiful, but that was no surprise. It had been years since he had last seen you, but even then he knew, you’d be quite the sight once you grew up. And that you had.

He had never, never looked at you with anything but something akin to fatherly admiration – and the small amount of guilt and jealousy that always lingered in his mind, because he desired what Gi-hun had. A family. A purpose. A life.

Even in that moment he didn’t have any lewd thoughts, God forbid. You were just beautiful.

Painfully much so.

“My God-“

“Samchon!”

The way you rushed forward and hugged him like a storm cloud was almost enough to knock him over. He couldn’t help but laugh, as he wrapped his arms around you and held you just as tightly. The sweet scent of shampoo and perfume filled his nostrils, combined with the faint hint of fish of course. He didn’t mind the fish. He never had.

“What on Earth?” He murmured. “Why aren’t you in the U.S.?”

When you pulled back and looked up at him with those shiny eyes and that wide grin, he felt something odd in his chest. Something fiercely protective.

“I was.” You responded in the sweetest voice. “My mother and step-father are still there. Didn’t Appa tell you? I’m going to SNU.”

His eyes widened even more and he needed a moment to understand the meaning behind your words. “But weren’t you going to Columbia?”

The softness in your smile nearly made him melt. “That’s just not where I belong.”

He stared at you for a moment longer, completely dumbfounded, when his mother’s voice brought him back to reality.

“I know you just came, but I’m sure there’s a storm coming up. Would you take her home?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod. “Of course. But what about you?”

She shook her head. “I need to finish a few things.”

Sang-woo frowned and tilted his head to the side. “No one’s buying anything when there’s a storm outside anyway.”

She tilted her chin up, almost challengingly. “Am I the parent or you?”

That made a fond smile cross his lips. “At least call me when you’re done. I’ll take you home.”

She returned the smile and kissed his cheek. “Go, go! And you – take this for your father and grandmother.”

When his mother handed you a bag with likely fish inside and you took it from her with a grateful nod, he was suddenly reminded that you were still there, still clinging to his one arm like a trusting child.

He watched as you gave his mother a kiss on the cheek and the way she watched you with a fondness which was normally spared for only him – and probably the grandchildren she’d most likely never have.

You slipped into your coat and grasped an umbrella from under the counter. He took it from you and opened it, covering you both with ease.

“Where’d you park?” You called out against the growing storm.

“Just down there.” He pointed to the parking lot. His car was the only one there left. He felt a pang of worry for his mother, but he knew how stubborn she was. He trusted her to call him at least.

You clung to him tightly, troubled to hide yourself away under the umbrella, while the small bag with fish swung around in the wind.

He shot you a concerned glance and made sure to take up as little space as possible. Half his face was getting soaked by the rain, but he didn’t mind, as long as it meant you wouldn’t catch a cold. A few moments later you thankfully got to his car. He unlocked it and held the door open for you, watching as you slid inside with little grace. You were shaking like a leaf and he made quick progress, closing the umbrella and swinging himself behind the steering wheel. He quickly turned the engine on and put the heater on high.

“What a plague.” You murmured as you held your hands up against the warmth.

He regarded you with a warm smile, before he pulled off his glasses and tried to wipe them clean.

You looked up and your face twisted in a mixture of surprise and concern. “You’re wet.”

That made him laugh. “Well, yes.”

Your smirk was contagious. “Don’t be such a smarty-pants, will you?”

“Smarty-pants? Did you learn that in New York?” He raised his brows and shot you a mock-scolding look. The way your smile softened made his heart soften as well. “I still can’t believe you’re back. So, you’re staying with your father?”

When you nodded, he released a soft sigh.

“What, he didn’t tell you?”

He regarded you with a soft look, before he put his glasses back on. “Not, because he wouldn’t care. We just…I haven’t spoken to him in a while.”

A look of concern crossed your face, while you watched him pull out of the parking lot. “But you’re still friends?”

“Yes, darling girl. We’re still friends.”

With a soft sigh, you sank back against the seat and grasped the bag in your hands softly.

“So, SNU.” He kept his gaze firmly locked onto the street. He barely even saw anything through the heavy rain. “What caused that? You always said Columbia is your dream.”

“I thought it was. But the States are…different.” You looked at his profile while you spoke in a softer tone. “The people are different. Their values and beliefs. I just felt like I was losing myself there. My roots. I barely even speak Korean anymore.”

He smirked almost imperceptibly. “Yes, I can hear that.”

You laughed at that. “Everyone always says you’re such a sweetheart, but I can see the menace in you.”

He smiled at your confidence. He had always admired it. Even as a little girl, you had been no less than a Sheriff, demanding respect.

“You didn’t change much.”

You shrugged. “I got older.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, but decided against it. Instead he kept his tone casual and polite. How could he banter with you, when he just now saw you again? “How old are you now? Like twenty-three?”

You nodded. “On the dot.”

He shot you a soft smile. “So, how have you been?”

“Exhausted, mostly. It’s a…demanding country. And you?”

You had never been shy. He loved that.

“Demanding?”

You nodded. “But isn’t every country?”

He shrugged and kept his eyes focused on the street, trying to see something through the haze of rain and darkness. He adjusted his slippery glasses every now and then, before he quickly brought both hands back to the steering wheel. “You’re too clever for your own good.”

“Does that surprise you?”

His brows shot up and he couldn’t hold back a huff of laughter. “You’re insufferable. You were always a brat, but it got far worse, now that you’re Miss America.”

You smiled a gentle smile. “I really missed you.”

You said it with such ease. With such trust. It made his heart ache. Here he was, withholding money and committing all kinds of crimes, while you looked at him with nothing short of warmth in your eyes. He didn’t hesitate to touch your hand, a brief and natural brush of your hands. It didn’t make him feel anything else but…home.

“I missed you, too. Your father was going insane without you.”

He heard the wistful sorrow in your voice when you sighed. “I hope you took good care of him.”

That made his brows rise in surprise and something else. Something softer. “Well, I…” But before he could come up with a response, you continued.

“He’s sillier than ever before.” You spoke with painful love and admiration in your quiet, smiling voice. “But I can see that he’s sad. Heartbroken even. I…I didn’t mean to hurt him like that.”

His forehead creased into a frown and he took his gaze off the street in front of you, to regard you with a careful look. “It wasn’t your choice to leave. He knows that. He knows that you would have stayed if you could have. But you were just a child.”

You nodded. “But still. He needed me. And I wasn’t there.”

He slowly returned his gaze to the road. “You needed him just as much.” He murmured.

After a long, heavy silence, you cleared your throat and glanced at him with the same, soft smile that so-often grazed your lips. “I’ve been talking about myself all the time. What about you? My father said your business has been going greater than ever. Is that true?”

A tight knot formed in his stomach as he tried to think of a response. Lying to you felt like an impossible deed. Not because you would have seen through it, but because you were simply so trusting – and he didn’t want to take advantage of that. You viewed him as nothing but good, as you did everyone…when he was so incredibly far from it.

“Ups and downs here and there, but all in all it’s a steady bet.” He murmured.

“I’m glad.” After a beat, you added: “And how have you been aside from that?”

He exhaled slowly through his nose, thinking about it. The last time someone asked how he was and actually meant it, was so long it the past, it might as well have been a dream.

“I’m good. I’m good, darling girl. Thank you.”

The way your brows crinkled showed your concern and how you saw through his weak lie. But you couldn’t just quite accuse him of lying, right?

“I’m glad.” You said again, softer this time, all the while you never took your eyes off him. “You deserve to be happy.”

The words were so simple and yet they made him feel as though someone had just kicked him right in the chest. His grip tightened ever so slightly on the steering wheel. “You’re always so kind.” He said quietly. “Too kind.”

You frowned in response. “There’s a thing such as too kind?”

He smiled and shot you a soft look, relaxing his grip again. You were so stubborn, so willful, so much trouble at times and yet –

You were good. Undeniable. An undying truth. You were good.

Too good for him or anyone else for that matter. Even too good for your own father. The protectiveness he felt didn’t come quiet and gentle, it was an angry force that dragged him into the abyss of his own thoughts.

He had made so many mistakes in his life. But maybe he could make up for some of them if only he helped you to keep your light.

Without a word, he pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. He then turned to you with a soft, thoughtful look.

“Do you still like that one band so much?”

Your eyes lit up. “Arctic Monkeys? Oh, yes. I even saw them live at one point.”

His expression softened. He then reached out a hand and fumbled for something in the glove compartment of his car.

“Ah. Here it is.” He pulled out the CD cover and handed it to you. “I bought this for you. The songs are probably too old for your liking now, but well.”

Your fingers closed around the sleeve with a hesitation that was most uncommon in you. Your gaze fixed on the dark grey cover of the band you had adored for what was most of your life.

“You had this in here all this time?” You asked quietly, your eyes lighting up in a way that made his breath catch in his throat. Where did all this warmth come from? And how was it so contagious?

He smiled and shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. It was supposed to be a gift for your departure, but I didn’t make it in time.”

But your expression didn’t waver. Your gaze flicked from him to the cover and back, your eyes wide in wonder. Just as though no one had ever done anything comparable for you.

That was impossible. Everyone loved you. You were everyone’s sunshine. So, why did this seem like such a great gesture to you?

He observed you quietly, trying to gauge your reaction.

After a moment, a smile tugged at your lips, warm and bright.

“Thank you, Samchon. That means… so much to me.”

He returned the smile.

“Come on. I should get you inside. I bet your father is getting worried already.”

Before he could open the door though, you lunged at him like you had before, wrapping your arms around his neck and tilting your head, resting your cheek on his shoulder. He was caught off-guard for a moment, but he quickly caught himself and wrapped his arms around you again. It felt natural to him. It was natural.

And still it felt as though something had changed, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

After what felt like half a minute, you finally pulled back, the same warm smile on your face and the CD cover pressed against your chest tightly.

“I will think of you when I listen to this.”

It was such a simple thing to say, an innocent phrase like every word that left your mouth.

And yet, it made him feel a certain way – his chest tightened and his fingers curled into a fist, as though he was stopping himself from saying something awkward, as he so often did, when he didn’t keep track.

You wouldn’t mind though.

You never did.

[satoruxx]

ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!

i. 2007

satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.

he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.

satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.

he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.

you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.

ii. 2007

(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.

a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.

"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.

"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."

you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"

he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.

you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)

iii. 2008

satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.

he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.

"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.

"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."

"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."

he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.

you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.

iv. 2007

(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.

nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.

shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."

when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.

then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.

satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.

shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)

v. 2008

it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.

he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.

every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.

you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.

"where's suguru?"

he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.

it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.

"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.

you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.

"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.

"what do you mean, gone?"

satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."

he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.

he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.

when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.

you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.

"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.

you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.

vi. 2007

(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.

you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.

"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.

"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.

satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.

"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."

he grins. "what? can't stay away?"

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."

satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.

but you see right through him, like you always do.

"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."

"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.

"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."

fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.

"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.

you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."

he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"

the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.

he should've gone with you.)

vii. 2012

satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.

it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.

he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.

and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"

your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.

"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.

"nobody." he had answered.

he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"

"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."

you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"

"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.

"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.

satoru's mug shatters against the wall.

the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.

"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."

"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.

his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.

viii. 2006

(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.

even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.

he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.

"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."

shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"

"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."

your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.

the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.

and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)

ix. 2017

satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.

he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.

you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.

it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.

satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.

he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.

"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."

you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"

"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."

there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.

"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.

god he misses you so much.

he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.

"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"

his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.

he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.

you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.

he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.

when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.

satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.

he misses you so much.

x. 2007

(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.

he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.

well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.

maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.

that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.

there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.

they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.

it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.

"what are you doing?"

satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.

"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.

"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.

"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.

satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.

even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.

suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.

suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.

the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.

satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.

only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.

then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.

then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.

just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.

"don't want him to get lost."

xi. 2018

something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.

satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.

but something is wong. he needs to wake up.

the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.

you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.

you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?

you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.

you'll always haunt him.

you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.

for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.

he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.

he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.

your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.

his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.

"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.

"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.

no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.

no more haunting.

there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.

his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

[melminli]

what would it be like to be in a romantic relationship with cho hyun-ju? l headcanons

short summery - a few scenarios about dating the one and only, cho hyun-ju! (w/ fem!reader)

a/n: i’m not a trans person so i obviously can't know what that feels like, but i also never want to ignore that part when writing smth w/ her since it's an integral part of her identity! lmk if there ever is something that i should fix!

dating hyun-ju would probably have to happen either before her transition or quite a while after because she just wouldn't be in the right headspace to meet someone new during the early stages of all that change. it just would be a period in her life where she needs a lot of space and time for herself, so romantic relationships would definitely not be one of her priorities.

however, dating hyun-ju before she starts her transition would give you both several options on how to manage this step in your relationship. firstly, you would have to think about your sexuality a bit, if you haven't already done so. especially, if you would still want to be with her! it would obviously be difficult for hyun-ju to finally decide to come out to you because she loved you and didn't want to risk losing you, but of course, she would still respect any decision you made! sometimes you just have to let go of the things you love, even though it would break her heart if you decided to stay friends. but, either way, she was glad that she could trust you with this!

dating hyun-ju after she came out to you would lead to you helping her as much as you could through the steps of feeling more comfortable in her body and standing by her side after losing family and friends. you were ready for her to share her mental problems and more with you, so that you could support her, but hyun-ju would try to burden you as little as possible with all that stuff. having you by her side was enough for her and she also just didn't like complaining to the one person who made her forget about all the negative things in her life. so, maybe after a while, you two would agree that she should try therapy! it would be something that could reinforce her in a way that she felt more comfortable with when it came to her problems, and it would help her tell you about some things in a way that wouldn't overwhelm you or her.

dating hyun-ju would generally mean that you would always feel safe by her side, not only because she was a very understanding person and a good listener - but also because she was well aware of her own physical strength! there was a time when she was very ashamed of it and it wasn't her fault that society didn't consider muscles and stuff to be 'feminine', but you didn't want her to dislike herself for something that you loved about her. so, you did some research and discovered some great female personal trainers, wrestlers, and the like to show them to her! self esteem wasn't something that could be built overnight, but seeing other women who were like her and confident should still help somehow, right? besides, you two eventually started being fans of these people!

dating hyun-ju would mean that she would unconsciously take care of you in different ways. whether that meant taking you out somewhere or cooking for the two of you. honestly, you would have a hard time returning the favor because hyun-ju would insist that she liked giving more than taking, but she also deserved to sit back and relax sometimes! so, there would be more moments over time when she would let you take the lead and let herself get spoiled a bit.

dating hyun-ju would involve, that you only had to mention something you liked in a conversation once for her to buy it for you. she's pretty observant when it comes to things like that!

dating hyun-ju would mean that when you went to bed at night, you would often have long pillow talks until one of you fell asleep. the length of the conversations always varied, of course, but you both especially cherished the time on days when you were recovering from a busy week. you would just lie close to each other for quite a while, whispering quiet things to each other while the nightlight was on, and find comfort in each other's presence.

[butterflyscribbles]

What do the boys do when it's just them and their mama, maddie?

Sonic:

Spa day no doubt. One Sunday a month they both drop everything and spend the day on self care. She brushes his quills in all the hard to reach spots (lowkey takes him back to when Longclaw used to preen him and he melts) and he practices braiding her hair (Jojo has been teaching him).

They paint nails/claws respectively (Sonic would be lowkey embarrassed and say his claws are naturally that bright green under his gloves if anyone found out but shh their secret). Bundled up in fleece robes and surrounded in warm, sweet smelling soaps n such. Maddie is the only one he actively seeks out to just…..chill with. He will with Tom too but he has more fun out romping and getting into trouble with him. Maddie specializes in helping him slow down and relax because sometimes he forgets to. He’s getting better at yoga too thanks to her help.

Knuckles:

Oh baby he is her shadow…

Once he settles into their home (and finally understands he doesn’t need to protect it from everyday construction workers and door to door salesmen) he is insistent on helping pull his own weight around the house, literally in most cases. He’ll accompany her to the grocery store and help around her office at work. He likes horses a lot. What proud and majestic creatures they are!!

Loves watching her cook and is adamant about helping do so himself, with varying degrees of success. He’s even more into yoga than Sonic too. She also used to read to Sonic when he was first brought in. He kind of outgrew it and Tails tears through their collection on his own. Knuckles however…he cherishes the nights where she doesn’t work late and they can continue their book of the month together. His tribe would tell stories around a fire during colder months and it’s a comfort and ritual he didn’t realize he missed so much.

Tails

Where Knuckles is her shadow trailing behind her, Tails is attached at the hip. When they are alone together it’s infodump time, Maddie with biology/ecology and Tails engineering/aerodynamics. The nerding out overlaps when they talk astronomy. Maddie dabbles in it as a hobby and they study the stars together under her telescope.

Tails loves cleaning if you can believe it. Brings him a sense of peace and meditation which Maddie totally gets. They’ll often tackle a part of the house together, find some random junk in the garage or basement and then spend the next few hours talking about where it came from. Sometimes they take a night to do coloring books, just for funsies. She finds Tails is a quiet artist type on the side.

If she’s got all three for the day, she’ll take em to the skate park to blow off steam. Believe it or not she strikes me as someone who roller skated everywhere in college and still has some moves left, leaving her boys slack jawed in awe.

[bewitched-if]

"A love not so genuine, a love so forced it was made to feel real."

[ DEMO ] ✧ [ RO INTROS ] ✧ [ WORLD LORE ] ✧ [ CWS/TWS ]

Overlooked your whole life, you never had any friends to turn to—except the neighbor's kid, who you could not even call your friend. Even your parents cared about others more than they cared about you. They made it clear that you were the bane of their existence, that they're ashamed to call you their child.

Sometimes, Jules tries to comfort you. They didn't know that they were the reason you were always lonely. Overlooked. Jules embodied perfection, kindness, intelligence—everything you were not. You wanted to be them. You wanted to be loved. Wanted to feel how it's like being the person everyone either wanted to be or to be with.

And now, you find yourself somewhere completely foreign. In a world filled with empires, kingdoms and dukedoms, you were suddenly the beloved heir and child of a highly respected House and Heart Lady's child. You were the so-called saint of the empire, loved and adored by all.

Everything felt surreal, forced. Everyone worshiped you, loved you, no matter what you did, no matter how you acted; they all just turn a blind eye.

You were right.

Stumbling upon an old mage's book, there you face a truth: the body you now inhabit cast a curse—bewitched—everyone—surprisingly affecting everyone but a certain group of people into loving you forever.

What will you do with this discovery? Will you continue to live through this artificial affection? Or will you fight to break the curse, risking everything to free yourself and those around you from this unnatural bond?

In a world where everyone loves you, will you ever find out what true love really means?

Play as male, female, non-binary.

Customize your character, your original body and the child of Heart Lady.

Romance any of the six romanceable options; but earn their trust first.

Find a way to break the curse.

Or maybe even meet the original soul of this body?

Buy interactive drabbles in-game using hair pins. [in the works, more info coming soon.]

✧ These are your victims companions throughout the game. Will you befriend them or will you go for something more?

Juniper de Verburgh: Crowned Heir of Kleian Empire - Embodiment of: Jules : [NB] [RO]

Juniper is the Emperor's child and Kleian Empire's future ruler. They are often considered as angelic, intelligent, and attractive. Everyone either wants to be them, or be with them. Their hair is long, straight and red while their eyes are dark blue with porcelain skin. They remind you of your neighbor's kid, untouchable and perfect. Their personalities are similar too; charming, playful and excessively flirtatious towards you. You would think being engaged to someone will stop them from being touchy with Heart Lady's child, let me tell you something: No it won't. Perhaps, it is because they're affected by the spell? Or are they?

Celeste Roselli: Matriarch of Roselli Manor - Embodiment of Beatrice : [F] [RO]

Celeste took on the role of Matriarch of Roselli Manor after her father’s passing. Since then, she’s grown distant, serious, and almost impossible to approach. Her life revolves around work, her sister, and her responsibilities, leaving no room for rest or relaxation. The vibrant person she once was has faded, replaced by someone barely recognizable to those who knew her before the tragedy. She has long white hair that is ridiculously curly. Her skin is a deep shade of chestnut, while her eyes is glowing red. She reminds you of Beatrice, who was a girl who used to watch you get isolated and overlooked. She made no effort to befriend you, instead watched you get pushed around and left out. She was distant, cold, and shy. Celeste needed someone who she could call her home, her rest. Maybe that could truly be you?

Calliope Roselli: Celeste's Sister - Embodiment of Ophelia: [F] [RO]

Calliope is nothing like her sister. She is stubborn, fierce, and foul-mouthed. She often gets into scandals due to her recklessness and short-tempered nature. It's easy to get on her bad side, and when you do, you're in for hell. She shares her father's short, slightly curly hair and blue eyes, while her skin and hair color mirrors her mother and sister's. She reminds you of Ophelia, who was your ex-best friend and the only friend who betrayed you. Ophelia used to protect you from people, and you're not sure if you're fond of their similarities. Will you tame their fire, or will you get burned?

Rhys Stevyn Nicolei: Duke of Vasina - Embodiment of Feliks: [M] [RO]

If Rhys could pick one person who he hates the most in the whole galaxy; it would be you. You don't know the reason for his hatred, but the original soul must've done something to offend him, and it doesn't help that Rhys is suspicious of you because everyone seemed to love you. Rhys kind of acts like Juniper in a way, flirtatious, known for his hook ups and carefree attitude. Rhys has a neck-length, long braided black hair. His eyes is a deep shade of violet with olive skin. He reminds you of Feliks, who was your older sister's best friend and your rival. You and Feliks always tried to one-up each other, and to be honest, Feliks found solace when he found out you were a sore loser, a loner. It only made him joyful. How far will you go to make sure Rhys does not find out about the spell?

Kieran: Commander of Kleian Knights - Embodiment of Wren: [M] [RO]

As the Commander of Kleian Knights and your bodyguard, Kieran takes his job very seriously. You thought along with the four, that he would be the same and be immune to the spell, but what the hell is this arrangement? The original soul and he have a friends-with-benefits type relationship? Kieran has heterochromia eyes: left eye; gray, right eye; red. His caramel skin is always dirty due to spars, his hair is brown and tied up. Kieran reminds you of Wren, who acted like your protector and close confidant, he always looked at you with longing stares as if he wanted to kiss you. One thing led to another, and you found yourself falling in love and you thought he did too. But joke's on you, he didn't love you. He made a bet with your sister that if he could get you to fall in love with him, your sister would date him. All of it was fake. How are you supposed to know if Kieran is affected by the spell or not?

By falling in love it could either mean: 1) MC fell in love with the idea of being loved, 2) MC had actually fallen in love with Wren.

Zara/Zeke Montclair: The Magician - Embodiment of Zoya/Zivon: [F/M] [ RO ]

Z is known to be quite... an outstanding magician. Often caught causing trouble in many ways, like accidentally setting their own tower on fire, losing valuable items given by the emperor, making kids cry, getting people sick due to their magic... Zara has short lavender hair, while Zeke has a long one. Their skin tan brown, while their eyes are black. Z reminds you of Zoya/Zivon, Your childhood friend who returned to Russia. Zoya/Zivon would always make you laugh when you were sad, always bring you food when you were hungry and starved, would always share their toys with you, would always play with you. Even though they had other friends to be with, they always chose you. But now that they're gone, you probably won't ever experience that happiness ever again. Once the only source of your happiness, now gone.

Kara (rename-able) [IRL] - Your older sister: [F]

Your sister... she's not really the easiest to get along with. Being seen as perfect in your parents' eyes, she got away with everything. Like getting into physical fights with you, humiliating you in public, messing with your stuff, et cetera, et cetera. She makes it clear that she hates your guts, and that she is overjoyed to see you suffer. How would she react when she sees you gone?

Mother [IRL] - Your mother: [F]

Your mother doesn't care about you. Not one bit. She is often away for her business trips, leaving you and Kara alone, but when she does come back, she doesn't even bat you an eye and focuses on Kara instead. She turns a blind eye whenever Kara picks on you, in front of her, unbothered. She probably doesn't even care that you're gone.

Father [IRL] - Your (step-)father: [M]

Your father... you don't have much say on him, honestly. The only time he ever talks to you was when he needs an errand child, or when he joins in on your mother yelling at you for whatever reason. There was one time where your mother asked you to buy things for your sister because she was too lazy, where you walked in on your father making out with some random woman at the back of a 7-11. He threatened to throw away the stuffed bear your biological father gave you if you ever snitched on him. He's probably overjoyed to see you gone.

??? - An otherworldly being: [?]

The voices in your head that make you go crazy, mental, second-guess, commit a crime.

reblogs appreciated <3 | demo: writing prologue; please be patient!

[colossrat]

the beginning is not what it seems, I promise it will be a funny approach Mary: I can’t believe you got a girlfriend and didn’t tell me!!

She’s upset because she and Marvel promised to always tell each other everything, not because of the supposed girlfriend itself

Cap: I don’t have a girlfriend! We’re just talking

Mary: Stop lying to me!! Did you even stop to think what Mom would think about this?!

And by “this”, she means lying to each other, not dating someone.

Cap: You don’t need to remind me, Mary. I was there when I made that promise to her. I’m keeping my word.

It’s been maybe eight years since their mom made them promise to never lie and to stay friends forever. They were around 4 or 5 years old, it was before their parents passed away.

Cap: Mary, please... I’m not lying or hiding anything from you. I was just talking to that lady. I’m not breaking the promise I made to her… I would never do that. Okay? I would never do that to her… or to you.

Mary: Just… tell me things first. I don’t like hearing stuff from other people. They gossip! They’re saying all kinds of things about you.

Cap: And you believed them? Mary, I would never do anything that would hurt you or Mom…

Then they hug, a warm sibling moment where they talk it out and fix the misunderstanding. Mary was a bundle of nerves because it wasn’t the first time Marvel didn’t tell her something first, and she heard about it from someone else. She was scared they were growing apart :(

But here’s the twist:

Some members of the Justice League who were around during this thought Marvel had made a promise to Mary’s dead mother, his ex-wife, that he’d never move on with anyone else. And that Mary keeps holding him to that promise, reminding him of his dead wife and not letting him move on without guilt. Nobody really blames either of them, they understand both sides… it’s complicated.

They start noticing the little things Marvel does. He never, ever, shows romantic or sexual interest in anyone, man or woman. He’s extremely respectful and always careful not to come off as too friendly. Some of the League members start feeling sorry for him. From what they know, Cap is immortal, or at least going to live for a few more centuries, and that’s a long time to be stuck in the past. But some of them understand… sometimes, love is hard to move on from. And there’s Mary, who doesn’t seem ready to see her father with someone else that is not her mom

Later, Flash and Hal not only stop trying to set Marvel up with other heroes, but they even start helping him out when some hero, villain, or civilian tries to flirt with him.

Batman recommends a few therapists for both him and Mary, family therapy, a whole list of suggestions

There was one time they went out for some bonding routine. Marvel didn’t drink (he doesn’t like alcohol), but he was relaxed enough to spill a little:

Marvel: I’ve actually been liking someone lately. nothing serious. They’re just a very kind and smart person and… and I could really see myself with them, you know? But Mary… I don’t think she’d like that. And it’s important to me that if I’m going to have any kind of relationship, she’s okay with it, and that she gets along with them.

And he looks so sad and demotivated… Batman is the first to give him a couple of firm slaps on the back in support.

The reality is that Billy is actually liking someone, but it just so happens that this someone is (reader’s choice) a person Mary absolutely cannot stand. And Billy’s terrified of saying “I’m dating [person]!” and hearing Mary go “OH HELL NO.”

But from the League’s point of view, what they see is Marvel wanting to move on… but being stuck because Mary isn’t ready to move on with him and he’s not willing to leave her behind!

[iidilio]

Day 12: Sylus as a father would be like…

— Okay, but what would Sylus be like as a father?

[ 🌸 ] just sweetness this time, isn’t this cute?

characters: Sylus

warnings: none, just rambling about the leader of a criminal organization being week for his daughter and wife—means that this is fluffy as his hair

More? Here

…

..

.

—Well, well!

—Sylus as a father is a dangerously tender combination. He’s the kind of man who could bring down an entire empire with his own hands, face monsters without flinching… and yet, his greatest weakness is your smile and your daughter’s.

—If you thought Sylus was subtly overprotective with you, just wait until you see him with his daughter. From the moment he held her for the first time, he knew the entire world could burn and he’d only care about keeping her safe.

—But of course,

—he’s not the smothering kind of overprotective—his is quiet, discreet. Always one step ahead of any possible danger, making sure his daughter never has to worry about anything… even if she doesn’t notice it.

—and oh heavens!

—he calls her “princess”, and it’s so damn cute.

—You wouldn’t believe it, but he didn’t plan on calling her that. It just came out naturally.

—His daughter, still small, with your eyes, stared at him curiously.

—With a tenderness rarely seen in him, he whispered, “You’re as pretty as a princess, you know that?”

—You, on the other hand, looked at him almost surprised, but said nothing, simply enjoying the sight of your husband and your newborn daughter.

—When they first placed her in his arms, his crimson eyes locked onto her tiny face with an intensity you’d never seen before and—

—and Isn’t he the sweetest?

—Now,

—even though the nickname “princess” came out naturally, now he means it literally, you know?

—In his mind, she is royalty. Not in a wealth sense (though, being Sylus, of course he has the means to give her the best), but because he firmly believes she deserves respect, protection, and to be treated with the honor she’s due. There’s nothing he despises more than someone disrespecting his girl.

—And you won’t believe me (don’t tell him I said this but),

—he was terrified when he held her for the first time.

—The poor man was so scared of breaking her.

—Because heavens

—He felt that same fear the first time he touched and embraced you.

—And now, he felt it again with this tiny little creature.

—Anyway!

—Can you believe that with you and your daughter Sylus is all softness?

—He’s not mushy or over-the-top, but his indulgence is elegant and subtle. A different tone of voice, a more relaxed body language, lingering gazes full of a love very few ever get to see.

—But with Luke and Kieran? He’s still the same boss as always: sharp, calculated, and with that dry humor that can turn lethal if someone crosses the line.

“Why is it always ‘do it now or I’ll kill you’ with us, but with them it’s ‘kitten’ and ‘princess’?” Kieran muttered.

“Because you’re not my princess,” Sylus replied, not even looking up from his wine glass.

—Sylus… stawp 😭

—Oh!

—At first, Sylus pretends he doesn’t care about his daughter’s plushies.

—Lulu, the stuffed bunny with a poorly stitched eye, is her favorite. He’s still trying to figure out what’s so special about it…

—Maybe he’ll never know, poor Sylus lmfao.

“This is Lulu?” he asked, holding it between two fingers. His daughter nodded excitedly. “Looks like a war survivor.”

—It doesn’t take long before he’s caught casually holding Lulu in one hand while working in his office. His daughter—unfortunately—catches him and points at him with a teasing smile.

“Don’t say anything, princess,” he whispers, but she’s already laughing.

—You and his daughter are the only ones who can bend him so easily. It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is.

“Daddy, can I stay up a bit longer?”

“No.”

“Pleaaaase?”

“…Ten minutes.”

Luke, who’s been in the room the whole time, stares in disbelief. “If I asked for ten more minutes of sleep, you’d send me running laps until I threw up.”

Sylus gives him a warning glare. “Because you’re not my princess, Luke.”

—To everyone else, he’s still the feared leader of Onychinus. But to you two, he’s the man who holds his daughter at 3 a.m. when she can’t sleep, rocking her gently while whispering lullabies.

—He’s not the type of father to impose strict bans. Rather, he’s the one watching quietly from the shadows to ensure his daughter is always safe.

—If someone shows interest in her when she’s older… poor soul. Sylus doesn’t even have to say a word—just seeing how he handles enemies within Onychinus is enough.

—What?

—Playing with Mephisto? Yes, that’s happened. Don’t worry.

—Lmfao

—His daughter loves the mechanical raven and sometimes tries to put ribbons on him.

—Now,

—what’s surprising isn’t that… it’s that Sylus lets her.

“Daddy, do you think Mephisto would look cute if I put a dress and a tiara on him?”

First—a sigh, then a slight smile. “Give it a try, princess.”

Mephisto stares at him as if demanding answers. As if to say with indignant squawks, «Are you really doing this to me?»

Sylus just gives him a meaningful look.

Ten minutes later, Mephisto is wearing a Barbie tiara and a bubblegum pink bird dress.

—The man always goes around with the “I’m not soft” attitude liar.

—Sylus insists his daughter can’t always get what she wants.

—But he’s also the man who lets her ride on his shoulders because she wants to see the world from her daddy’s height.

—The same man who pretends to be busy but is secretly helping her with homework.

—He’s also the one who says “If you buy her more sweets, she won’t eat dinner” while already paying for another bag of candy.

—Or the one who says “She can’t always get her way” and then hands over his leather jacket because she wants to look like her daddy.

—Or says “No more pets,” in a firm tone… while petting the stray kitten his daughter brought home, already planning how to feed it and what date to take it to the vet.

—You, meanwhile, watch him with a knowing little smile. Sylus pretends not to notice how obvious his indulgence is—it’s actually kind of embarrassing.

—In the same afternoon, you can catch him threatening a traitor from Onychinus with an icy voice: “If you think you can play with me, you’re even dumber than I thought,”

—And thirty minutes later, sitting on the couch with his daughter on his lap, listening to her talk about her day with infinite patience. His tone completely different: from cold and deadly to soft and attentive, like a whole different person.

—Sylus works late, but he never goes to bed without making sure his wife you and daughter are okay.

—If he went out for an errand and got home late or the base, haha the first thing he does is sneak into his daughter’s room to make sure she’s asleep and covered up.

—Sometimes, he kisses her forehead and murmurs, “Sleep well, princess.”

—You’ve witnessed this more times than he knows. You don’t say anything, but you always smile when he leaves her room before he comes to you to curls up in your arms.

—No one dares make a joke about the fact that Sylus the oh-so-so-so feared leader of Onychinus is… carrying a teddy bear-shaped backpack because his daughter asked him to.

—No one… except you.

“Kitten, don’t start.”

“Oh, but isn’t it cute that the feared leader of Onychinus is walking around with a bear backpack?”

Sylus shoots you a warning look. But then… a half-smile tugs at his lips.

—Anyway!

—We should seriously worry when someone makes his princess cry…

—Sylus is not the type to react with immediate violence.

—No. He’s much worse lmfao.

—He analyzes, waits, and plans.

—So when a kid at school made his princess cry, he didn’t go looking for a fight with a child.

—Instead, he showed up at the principal’s office with a presence so chilling it froze the entire staff.

—He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t issue direct threats… but the message was crystal clear with: “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

—That kid never bothered his daughter again.

—Lmfao.

—Sylus can handle ruthless criminals, face betrayals, and navigate a world of shadows…

—But everything stops when he hears his daughter’s sweet little voice:

“Daddy!”

—All his men, negotiators, and business partners have learned not to interrupt him when those calls come in.

—No one wants to find out what happens to someone who tries to get between Sylus and his family.

—When he needs to set limits, he does so with a calm firmness that leaves no room for argument.

“Princess, listen to your mommy.”

—And Sylus probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the mere thought of someone hurting you two is enough to awaken the darkest parts of him.

—Anyway!

—Sylus is not a man of grand gestures, but the little things give him away.

—Like when his daughter falls asleep on him, and even though he needs to get up for important matters, he stays completely still so he doesn’t wake her.

—When you find him lying on the rug in her room, your daughter on his chest, with Lulu the bunny plush tucked at his side—you can’t help but laugh.

“You’re the leader of the most feared criminal organization in Zone N109,” you whisper with amusement. “And here you are, trapped under a five-year-old and her stuffed bunny.”

Sylus opens one eye and gives you a tired smile. “The hierarchy in this house is pretty clear.”

—But oh…

—When his little girl said “I love you” at barely three years old, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck…

—Sylus felt something tighten in his chest.

—He didn’t know what to say at first, so he simply hugged her back, closing his eyes with a soft sigh.

—You watched him from the doorway, noticing how his fingers clung gently to her back, like he wanted to stay in that moment forever.

—So yeah—Sylus as a father is the man who could destroy an empire with his bare hands… and yet, his greatest weakness is your smile and your daughter’s. A shadowy leader, a ruthless strategist—but when it’s just you two… he’s simply a husband and a father who’d do anything for his two most precious treasures.

[loverofwomenswrongs]

DON'T ACT SO SURPRISED

****** Pairing: Billie Eilish x fem!reader Words: 1.1K

******

The arena buzzed with excitement as fans filled the stands. Y/n, arriving late, knew there was no chance Billie would spot her by mistake—after all, her girlfriend was notoriously observant, especially when it came to her. She had sent a message pretending to be back in LA, knowing that, under normal circumstances, Billie wouldn't call before the show due to the time difference. 

Just before the opening act, a staff member stepped on stage, catching the attention of the fans who looked around, confused. This wasn’t part of the usual show. The staff member spoke into the mic, “Hey, Melbourne! I know you're probably wondering what's going on right now, but I’m here on behalf of Billie’s team.” Whispers rippled through the crowd, some curious, others concerned. What was happening? Had something gone wrong?

“It’s nothing bad, we just need to ask you a favour. There’s a surprise for Billie at the end of the show, and we’d like you to please refrain from screaming or acknowledging it when you see it. We want her to be completely surprised, so just keep enjoying the show until she notices it, alright? We know you can do it,” the staff member continued.

With that, they exited the stage, leaving the fans buzzing with excitement, knowing that tonight’s show would be unlike any other.

Billie’s team had been careful to ensure she wouldn’t overhear anything backstage. Music blasted loudly as she was kept busy, and they had told her to head to the furthest room for her makeup, claiming it had better lighting. Billie, eager to perform, didn’t seem to notice how strange her team was acting.

As soon as Billie hit the stage, Y/n received a text from Finneas: You can come now. Thank goodness she had booked a hotel near the stadium. A tinted van picked her up, and within ten minutes, she arrived at the venue, greeted by warm hugs and smiles from Billie’s team.

She dropped her things in Billie’s room and quickly grabbed one of the singer’s hoodies to throw on. A member of the sound team helped her get her in-ears ready, and to blend in with the staff, she slipped on a security jacket, pulled a scarf over her face, and topped it off with a hat, hoping to avoid being recognized by fans.

She waited backstage, heart pounding as Happier Than Ever started to play. A real security guard came to escort her to the stage. Y/n moved forward, trying to keep her focus away from Billie, so she wouldn't feel her gaze. The nervous thumping of her heart was so loud, she could hear it over the music.

The guard led her under the stage as the song played on. Once safely out of view, Y/n quickly changed into her stage costume, letting out a sigh of relief. No one had noticed her, or if they had, they were good fans who kept the surprise under wraps.

The moment she had been waiting for arrived when she heard Billie’s voice introducing the last song of the night.

“Wow, Melbourne, you’ve been amazing! I’m so sad it’s ending. These past few weeks in Australia have made me so happy,” Billie said, her voice full of emotion.

The crowd erupted, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile. It had been so long since she’d seen Billie this content. Every time they talked about her time in Australia, there was a relaxed glow on her face.

“Thank you so much. Honestly. This last song is one of my favorites because I wrote it thinking about the most beautiful person I know—someone I miss so much. Y/n, bubs, I know you’re watching... I love you so much.”

Y/n felt a tear slide down her cheek as the crowd went wild. While their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret—fans often saw them posting about each other or attending events together—they kept much of their private lives just that: private. Still, their fans adored them, always respecting their boundaries.

“Now, I want to call my brother, Finneas, to the stage to help me with this last song. Here’s Birds of a Feather—I hope you enjoy it.”

The song began, with Finneas playing guitar, expertly distracting Billie as Y/n made her way onto the stage.

I want you to stay  'Til I'm in the grave   'Til I rot away, dead and buried   'Til I'm in the casket, you carry

As the lyrics filled the air, Y/n climbed the stairs, mic in hand. When she stepped onto the stage, gasps rippled through the crowd. Her voice joined Billie’s, and the singer glanced at her brother, confused. Finneas simply nodded toward Y/n, who was still singing.

Billie turned, almost dropping her microphone in shock as she saw her girlfriend. Her mouth fell open, eyes impossibly wide. Y/n laughed at the reaction, pausing to lean into the mic with a quiet, “Hi.”

The crowd went wild as Billie shook her head, still stunned. Without hesitation, the two girls embraced in a tight hug, the audience cheering them on. Billie spun Y/n around, holding her close as they shared the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Billie’s hand cupped Y/n’s face, her expression one of disbelief. Y/n read her lips as Billie whispered, “How?”

Y/n smiled and whispered back, “Later,” pointing to Finneas, who wore a soft, proud smile. Billie turned and embraced her brother, silently thanking him.

Y/n took the opportunity to speak to the crowd. “Hey, Melbourne! How’s everyone doing? I just want to thank you all for keeping this secret with me. You were incredible!”

Billie, still laughing, added over the loudspeakers, “Wait… you all knew and didn’t tell me? I feel betrayed by my own fans!”

The crowd erupted in laughter.

“Don’t be mad at them, it was my doing,” Y/n replied, reaching for Billie’s hand.

Billie smirked. “Alright… So, shall we give them our song?”

Y/n nodded, placing a kiss on top of Billie’s head and exchanging a glance with Finneas, signaling they were ready to go.

As the song played on, the girls made an effort to interact with the crowd, sharing looks and smiles throughout. Billie often found herself admiring how easily Y/n moved across the stage, despite not being a singer herself. Meanwhile, Y/n couldn’t stop gazing at Billie, sending her playful winks whenever she could.

By the time the final notes of the song played, the two girls met center stage, singing the last lyrics to each other. For a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

I knew you in another life   You had that same look in your eyes   I love you, don’t act so surprised

When the final chord struck, they melted into a tight hug. Billie pressed against Y/n’s chest, inhaling the scent she’d missed so much. The two pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, beaming with happiness. Y/n locked eyes with Billie as she mouthed, “I love you.”

******

Part 2

[lightlybloomed]

When quiet hearts break loudest (J.B)

When news quietly breaks that Joe Burrow and his long-time girlfriend have parted ways, the internet reacts.

It wasn’t the kind of news that exploded. Not at first.

There wasn’t a dramatic unfollowing spree, no cryptic song lyrics posted at 2 a.m, no blurry paparazzi photos of Joe with someone new. Just a quiet confirmation buried halfway down a local Ohio sports report: Sources close to the quarterback confirm that Joe Burrow and his longtime girlfriend have amicably parted ways.

And that was it.

Except of course, it wasn’t.

Because even though she had always stayed behind the curtain—soft-spoken, shy, the kind of person who genuinely didn’t seem to care about the cameras or the chaos—people noticed.

People loved her for it. She was the calm in the storm of his rising fame, the gentle nod in the background at charity events, the girl who clapped quietly from a VIP box while everyone else screamed.

She never posted much. No couple TikToks. No matching outfits. Her Instagram, set to private. Her name? Rarely mentioned.

But fans knew. The way he’d glance into the crowd after a win, scanning for one face. The way he once stuttered and smiled in an interview when asked about “someone special.” She was there—woven into the fabric of his life without needing to shout about it.

So when the breakup finally surfaced, the internet didn’t roar. It sighed. It mourned the kind of love that felt like a secret garden—private, peaceful, and maybe too good for the noise of the world.

“Not Joe Burrow and his girlfriend breaking up… they were the only couple I trusted 😭” — @bengalsgirl94 “She was like… the final boss of lowkey girlfriends. I respected her so much. Hope she’s okay fr.” — @lovelyquiettype “This feels like finding out your grandparents are divorcing.” — @sportssofties

It wasn’t about drama. It wasn’t even about picking sides. It was about the quiet grief of watching something soft end.

There were no public statements. No messy “we still care about each other” Instagram posts with mismatched fonts. Just… silence. The kind that makes you wonder if the love they had was realer than most, precisely because they never had to prove it to anyone.

They reminisce about her thoughtfulness when asked about Joe; “I cared because he cared,” she stated, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I started learning it so I could understand what made him light up.”

She wasn’t built for the spotlight. It made her stomach twist. She’d walk three paces behind at events, always dressed in something simple. But Joe—he’d glance back, make sure she was there. And when she smiled, he relaxed.

And even then, you carry the story with you.

People will speculate. They already are. Some think it was the pressure of his career, others say they simply grew apart.

But the truth is simpler than all that—they ended things because love, even when it’s good and steady, doesn’t always last forever. Not when two people want different futures. Not when one of them is meant for the spotlight, and the other has always shied from it.

They loved each other. That’s not up for debate. But love alone wasn’t enough.

She wasn’t meant to live in the glare of stadium lights and endless cameras. She tried—God, she tried. But every game day came with eyes on her, every post-game photo sparked speculation.

She loved Joe, but not the life that came with loving someone like him. And in the end, she chose herself. Quietly. Bravely.

There won’t be public statements. No soft-launch heartbreaks or PR-friendly “we remain friends.” They’ve said their goodbyes privately, in words the rest of us will never hear. He’s back on the field, throwing passes like nothing’s changed. But it has. You can see it in the way he doesn’t glance at the stands anymore.

She’s gone. And he let her go.

Not all breakups are messy. Some are just the quiet, clean breaking of something that once fit perfectly—and doesn’t anymore.

And this was one of those.

[cupcakelvr]

𝑺𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒌𝒂 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

(Both NSFW and SFW)

Minors n men dni!!

SFW ~

Always up for a challenge. Whether it's a tough mission or a game of cards, Sevika thrives on challenges. She enjoys any situation where she can test her skills and intelligence, and she respects those who can hold their own against her in battle or conversation.

༞

She’s loyal af. Her loyalty to Silco shows how deep her devotion can run. If you're someone she deems worthy of that loyalty, you become a part of her inner circle, which is a rare privilege. Betraying her trust, though, is unforgivable in her eyes.

༞

Our bbg is a night-owl. Sevika thrives at night. Whether it’s late-night patrols or enjoying a drink in a dimly lit bar, she’s in her element when the sun goes down. The night brings a certain calmness that lets her guard down, and those rare, quiet moments are where she’s most reflective.

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Despite her rough exterior, Sevika follows a strict personal code. She believes in discipline and self-control, which is why she takes her training and physical condition seriously. Even when she’s off-duty, she’s never entirely relaxed, always keeping her edge. (She just needs some head.)

༞

If she cares about you, she shows it in subtle ways. She might give you a hard time or tease you, but she’s always watching out for your well-being. Acts of care, like bringing you something to eat or patching you up after a fight, are her way of showing affection. (She will 100% scold you.)

NSFW ~

Here we go with the horny shit..

OUR FAV DOMINANT QUEEN. Sevika has a naturally dominant presence in the bedroom. She’s assertive, in control, and knows what she wants. She’s not afraid to take charge, and she enjoys when you let her lead.

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LOVES HAVING CONTROL. She loves keeping you on edge, alternating between letting you beg for more and giving you exactly what you want when you least expect it. She gets off on seeing how much she affects you. (Dominate me please)

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Aftercare’s different with her each time but one thing she’ll always do is light a cig and share it with you. After that she’ll take really good care of you, she will bring you snacks and water.

༞

While she's dominant, Sevika isn't always loud during intimate moments. She lets her actions speak louder than words, using her body and presence to control the mood. It's the smoldering intensity in her gaze, the way her hands grip you just right, that makes the experience unforgettable

༞

Sevika keeps you on your toes by constantly switching things up. She might start slow and methodical, only to suddenly change to something more aggressive. The unpredictability adds to the thrill, making each experience with her feel fresh and exciting.

I HOPE YALL LIKE IT LMK IF I MADE SOME MISTAKES.

ꨄ