#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.

[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."

[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!

[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.

༞

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.

༞

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)

༞

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

[helenisaweirdo]

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😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹❤️❤️❤️😫😫😫💕💕💕

[eyebagshawty]

Hello! May I request Lae’zel, Karlach, and whoever else you want to write being washed by the reader. I find the idea of bathing and taking care of someone to be really sweet.

Headcanons + Blurbs for Being Taken Care of/Washed by Tav

A/N: Hello! Sorry for just getting around to requests and other things now, the end of the semester got pretty crazy (at least I passed everything !) and now I’m finally able to focus and get out of this rut. Thank you for your patience and I hope you like it!

Characters: Lae’zel, Karlach, Shadowheart, Wyll, Gale, Astarion, Halsin

Part 2

Lae’zel

• When you first offer to wash up with Lae’zel she’s mostly confused and kind of annoyed - there’s already a tadpole in her head, and that’s enough lack of privacy.

• “Chk. At my crèche these things are normal. However, you istiks insist on attaching emotional meaning to such things… no.”

• However the more she thinks about it… you two have shared a bed more than once. She respects you more than the others; when she tells you to speak she also makes sure you know she will listen. She supposes that maybe connection wouldn’t be so bad with you of all people.

• She just walks up to your tent, grabs your hand, and says “Fine.”

You meet her at the waterfront and- is she nervous? Her gaze wavers between you and the night sky, feet firmly planted into the ground and arms across her armored chest. You get most of your armor off, but that last clasp just has to give you trouble. “Lae’zel, could you help me out with this?” It’s silent for a tension filled moment, and you’re about to ask again.

“Chk.” She walks over and with ease undoes the clasp. She’s back to feet firmly planted and arms crossed, only looking at the sky. You unfurl your hair from its practical braid and keep your eyes on her. “I wish I could show you the Tears.” Your eyes widen when you think about the first night she invited you to her bunk, how hard getting used to this unusual plane must be for her. You place your hand on her shoulder and she tenses, but relaxes after she’s brought back to the moment.

“I wish I could see them.” You whisper to her. You ‘help’ her out of her armor (she’s just letting you at this point, she could’ve been out of it in 30 seconds flat) and you both hiss as you enter the cold water. After a soft and asking touch, she allows you to undo her hair and wash it. You gather her hair gently into your hands and have her lean back to the water. As she does, you can see that she clearly hasn’t been this vulnerable in maybe ever. You give a soothing stroke to her scalp and she hums. As you lather the looted soap into her hair and scratch your nails lightly, you hear her sniffle.

“Lae’zel… are you alright?” You stop your ministrations but keep a hand cupped at the back of her neck.

“My-my queen is false. I will never ascend. Tsk’va, I’m an enemy to my kin. I don’t want to be on this plane anymore… I miss the astral. I must fight but I do not know how to keep going.” She quickly wipes her tears and looks at you. “Speak, source of my bruises. I will always listen.”

With her hair looking clean, you slowly move the bar between her shoulder blades and move it in soothing circles. You kiss her temple. “My love, this situation is quite a mess. Tadpoles in our heads, endless injuries, and I cannot imagine what this world must be like for someone who has never been in it. We will get through this. I’m here. I’m yours.” With that she shows an inkling of a smile as she stares into the water in thought. You continue to bathe her with soft kisses in between every swipe of soap along with words of reassurance. You are hers, the source of her bruises.

Karlach

•Once Karlach is able to touch people again, she is ecstatic to wash up with you. She’s barely been able to keep her hands off of you since, so when you offer she squeals.

• “Of fucking course soldier! Who knows, we might even be able to turn that river into a hot spring.” Her eyebrows waggle and your face goes beet red.

• When you meet her she definitely cannonballs into the water and complains when it’s shallow

• “Aw hells, that’s gonna be a kink to work out in the morning.”

• You guys don’t bathe for a good 15 minutes, she’s just kissing you and rubbing your sides and it’s so SWEET

She breaks away from the kiss and wades further into the water. You grab the soap from the grass and follow after, settling your arms around her neck and wrapping your legs around her waist. Her fingers come up to pinch your nose and she flops backwards into the water, leaving both of you sopping wet when she comes back up. “Gods Karlach you’re gonna kill me,” you sputter as you cough out the bit of water that got in your mouth. She pats your back and lets out a full bellied laugh.

“That’s right soldier get it all out,” she grins. You shoot her a playful glare. When your collective giggles finally die down, you bring the bar of soap up to her hair and begin lathering and spreading it with your fingers. Her eyes close with a serene smile. You make sure to get the area around her horns, and she kisses your cheeks as you take care of them. “You know… after Gortash. After… Avernus. Nobody has taken care of me like this in so long. So fucking long.” She sighs as you bring the bar to her neck and chest, taking away the near pints of blood the party had spilled earlier.

“I’ll make sure it never is that way again. I love you, and no matter what happens you deserve to be free from all of this.” You meet her gaze as the bar moves to her shoulders, and you see fear.

“Tav… my heart.” She lets out a choked sob and a tear streams down her cheek that you immediately wipe away. “I finally have you after so godsdamn long, and I don’t want to lose what’s most important. Not again. I’m just so scared.” She breaks down into tears and her skin heats up warmly under your skin. You crush her into your chest and she buries her face into your neck, where you rub soothing circles into her scalp along with kisses.

“You won’t lose me. Whether it be in Baldurs Gate or Avernus, I’ll be here.” She lifts her head and you kiss her nose, where a little flame sparks and then snuffs out. She lets out a soft chuckle as her mood cools. “I promise to you we’re gonna kill that pathetic little fucker and anyone who helped him.” Her lips meet yours and you kiss back with eager passion. As you pull away you go back to soothingly rubbing the bar across the planes of her back.

“Wait- didn’t you grab this soap off a dead guy?! GROSS soldier!”

Shadowheart

•She immediately says no

•Not because she doesn’t trust you, she just can’t swim and finds it a bit embarrassing for her powerful presence

•After you finally convince her it’ll only be where she can stand, she agrees.

• “A bottle of wine, my lover, and a nice grassy beach? It’ll do,” she gives a sarcastic but playful smile.

•You two get plastered on Chultan Fireswill before you hop in

After one last swig from the bottle Shadowheart takes your hand and leads you into the water. You stop at around three feet deep and get to your knees. Her braid whips around her shoulder as she serenely begins to scrub away blood with the soap bar. “I love this silver color so much. It illuminates you as some would say,” you utter softly, and she chuckles. She slowly takes her hair out of the braid’s confines and your jaw drops at how long and pretty it is as it flows down her back. You look pointedly to the bar of soap. “May I?”

She squints at you in playful suspicion then smiles. “You may.” You lather the soap into her hair and she lays her head back into your chest as you scratch lovingly at her scalp. She brings her hand up to your cheek behind her and whispers, “The moon looks beautiful tonight.” As soon as the words leave her lips the wound in her hand opens. She hisses and sits back up. As she looks back to you, her gaze looks broken. “After everything I’ve been through with the dark lady, I don’t think this will ever go away.”

You inch your hand closer to hers, placing your pinkies over each other. “It’s horrible… what she did to you.” She grins bitterly but moves to interlace your fingers, rubbing the back of your hand with her thumb.

“I just wish I could remember any of that horrible stuff. I want to be angry. But mostly I’m only numb. She was… she was everything to me. And although it is horrible yes, it’s all so new. Being away from her.”

She nods in confirmation as you move the bar of soap to her chest, the motions soothing her and making her eyes soften as she watches you. “I understand,” you whisper as you lean up to kiss the shell of her pointed ear. That’s all that needs to be said, Shadowheart thinks to herself. You’ve become more than her greatest companion in her eyes, she trusts you’ll be there through thick and thin. “We’ll just have to make new memories,” you smile, and as you finish rubbing the soap across her body you throw it back to the grass, pulling her into a loving kiss as she wraps her arms around your neck.

Wyll

•When you offer to wash up with Wyll a MASSIVE blush runs across his cheeks

• “Are you sure? ImsurethehornsfreakyououtandtheresbumpsinotherstrangeplacesIdontwantyou-“ he basically starts talking at a mile a minute about how it might be awkward for you

• “Wyll honey, I can just meet you there while you’re already in if that’s more comfortable for you” and you give him a sweet smile and his face goes red AGAIN

By the time you get to the waterfront, you see Wyll propped against a rock, the water resting at waist level with his arms propping him up. You throw him a shy smile. He has a sly grin and nods your way, beckoning you towards him. You twirl your finger and mouth, “Turn around!” He lets out a silent chuckle and turns his head towards the mountains beyond the lake.

You slide out of your evening clothes and grab the soap bar laying on top of your towel. As you wade further into the water you let out a shriek — it wasn’t winter right? Wyll turns around and laughs at the sight; you’re rubbing your arms with chattering teeth. “It is quite frigid tonight, huh? I think I’ve got a cantrip in me for a special someone.”

You look around, bemused, as to how spells could possibly help you out here. Wyll shoots a fireball into the depths of the water, your skin instantly warming up. However, it doesn’t last long as the lake cools back down to freezing. You swim at the speed of light over to Wyll and wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry, I just need something. By the nine hells you think a blizzard would be rolling through,” you laugh. When you’ve warmed up enough, you take the bar of soap and gingerly begin to wash and lather his hair and horns, kissing the scars across his face.

Wyll looks down at you, surprise slathered across his face as you finish up with his head and move to his broad shoulders, kissing everything infernal you can find. “Tav…you like this?” He brings up a hand to your cheek as you continue your ministrations. You cup water in your hands and gently rinse away the soap on his chest.

“Of course I do, Mizora could make you look fully cambion and I would still have the strongest of feelings for you. You’ll always be my dashing, strong, Blade of Frontiers,” you peck his neck with each last word, and he laughs, kissing your forehead with a soft cherishing smile.

Gale

• When you offer to Gale, he gives you the most devious look you’ve ever seen

• He hasn’t been around others for so long till now, much less bathing with anyone, and he’s grown pretty strong feelings for you so he love love loves this idea

• “My dear Tav I would love to! You know how I enjoy your body after a battle, all the sweat covering your skin and the flush of your cheeks”

• He’s not your quietest companion so everybody does hear this and everybody does let out an exasperated groan

• Your face flushes even further than when you asked him and you squeak out an okay and run to your tent

When you meet up with Gale at the waterfront, his tunic is already off, showing his surprisingly wonderful muscles. He kisses you upon greeting, and helps you out of your evening clothes with a soft caress here and there on every part of your body. You grab your soap and lead him into the water, the water being just warm enough for your plans.

He gathers you into his lap, his cheeks a light red as he grins up at you. You lather the soap and scrub it into his hair, listening to his groans and praises as you work. You kiss his cheeks as you move to his chest, and he finally opens his eyes again, looking up at you with those big round puppy eyes.

“This is surprisingly wonderful. I remember doing things like this for her, running water through her hair and lathering the finest oils onto her skin, but she never once did anything for me.” You stop your work, looking up to his eyes with an expression of shock and sadness. His eyes bore just as strongly into yours, and his thumbs rub circles into your hips.

“Gale… you are worthy of being loved. What she did to you wasn’t right — it never was, even from the beginning if I’m getting my facts straight. She isolated and took from you. I never want you to feel like that with me.” You kiss his cheeks and his hairline, and his lips follow yours, chasing to press them together.

They finally do, and his kiss is filled with eager passion, pouring every thought he’s had about you into you. When you pull away he lets out a soft whine, bringing his hand to your neck. “I’m in love with you, darling. And I know and trust that you feel the same, any need of the tadpole be damned.” You smile and begin to continue rubbing the soap into his stomach, but he stops you. He brings his lips to yours once more, and he rolls you over onto your back in the water, letting you prove how loved he is.

Astarion

• His eyes go soft and round when you ask him

• “Really?? Little old me??” Even after the graveyard and all your reassurances, he’s still moving towards actual coupley things

• “You’ve never wanted a luxurious meal and bath together my love?” You take his hand stroke his fingers with care

• If he could blush he would, but he just sputters with the goblet of wine he has

• He collects himself back into charming mode, “Well then, I thought you’d never ask. Come find me when you’re ready.” He kisses your cheeks and literally just walks off into the woods, leaving you standing at the entrance to your shared tent looking absolutely befuddled

When you find him at the hot spring the camp had discovered last night, he’s already in the water with his eyes closed angling his head towards the night sky. His ears twitch as he hears you begin to take off your evening clothes, and his eyes open to look at you with a rakish smile. “Why hello, my treasure. The water feels amazing.” You smile, grab your soap and head in. Immediately you groan with relief, the hot water soothing the aches from your nasty fight with some undead earlier.

Astarion moves closer to you, taking the most warmth he can get. You bring your arms around his neck and just stay there for a minute. He hugs you back, burying his face into the crook in your shoulder. You fingers lightly stroke against his raised scars in a loving motion, and after his breath hitches he melts into your touch, practically purring as you lavish him with affection. When you pull away his loss of heat is devastating. However, he calms down when you begin to wash his hair, scratching at his scalp and running the hot water over his curls.

“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone touch my hair like this,” he mumbles. You kiss his cheek and move the bar to his chest and shoulders, working out any aches and pains he might have.

“Well, now you have me my love,” you whisper, kissing the tip of his ear.

“I just can’t believe that after everything you want to stay. The sky is beautiful tonight, but it is all I will ever know once this mindflayer business is said and done with.” His words are bitter, almost as if he is angry with himself.

“It is all we will know my love. And I’m actually quite the night owl. As much as I love our ragtag group, I’m quite introverted around most of society. Everything is fine,” you kiss his bite marks, the hollows of his cheeks, and finally his lips. He kisses you back fervently, pouring care he was never able to show for anyone else previously. You pull away and finish gently washing the rest of his body in silence. As you prop your neck to the side for him, he looks at you with an expression akin to great offense.

“Darling! I thought you knew me well enough to know the bath is never over after only soap.” He waves his hand over to the small crate of oils he’d brought to the spring. “Now, I’m feeling lavender tonight. How about you my love?”

You give him a beaming smile, wading out of the spring to retrieve it. “Sounds wonderful, my heart.”

Halsin

• You don’t even really have to ask him, he’s just joined you most of the time to protect you

• He doesn’t like you venturing out in to the woods by yourself, because Silvanus help him a lot of people are after you guys

• “Of course my heart — Scratch is licking at his paw a bit so I need to inspect that, but I will join you in just a couple of minutes.”

• With an encouraging woof from Scratch, you caress his shoulder and go to collect your things

You’ve stuffed all the stuff needed for the bath into two large bags, your arms making you crouch downward with the weight. As Halsin walks to meet you he sees this, chuckles, and wild shapes into his bear form. He takes the bag handles into his mouth and nudges your leg with his snout. You pet his head and hop onto his back, him letting you ride on it as you both make your way to the water.

On arrival, you hop off and he drops the items into the grass. As his bear form is used most in combat, you grab out a bottle of soap you’d nicked off of that crazy dog handler in Rivington. You drizzle it all over his fur and gather some of the river water into a bucket. You begin scrubbing the soap into his fur, and he lets out cute little groans and growls. When you finish you dump the bucket of water onto him, and he lets out a noise of surprise. He turns back into regular Halsin, his hair soaked down against his head with playful exasperation.

“My heart, you did not need to release the full power of a waterfall onto me I assure you.” You laugh and beckon him into the water. He wades in and smothers you with kisses.

“Halsin please! I need to breathe!” You giggle, pushing at his chest. He finally settles down, pulling you into his lap.

“Thank you for helping me with the shadow curse. Thaniel he… he needed us. He needed you.” He settles into a somber smile, nuzzling his nose against your temple.

You trace your fingers across his chest, leaving kisses that follow. “I knew the lands needed our help, and I’m glad he’s free from the curse. All we have left is this elder brain, and we can go back to the grove and live in peace.”

He tilts your chin up with his hand, and looks tenderly into your eyes. “I would be blessed by Silvanus to spend my thousands of years with you.” He crashes his lips into yours, one of many you’ll share over the passage of time.

[hoshifighting]

Oi lindeza, como você está? Espero que esteja bem :)

I'm gonna ask this in English because it just make ms sense to me, but could you write about seventeen being in love with a woman who has kinda a masculine energy ? I know, it's weird, but I keep thinking about how they would react if in a certain situations the girl takes the lead like they're supposed to do. Like arguing with a inconvenient waiter or while someone is trying to cross the line with them.

Obrigada ❤️

Seventeen in love with a woman who leads and takes charge

a/n: oii meu amor! estou bem e você? adorei o request, mto criativo!! um monte de beijooos, espero que goste!! ❤️❤️

seungcheol is used to taking care of others, having done so from a young age. when you first stepped in and took control of an unexpected situation, it completely blew his mind. he found it both surprising and incredibly attractive. despite his natural instinct to care for you as his woman, he found himself captivated when you defended him. for once, he could relax and be taken care of.

jeonghan absolutely loves when you take charge. the first time you did, he had stars in his eyes. he adores the dynamic and often sulks playfully, asking you to handle things for him, "Y/N-nie, can you please talk to them? they messed up my order again." "Y/N-nie, the guys are making fun of meee!"

joshua, the quintessential gentleman – okay, everyone knows it!! –, always aims to take care of you. however, his kindness sometimes leads to others taking advantage of him. you stepping in to assertively balance the energy, "no, Joshua. they need to respect you baby!" especially when he's too kind, makes him appreciate you even more.

jun feels shy when you take charge, but he also admires you immensely. when you argued with a rude waiter on his behalf, he was awestruck, feeling like he was watching a lioness protect her ground, feeling incredibly lucky to have you by his side.

hoshi is another one that loves when you take charge. he enjoys watching you handle situations, often making playful 'I told you so' faces to the person causing the problem. "oh really? I can't do that? let me call my Y/N-nie then."

wonwoo is gentle and often too shy to defend himself. he appreciates your protective nature, even if he doesn't always show it. you scolding him for not standing up for himself makes him realize how much you care. "I know I should have said something, but seeing you stand up for me..." he doesn't finish his sentence, but the blush on his cheeks says everything.

woozi prefers to ignore problems, but when you defend him ferociously, he's caught off guard. he might initially tell you there's no need, but inside, he finds it incredibly hot and smirks afterwards. "come on, there's no need to get into it... but thank you."

minghao despite being capable of standing up for himself, loves your protectiveness. your diplomatic skills and ability to resolve the situation calmly leave him in awe. he appreciates the way you ensure his safety, even if he tells you to let things go sometimes. "It's fine, really. but I love how you always look out for me."

mingyu the big boy, feels like he's watching his superhero when you take charge. whether it's handling his documents at a clinic or standing up for him when he's uncomfortable, he loves it. he might not let you pay for dinner, but seeing you ready to do so with your card between your fingers, makes his heart swell.

seokmin sees you as his princess and doesn’t want you to lift a finger. however, he appreciates when you take charge in certain situations. he loves balancing your capable nature with his desire to take care of you. "I know you handle everything so well, but let me do this for you, okay?"

seungkwan loves when you protect him, whether it’s putting your arm around him when someone gets too close or asking someone to lower their voice for him. he finds your assertiveness incredibly charming. "the way you handle things, it's so hot. I feel so lucky."

vernon doesn't mind if you lead or not, but he enjoys telling others about your assertiveness. he loves making comments about how you handle situations, showing his admiration. "my girlfriend’s giving me a ride." or "let me think what Y/N would do in this situation."

chan learns a lot from you about positioning himself. he finds it incredibly hot when you lead and put people in their place. he admires you silently and strives to be like you. "you’re amazing. I hope I can be as strong as you are someday." you're his model, muse, love, inspiration... oh, this boy just loves you soo much! "I always admire you in silence."

[luvzshy]

Billie overhearing her friends make fun of her girlfriend’s stutter and her girlfriend is already shy and her stutter gets worse when she’s around other people (real😭🙋🏻‍♀️) I’m a sucker for Billie protecting her girlfriend🥹

Protecting what matters

The house is alive with the sound of Billie’s friends laughing and chatting, filling the air with a lively energy that makes you feel small in comparison. You’re tucked into a corner of the living room, sipping slowly on your drink, trying to stay unnoticed. Social gatherings like this have always been hard for you, and tonight is no different. Your stutter, which tends to get worse when you’re anxious, feels like it’s lingering on the edge, waiting for any excuse to embarrass you.

Billie’s been keeping an eye on you all night, her gaze soft and reassuring every time she looks your way. She knows how tough these situations can be for you, and she’s always careful to make sure you’re comfortable. But as more people arrive, the noise level rises, and you start to feel more and more out of place.

You decide to stay quiet, blending into the background as best you can. Billie’s close friends sit in a small group nearby, laughing and joking around. Billie gets up to grab something from the kitchen, giving you a small smile before she goes. You return it, even though your chest feels tight.

For a moment, you feel a bit more relaxed, knowing Billie will be back soon. But then you hear it—your name, whispered low between two of her friends. You stiffen, your eyes darting toward them. They’re talking quietly, but loud enough for you to catch bits of their conversation.

“She’s s-so quiet, it’s like she’s n-not even here,” one of them mimics, drawing out the stutter in a cruel, exaggerated way. The other friend snickers, shaking her head.

“I don’t get how Billie puts up with it. That s-stutter,” the first friend continues, a mocking edge to her voice. “Can you imagine trying to have a conversation with her? Must take forever.”

Your face flushes with heat, and you suddenly feel like the room is closing in around you. You can feel your stutter getting worse just thinking about speaking up, but there’s no way you can now. Not after hearing that. You lower your head, hoping to disappear, your fingers twisting the hem of your shirt as your chest tightens with embarrassment and hurt.

In the doorway to the kitchen, Billie pauses, holding a drink in her hand. She had been about to rejoin the group, but the tone of her friends’ conversation stops her cold. Her heart sinks when she hears the imitation of your stutter, and for a second, she’s frozen in place, disbelief flooding through her. She can’t believe her own friends would say something like that—about you, the person she loves most.

Billie stays quiet for a moment, listening as her friends continue, their laughter soft but sharp in its cruelty. Her fists clench at her sides, and she can feel her heart pounding with anger. How dare they? You, who’ve been nothing but kind and patient despite how hard socializing can be for you, who’s always been respectful and sweet to her friends—how could they treat you like this?

Without thinking twice, Billie sets her drink down on the counter and strides back into the room, her expression stormy. She doesn’t care about keeping things civil right now—she’s furious. And she won’t let you sit there feeling like this, especially not because of people who are supposed to be her friends.

“Really? That’s what you think is funny?” Billie’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade, freezing everyone in place. The room goes dead silent as all eyes turn to her.

Her two friends look up, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be overheard. One of them opens their mouth to say something, but Billie doesn’t give them the chance.

“You think it’s cool to make fun of someone like that?” Billie’s voice is calm, but the tension behind it is unmistakable. She takes a step closer, her gaze hard. “You’re talking about my girlfriend. She’s shy, yeah. She has a stutter. So what? That doesn’t give you the right to disrespect her.”

One of the friends tries to laugh it off, raising her hands defensively. “Come on, Billie, we were just joking—”

“No, you weren’t.” Billie interrupts, her tone sharp. “Jokes are supposed to be funny. That wasn’t funny. That was just cruel.”

Your throat tightens as you sit there, feeling both relieved and embarrassed. You hadn’t wanted to cause a scene, but you’re grateful that Billie is standing up for you. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of shame curling inside you, knowing they were mocking something you’ve struggled with your whole life.

Billie turns toward you, her expression softening as she reaches for your hand. “You okay, babe?”

You nod slightly, though your heart is still racing, your body stiff from the tension in the room. You manage a small smile, but Billie knows you well enough to see through it.

She doesn’t let go of your hand as she turns back to her friends. “If you can’t respect her, you can leave. Now.”

The two friends glance at each other, guilt flashing across their faces. They start to mutter apologies, but Billie isn’t interested in hearing excuses.

“I mean it,” she says, her voice leaving no room for argument. “I won’t have people in my life who think it’s okay to treat her like that.”

After a long pause, they both stand up, still looking uncomfortable. One of them tries to offer a final apology before leaving, but Billie doesn’t respond, keeping her focus on you.

Once they’re gone, the room feels a little quieter, the atmosphere less suffocating. Billie sits down beside you, still holding your hand, and pulls you gently into her arms. She presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, her lips lingering for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” she murmurs, her voice full of warmth and care. “I didn’t know they’d do something like that. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

You lean into her, the tension slowly melting away as her presence soothes you. Billie has always been your safe space, the one person who makes you feel like you can handle anything, even moments like this.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice small but genuine. It’s all you can think to say, but Billie smiles, understanding exactly what you mean.

“I love you too,” she says softly, her fingers brushing gently through your hair. “And I’ve got you, always.”

With Billie’s arms around you and the weight of her protective presence, you feel a sense of peace return. No matter how hard things get, you know she’ll always be there to shield you from the world when it feels too overwhelming—and that’s more than enough.

[redr0sewrites]

Sick!Sevika x reader Hcs

🥀A/n: back on my bullshit‼️

🥀Cw: fluff, comfort, kinda angsty but only if u tilt your head, put on glasses, and squint

🥀Character(s): Sevika x reader

sick? her? she still has to do silco's dirty work, she doesn't have time to be sick- or weak in any form

sevika absolutely overworks herself when she's sick, i said what i said. she practically doesn't believe in weakness, and thinks she can just "push through" the natural way

she can be so stubborn about self care, it genuinely makes you want to scream

there isn't exactly good healthcare in the undercity, but she absolutely seems like the type to take 15 advil and call it a day. she might evn try taking shimmer to "boost her immune system" pls stop her

you have to practically force her to bed, sevika could be seconds away from collapse and still claim that she's "fine", but with enough pleading she'd take a break

it isn't long before she just passes out though

at first, sevika would be a liiitle bit irritated at your worries, claiming that she can handle herself, but feels bad once she realizes how much you genuinely care. she does NOT have an appetite when she's sick but would, begrudgingly, at least try to eat if you asked

she gets headaches a lot. this is just a personal hc, but i really feel like she would get a bunch of tension headaches. sevika HATES them so much, and would be really appreciative of massages

its one of the few ways to actually get her to relax when she's feeling unwell, just say a few sweet words and start rubbing her upper back and she'll practically melt (but she'll never admit it ;)

sevika isn't used to having someone take care of her, and will try her best to make it up to you

that being said, she's not above trapping you in bed with her all day for cuddles- she doesn't care about germs, she just wants you close to her

i feel like she wouldn't be the talkative type when she's sick, and would be a lot more affectionate. you are NOT leaving the bed, she's practically clinging to you with her arm thrown over your body

will respect your wishes to not kiss on the mouth, and gives you a lot of forehead and hand kisses

she has an adorable sneeze. i think it's hilarious when tough, strong characters just have this adorable chipmunk sneeze.

pretty pliant when it comes to taking medicine and other forms of healing, and once she isn't sick anymore she definitely pampers you (more than usual) to pay you back

"y'dont have to do that, doll," Sevika murmurs as you massage her neck, her voice raspy from exhaustion. "i know, but i want to," you reply, gently kissing the top of her head as you apply some more pressure to her spine. she sighs, leaning backwards into your touch ever so slightly. the chair she's sitting on creaks as you continue your ministrations, relaxing all of the knots in her muscles and working away at all of the excess tension. Sevika suddenly inhales sharply and you pause, worrying that you hurt her, only for her to sneeze softly. "oh my god Sev..."

"don't start."

"was that your sneeze?" Sevika grumbles, turning away from you as you giggle. "its so cute! who would've known..."

"shut up."

"aww, but you love me, don't you Sev?" Sevika sighs, turning around to face you on the chair. she gently grabs your face, pulling you down to her level where she kisses your forehead. "f'course i do, brat. now shut up and finish my massage, i'm tired." you chuckle again at her prickly attitude before giving a mock salute. "yes ma'am!" Sevika mutters a few words under her breath that sound suspiciously like brat, and not cute, but turns around and eases back into your touch anyways. her back muscles ripple as you supply relief to her sore spots.

fuck, what a woman. how you pulled her you will never know. Sevika suddenly bursts into a coughing fit, chest heaving slightly as she leans forward to steady herself. "shit, that doesn't sound pleasant," you say, and Sevika merely turns and rolls her eyes. "when's the last time you've slept?" you ask accusingly, and Sevika, failing to supply you with an acceptable answer, proceeds to stand up and follow you as you practically drag her to bed.

"you, my dear, need rest". you accentuate the last word, and watch as your lover smirks at you. "only if you join me," she quips, and you don't even hesitate before crawling into bed next to her. your so weak for her, it isn't even funny. Sevika pulls you close, your back up against her chest and her arm thrown across your body. you can feel her breathe on your neck, and you swear you hear her say, "i love you".

"what was that, Sev?" you tease, already feeling exhaustion weigh on your eyelids. "go to sleep," she grumbles, pressing a hasty kiss to the back of your neck.

"i love you too."

guess whos sick rn 😔 i thrive off of reverse comfort it isn't even funny. ANYWAYS hope yall enjoyed!!!!!! i loooove sevika soo much.

PLEEEEEAAAAASE SEND IN ARCANE REQSSSSSS🙏🙏🙏

[oceantornadoo]

hii! can you do what it would be like asking price to put pads on the shopping list?? and then when price goes shopping he has to call you to ask for what size ?? 😭😭 btw i love love your work, hope u had a good day💞.

im pretty sure you're referring to this post but i decided to make this price x reader so :) enjoy!

bsf marriage pact!price x reader, he's slightly creepy but he's sweet (this is actually a bit dubcon but its in good spirit)

you had had a shit day. actually, make that a shit week. emotional the whole time, feeling lonely, depressed, and with the weirdest cravings. right when you were about to call your best friend and rant about how terrible you felt, you had went to the bathroom and- oh.

that explains a lot.

and now here you were, sitting on the toilet for the past ten minutes, contemplating. you were completely out of all period products and your flow was so heavy there was no way you were making it to the store free bleeding or with toilet paper as a makeshift pad. of course, that's when john decided to call you (let's be real, who doesn't take their phone to the bathroom. don't judge.)

"evenin', duckie."

"ugh john, i told you not to call me that. its so annoying."

john grunted a chuckle into the phone, swiping a hand over his beard. "you love it." silence. he could practically hear your eye roll. "dinner tonight?" he was pacing his apartment, uncharacteristic for a man like him. calm, cool, collected. never when it came to you.

"can't, sorry. maybe in a few days." he grunted. "could order a takeaway?" you sighed in his ear, the sound a melody he craved to hear over and over again. on lazy saturdays and in-between small fights over laundry. baby steps, though.

"its just not in the cards tonight, john, i'm sorry." you were never like this, withholding information. even when you cancelled on him, it was with a long-winded explanation with the names of about seven people he didn't know and plans you didn't want to go to. "'s wrong, duck? got a hot date or somethin'?" he mentally crossed his fingers, not allowing a physical expression. he wasn't that whipped. not yet.

"no, im just sick. and tired." his muscles relaxed. he started putting on his boots and grabbed a fleece, something gaz insisted was not too tryhard for someone like him. "i'll run to the store and grab ya medicine, hm? what'dya need?" you sighed again, rubbing your fingers to your forehead. he obviously was not giving this up and you did really need pads...

"ill text you a list when you get there. thanks john."

"anythin' for you, duckie."

list: pads, advil, that one chocolate candy you know i like, something for dinner

shit. price had been with a woman or two, but had never had to buy her pads. of course, he'd never let it get to that stage, not when he had you to take care of. but now here he was, staring at playtex and always and what the fuck was a diva cup? he'd better call you.

"all ok, john?"

"ya didn't give me a color on your pads, duck." you giggled. of course he paid attention to the green versus orange pads.

"its pretty heavy so some of the overnight and extra daytime ones would work." silence.

"...there's numbers." your cheeks warmed. you couldn't believe you were talking about this with john of all people.

"god, john. this feels so embarrassing. so weird to talk about with you."

"why? gotta know this for the rest of my life, duckie." shit. he was referring to that night a couple weeks ago, when you confessed to him you thought you'd never find love. when he said he'd marry you in a heartbeat, just say the word. when you compromised by telling him if you were still single in two years, you'd go to the courthouse then and there. when you didn't see him turn and write the date in phone, just as a reminder.

"5, john. there should be a moon symbol or something. and then 3. should be green, i think?" he grunted an affirmation, putting the respective pads in his cart. he turned around, having said goodbye and ended the call, and was subsequently greeted by three women, staring. paused in their product selection, staring openmouthed at how nonchalant he was about buying pads.

30 minutes later he was at your place, groceries and takeaway in hand as he used his spare key to let himself in. "duck?" all quiet. he stalked through your place and noticed the light on in the bathroom. one, two, three quick knocks. "john?" "'s me. can i come in?" "no i- need you to get me something." he waited patiently. "can you go to my dresser and grab a pair of underwear. something ugly, lots of coverage." who was he to say no to a free invite to your underwear drawer?

john dropped the pads outside your bathroom door and headed to your bedroom. finding your dresser, he had to give himself a second. calm down, old man. they're all clean.

that didn't stop him from sniffing a few, reveling at the scent of your laundry detergent. he almost groaned at the scent, imagining you in them. even in the "unsexy" pairs, your curves clothed in cotton and elastic, wrapped up in a lovely package. all his.

john selected a pair with "lots of coverage", whatever that meant, and headed to your bathroom. he opened the door with ease, setting your pads down on the counter. you shrieked.

"john! im half naked, you need to knock." obviously, the sight of your bare thighs and the top of your mound peaking out was most welcome, but he was more concerned about getting you off the toilet and putting food in your belly. "jus' me, duckie. come on, show me how to do it." he gestured at the pads. he couldn't be serious.

you slowly unboxed them, taking care to cover your naked body as much as possible. even while moving slowly, your shirt still shifted and he caught glimpses of your pretty pussy. an image for another day, when you weren't in pain. he focused on your fingers, deftly putting the pad on your underwear with years of practice. he memorized how you placed the pad, ensuring it stuck to your underwear before tearing the paper off the wings and tucking them on the other side. you looked up at him and he nodded, mission complete. "thank you, by the way." he kissed your forehead, so quick you could have missed it in a blink.

"turn around, i have to put it on." he sat back on his haunches, staring. "go'on. 've gotta learn somehow." you were too tired to care, ready to devour your dinner. you missed his hungry gaze as you revealed your cunt to him, wanting even though it was covered in blood. you missed his fingers twitching as you slowly pulled on your underwear, fabric caressing your skin like he yearned to. you got up, flushed, and washed your hands, missing how he tucked his fingers in belt loops and leaned back into the wall, a move he'd done many times in his tac vest.

"thank you, john. truly." he gave you a grin under the muttonchops, all satisfied. task finished, mission accomplished. you had asked him to do this, a husbandly duty. after you dried your hands, you made a move for the door, but he stopped you with a hand to the jaw. he brushed his beard against you, feeling the shiver in your bones. his mouth hovered near your ear, accent coming out low and sultry. "anythin' for my future wife, duckie."

--

ngl this got a bit weird but i like it??? had to struggle to not lean into my simon riley weirdness tendencies as im still learning john as a character.

[ceilidho]

Ceilidh, I keep thinking about soap and ghost who are absolutely pro omega rights (soap in particular, or at least he’s more vocal about it). Like fuck those old, conservative assholes who think omegas should be seen and not heard, whose only purpose is to lie back, listen to their alpha and take a damn knot when they’re told.

They’ve both worked with omegas that got shit done – civilians AND military operatives, they know better and they’ll damn well shut anyone up who starts spouting that regressive shit.

But their own omega, well that’s a different story. Poor little thing doesn’t know what’s good for her, best if she gets rid of all those silly notions of hers and just let ghost and soap take care of her like they’re s’posed to.

ok in total honesty you almost lost me in the first half because as much as i would love that irl, it doesn't interest me so much in fiction where i want them to be deranged freaks. but you GOT me in that last paragraph.

neither being particularly activistic, but they also don't indulge in the casual omega denigration that some of their colleagues participate in. if an alpha says something shitty while Soap is around, Soap will usually snap back something about how maybe the alpha saying it should take notes from the omega civilian and military operators on base because "at least they're actually proficient at their fucking jobs". he'll genuinely get in fights when his temper flares up just enough - loves sparring when he's taken a particular dislike to someone because it means he has permission to beat the shit out of them.

Ghost doesn't have the patience for verbal fights, but he'll request an immediate transfer of any alpha sergeant or private with the misfortune of thinking that someone of Ghost's stature and size and general look would agree with their primitive beliefs. or he'll riddle them with hard labour and assignments that'll leave them exhausted and broken.

but when it comes to their omega? oh no, she's kept off base in the house they've purchased. they even contemplate retirement after finding her, neither of them comfortable with being away from their omega for extended periods of time. she's taken off her suppressants the second they get her locked up, the two of them helping her work through the withdrawals, getting her nice and relaxed on their knots.

despite the fact that the two of them are alphas, Soap always defers to Ghost, so Ghost is the one that knots her first. Soap gets to work her through the worst of her heats though, stamina letting him go for hours, overstimulating the both of them to the point of pain.

poor girl probably had a job and friends and maybe even volunteered before those two brutes stole her from whatever former life she was living. Soap is so enamoured with her temper tantrums, the way she demands they let her go. pinches her cheeks and coos when she gets worked up to the point of tears. she doesn't understand how they can have so much respect for the omegas in their field while keeping her locked up in their house, but the cognitive dissonance just works for them. their omega is just too soft and breakable to be out in the world (regardless of how tall she is or how she's built, how muscled or tough. to them, she's breakable)

i love writing them as hypocritical assholes :\\\\

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

I Bet You Think About Me

Braden Schneider x Reader x Matt Rempe

WC: 4.7K

Summary: Braden made a decision and he’s dealing with the consequences

A/N: This is gonna have multiple parts and ANGST

Braden Schneider sat at the edge of his bed, his gaze unfocused as he stared at the cluttered room in front of him. The sheets were tangled, a reminder of last night’s brief distraction. Another girl whose name he couldn’t remember, whose face would blur into a long list of hazy encounters. His friends had been insistent — every night they would tell him, “She’s way better than Y/N,” but none of it stuck. No one was better than Y/N, and he hated himself for even thinking that way.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to shake the image of her from his mind. But it was impossible. Two years — two years of her laughter, her smiles, her soft hands wrapping around his when they walked the streets of New York City. They’d built something together, and he’d torn it all apart. She deserved better. She’d always deserved better. And yet, here he was, suffocating under the weight of a choice he wasn’t sure he should have made.

Y/N was always still going to be around, he knew this. Working as the Rangers’ media manager, she was impossible to avoid, and seeing her every day was a constant reminder of what he had lost. At first, he had thought it would be easy to move on. He’d been convinced they were too different. She was a small-town girl, used to the simplicity of life on a farm. It was all living room dancing and kitchen table bills. He, on the other hand, had grown up in a gated community, a life of silver spoons and privilege. It had seemed inevitable that their worlds would eventually clash. But they say you can’t help who you fall for. He’d thought ending it was the right thing. Better to walk away before things got harder, before the differences became insurmountable.

But it wasn’t just their lives that had been different. He had started laughing at her dreams, rolling his eyes at the little things that used to make him smile. He hated himself for that too. He had been cruel in ways he couldn’t take back, and when he ended it, he thought he was freeing them both. She had given him space, both at work and outside of it. She had respected his decision, even though he could see how much it hurt her.

And now… now there was Matt Rempe.

Braden had noticed it slowly at first — the way Matt lingered near Y/N in the locker room, the way he always seemed to be cracking jokes that made her smile, the way they stood just a little too close during post-game interviews. Braden tried to convince himself it didn’t matter. He was the one who had walked away, after all. He had no right to care anymore. But it did matter. It mattered a lot more than he wanted to admit.

At practice, Matt had started to get under his skin. It wasn’t anything intentional, not at first, but seeing him with Y/N every day, watching their easy camaraderie, drove Braden into a frenzy he couldn’t control. He’d begun to get aggressive during drills, checking Matt harder than necessary, throwing his weight around like it was a fight for dominance. The guys had noticed. They made jokes about how Braden needed to relax, how he was getting too wound up over something so simple.

But it wasn’t simple. Not to him.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. He had ended it with Y/N, and now here he was, losing his mind over the fact that someone else was getting close to her. He couldn’t stand the thought of Matt touching her, of hearing her laugh the way she used to laugh with him. He had to pretend like it didn’t bother him, but it was eating him alive from the inside.

Why had he let her go? That thought haunted him the most. The love he was looking for, the thing he was chasing in every meaningless encounter with another girl — it had been right in front of him the whole time. It had been Y/N.

He pulled himself up from the bed, pacing the length of his room as he tried to sort through the mess in his mind. His friends, his teammates, they had all told him that this was for the best. That Y/N wasn’t the right fit for his life, that there were plenty of other girls who could give him what he needed. But none of them knew her like he did. None of them understood the way she could light up a room, how her kindness softened the edges of his life, how her presence made him feel grounded in a way that no one else had.

The truth was, Y/N had been harder to forget than she was to leave. He had thought it would be easy, thought he could just walk away and never look back. But every day, every moment he saw her with Matt, he felt the cracks in his resolve deepening. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to be happy — he just didn’t want her to be happy with someone else.

And yet, who was he to interfere now? He had made his bed, and he was lying in it, tangled in regret and frustration. All the other girls had been distractions, temporary fixes to a problem that went deeper than he wanted to admit. He missed Y/N in a way that gnawed at him constantly, and no amount of casual hookups or parties could fill the void she had left behind.

Practice had been a disaster.

Braden stormed into the locker room, his chest heaving with frustration. The drills had been intense, but not nearly as intense as the fire burning inside him every time he caught sight of Matt. They had been going at it the entire session, tension crackling between them as they clashed during every scrimmage. It wasn’t just competitive anymore. It was personal.

Matt was sprawled on the bench, his long frame relaxed as he tossed his gear into his bag. Braden shot him a glare, but Matt didn’t seem to notice — or if he did, he was ignoring it.

“Dude, what’s your problem today?” Matt finally asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been playing like you want to kill me.”

Braden gritted his teeth. He wanted to say it was nothing, that he was just pushing himself harder, but the words got stuck in his throat. He couldn’t stand how casual Matt was, how unaffected he seemed by everything.

“Just trying to win,” Braden muttered, shoving his helmet into his locker with more force than necessary.

Matt laughed, and the sound grated on Braden’s nerves. “You could try doing that without trying to kill me every time we’re on the ice together. ”

The casualness of Matt’s tone only made Braden angrier. He felt the tension build in his chest, his fists clenching at his sides as he tried to control the urge to lash out. But it wasn’t just about hockey. It was about Y/N. It was about the way Matt always seemed to be in her orbit, like he had some right to be there.

“I don’t need to kill you,” Braden said, his voice low and dangerous. “But you might want to watch yourself.”

Matt’s expression changed, his easygoing demeanor fading as he stood up and faced Braden directly. The locker room was quiet, the other guys watching the tension unfold between them.

“What’s your deal, Schneider?” Matt asked, his tone more serious now. “You’ve been acting like a total prick lately.”

Braden knew he was walking a fine line, but he couldn’t stop himself. He stepped closer, his jaw tight as he glared at Matt.

“You know exactly what my deal is,” Braden said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay the hell away from her.”

Matt blinked, clearly taken aback by the venom in Braden’s words. He frowned, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you serious right now? You’re the one who ended things with Y/N. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Braden’s hands balled into fists, and for a moment, he seriously considered swinging at Matt. But the rational part of his brain told him that would only make things worse — for him, for Y/N, for everything.

“She’s not a game, Rempe,” Braden said through gritted teeth. “Just… back off.”

Before Matt could respond, Braden turned on his heel and walked out of the locker room, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t deal with this anymore. The frustration, the jealousy, the aching feeling that he had made the biggest mistake of his life — it was all too much. He needed to get away from it, from Matt, from the team, from Y/N.

But no matter how far he tried to run, the truth followed him. The love he had been looking for, the feeling he was desperately chasing in all the wrong places, had been right there all along. And he had let it slip through his fingers.

That night, Braden found himself back in the same situation — in bed with another girl, her presence a temporary escape from the mess inside his head. But even as she lay beside him, her soft breathing filling the room, all he could think about was Y/N. It was always Y/N.

The more he tried to forget her, the more she consumed him. Every smile she gave Matt, every laugh that wasn’t directed at him, twisted the knife a little deeper. Braden had never been the jealous type before, but watching someone else take his place in Y/N’s life was unbearable.

He rolled over, staring at the ceiling as the weight of his choices pressed down on him. His friends had been wrong. This wasn’t for the best. Nothing about this felt right. He had walked away from the one person who had ever made him feel like he belonged, and now he was paying the price

The air in the apartment felt heavy, oppressive. The girl next to Braden stirred, shifting closer, but he felt nothing. He was drowning in emptiness. No matter how many people he let into his bed, the void Y/N had left behind swallowed them whole. He wanted to shake the girl awake and tell her to leave, to get out before he dragged her down with him. But instead, he just lay there, motionless, consumed by the weight of his regret.

Braden grabbed his phone from the nightstand, scrolling through old photos of Y/N. He had never deleted them, couldn’t bring himself to. There they were, smiling together on her family farm in the middle of nowhere, the sun setting behind them. He had always hated how different their worlds were, how the simplicity of her life felt like a threat to the carefully curated reality he had built. He didn’t understand back then that it was that simplicity that had been his sanctuary. When all the stress washed away cause he was with her.

They’d danced in her parents’ living room one night after dinner, the dim light casting soft shadows as they swayed to a country song he didn’t even know. Y/N had laughed when he stumbled over the steps, but he could still hear the way she whispered, “You’ll get it,” and the way her fingers had laced through his so effortlessly, like they were made to fit together.

Braden could almost hear her voice, feel the warmth of her hand on his cheek. But now, it was only a memory, fading and blurring like everything else.

With a growl of frustration, he tossed his phone across the room, the sound of it hitting the wall sharp in the quiet. The girl beside him stirred again, this time waking up.

“Braden?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t. Not even close. He could feel her watching him, could sense the confusion in her gaze, but he couldn’t explain it. He didn’t even know her name. She had been just another attempt to forget Y/N, another failed distraction.

“I should go,” she said softly, already sensing the distance between them.

“Yeah… I think that’s for the best.”

The girl got up, collecting her things in the dim light. As she left, the door clicking shut behind her, Braden felt the suffocating loneliness settle back into place. He stared at the ceiling, knowing that it didn’t matter how many girls came and went. None of them would ever be Y/N. He had known that the moment he let her go.

But knowing it now didn’t fix anything. It didn’t make up for the way he had pulled away from her, the way he had dismissed her dreams and her jokes as if they didn’t matter. It didn’t undo the nights when he had rolled his eyes at her, or the cold silence that had grown between them in the last few months. He had convinced himself they were too different, that their worlds couldn’t coexist. He’d told himself that walking away was the right thing to do, that they both deserved better.

But the truth was, he had been looking for a reason to leave. He had been scared. Scared of how much he needed her, how much he had started to rely on the way she made him feel. Y/N had been real in a way that nothing else in his life had ever been. She wasn’t like the girls who chased after him because of his name or his money. She saw through all of that and loved him anyway. And he had thrown it all away.

Now, every time he saw her with Matt, every time he saw the way she laughed and smiled at him, it felt like a punch to the gut. He had no right to be jealous, no right to be angry — but he was. He had thought that once they were apart, he’d feel free. Instead, he felt trapped in a prison of his own making, watching someone else live the life he had discarded.

Matt wasn’t a bad guy. That was the worst part. Braden couldn’t even hate him. He was one of the nicest guys on the team, always joking around and keeping things light in the locker room. But the way Matt hovered around Y/N, the way he made her laugh — it was unbearable.

Braden knew he had to get his head on straight. He couldn’t let this ruin the season, couldn’t let it destroy the bond he had with his teammates. But every time he saw Matt standing too close to her, it set off something deep inside him that he couldn’t control. The anger was irrational, burning hot and fast, and Braden hated it. But he couldn’t stop it.

He was the one who had left. So why did it hurt so much to see her moving on?

The next day at practice, the tension between Braden and Matt was thick enough to cut with a knife. The guys could feel it, sensing that something was off between the two of them. Braden knew he wasn’t hiding it well. His patience was razor-thin, and every time he saw Matt’s easy smile, it made him want to throw down right there on the ice.

Y/N was there too, her presence like a ghost haunting every corner of the rink. She was working, interviewing players, making sure the media was coordinated for the post-practice press conference. Braden tried not to watch her, but he couldn’t help it. She looked so at ease, so damn happy, like she hadn’t just had her heart broken a few months ago. She’d moved on. And he was still stuck.

The practice drills got more intense, the coaches pushing them harder as the upcoming game against a division rival loomed closer. Braden’s frustration boiled over when he and Matt ended up in the same scrimmage group.

They were skating down the ice, Matt with the puck, Braden closing in fast. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the adrenaline and anger mixing into something dangerous. Matt made a move to pass the puck, but Braden didn’t care about the play. He angled his body and delivered a hit that sent Matt crashing into the boards.

The entire rink seemed to freeze.

Matt hit the ice hard, groaning as he clutched his side. The whistle blew, and the coaches yelled for them to cut it out, but Braden didn’t move. He stood there, breathing heavily, staring down at Matt like he was daring him to get back up.

“Gosh, Schneider, what the hell was that for?” Matt spat as he got to his feet, wincing from the impact.

Braden didn’t answer. He just stared, his fists clenched at his sides.

Matt shoved him back, his voice rising. “You’ve been acting like a psycho lately. You want to go? Let’s go.”

Braden took a step forward, ready to drop the gloves, but before anything could happen, the coaches were between them, pulling them apart.

“That’s enough!” Coach barked, his face flushed with frustration. “What the hell is wrong with you two? This isn’t how we play.”

Braden barely registered the scolding. His eyes were still locked on Matt’s, and in that moment, all he could see was red.

“Back off, Schneider,” Matt muttered, brushing past him as the tension slowly dissolved under the weight of the coaches’ reprimand. “I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to get over it.”

As the rest of the team moved back to their drills, Braden skated to the bench, sitting down and burying his face in his hands. He was falling apart, and everyone could see it.

After practice, Braden showered quickly, eager to avoid any conversations with the guys. He was about to leave the locker room when he felt a presence behind him.

It was Y/N.

She stood there, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. Braden’s heart dropped into his stomach. They hadn’t spoken outside of work-related conversations since the breakup, and now here she was, staring at him like she saw right through the mask he’d been trying to wear.

“You need to stop,” she said, her voice steady but firm.

Braden swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Stop what?”

“Whatever this is,” she gestured vaguely toward the ice where Matt was still talking to some of the other players. “I know you’re mad, but you don’t get to act like this. You broke up with me, remember?”

He winced at the reminder, the guilt crashing over him like a wave. “I know.”

“Then why are you acting like you didn’t?” Her voice softened, and for the first time in months, Braden saw a flicker of the girl he had once loved standing in front of him. “You don’t get to be jealous, Braden. You made your choice.”

His chest tightened. She was right. He had made his choice, and now he was living with the consequences.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s eyes softened, but there was a distance there, a wall that hadn’t existed before. “You thought it would be easy, didn’t you? Walking away.”

Braden nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Well, it’s not,” she said, her voice sharp with the pain she had been carrying all these months. “But you can’t just punch your way out of it.”

“I’m sorry,” Braden whispered, the words feeling inadequate, too small to fix everything that had been broken between them.

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, the silence between them heavy and thick with all the unsaid words. Braden wanted to reach out, to pull her close and tell her he was sorry for everything — for laughing at her dreams, for rolling his eyes at her jokes, for making her feel like she wasn’t enough. But the words caught in his throat, and he knew that no apology would ever be enough to take away the hurt he had caused.

“You’re sorry?” she repeated, her voice low and full of disbelief. She shook her head, taking a step back, away from him. “You don’t get to be sorry, Braden. You don’t get to say that now. Not after everything.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “I know I screwed up, Y/N. I just—” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know it would be this hard. I thought… I thought we were too different, that it would be better for both of us if we—”

“If you left me?” she cut in, her eyes flashing with anger. “If you ripped my heart out and walked away without a second thought? Yeah, Braden, that’s really worked out well for you, hasn’t it?” Her voice was shaking now, and Braden could hear the pain buried beneath her anger, a pain that mirrored his own.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly, hating how weak the words sounded, how inadequate they were in the face of everything that had happened.

Y/N laughed bitterly, crossing her arms over her chest. “But you did. You hurt me more than anyone ever has. And now… now you’re mad because Matt and I are friends? You don’t get to be jealous, Braden. You don’t get to care anymore.”

Braden felt the words hit him like a punch to the gut. She was right. He had no right to care, no right to be angry or jealous. He was the one who had walked away, the one who had decided that their differences were too much to handle. But every day, every moment he saw her with Matt, it tore him apart. He hadn’t realized how much he had relied on her, how much her presence had meant to him, until it was too late.

“I still care about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. It felt like the most vulnerable thing he had said in months. “I never stopped caring.”

Y/N’s eyes softened for a brief second, but then her guard went back up, the wall between them growing higher and stronger. “You don’t get to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t get to care when it’s convenient for you, Braden. You don’t get to decide when you want to be a part of my life after you pushed me out of yours.”

Braden took a step forward, his chest tight with desperation. “Y/N, please… I didn’t know it would be this hard. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought we were too different—”

“You were scared,” she interrupted, her voice cutting through his words like a knife. “You were scared of how much you needed me. You were scared of what it meant to actually love someone. So you pushed me away, and now you’re mad that I’m not waiting around for you.”

Her words hit him like a slap to the face, the truth of them sinking deep into his bones. She was right. He had been scared. Scared of how much he had loved her, scared of what it meant to be vulnerable, to let someone into his life who didn’t fit the mold he had been raised to believe in. Y/N was everything he had ever wanted, but he had been too much of a coward to admit it.

“I know,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I know I messed up. But I can’t stand seeing you with him. I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “You can’t handle the fact that I’m moving on? That I’m not sitting around waiting for you to decide when you want me again?” She took a step closer, her voice rising with every word. “You ended it, Braden. You’re the one who said we were too different, that this wasn’t going to work. You made that decision. So don’t you dare try to act like you still have a claim on me.”

Her words cut deep, each one a reminder of the choice he had made, the life he had walked away from. And now, standing in front of her, watching the fire in her eyes as she fought to hold back tears, Braden realized just how much he had lost.

“I know I don’t have a claim on you,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. “But I can’t help it. I miss you, Y/N. I miss everything about you.”

Y/N’s face softened for a moment, but she quickly looked away, shaking her head as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly, her voice barely audible. “It’s too late.”

The words hit him like a dagger to the heart. Too late. He had spent so many nights lying in bed, trying to fill the void she had left with meaningless encounters, trying to convince himself that he had made the right choice. But deep down, he had always known the truth. The love he had been looking for, the one he was desperately trying to find in someone else, had been Y/N all along. And now, it was too late.

Braden swallowed hard, his throat tight. “I didn’t know I could feel like this,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “I didn’t know how much I needed you until you were gone.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes searching his face for a moment. Braden thought he saw something flicker in her expression, something like the love they had once shared. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by the cold reality of their situation.

“It doesn’t change anything,” she said softly. “You made your choice, Braden. And now I’m making mine.”

She turned to walk away, and for a moment, Braden felt the urge to reach out, to grab her arm and beg her to stay, to tell her he would do anything to fix it. But he knew it wouldn’t be enough. He had hurt her too deeply, and now, no amount of regret could change the fact that he had pushed her away when she had needed him the most.

“Y/N,” he called after her, his voice cracking. She stopped but didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry.”

She stood there for a long moment, her back to him, and Braden held his breath, waiting for something, anything that would give him hope. But when she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

“So am I.”

And then she was gone, walking away from him for the last time.

The emptiness that followed Y/N’s departure was unlike anything Braden had ever felt before. It was a void, vast and cold, that swallowed him whole. He had thought that breaking up with her would free him, that it would make things easier. But instead, it had destroyed him.

He didn’t go out that night. He didn’t text his friends to find another girl to fill the empty space beside him in bed. He just sat in his apartment, staring at the walls, replaying every moment he had shared with Y/N in his mind. Every laugh, every touch, every quiet moment they had spent together in her tiny apartment or on her family’s farm.

It had been simple with her. Life had been quieter, slower. It wasn’t the fast-paced, glamorous life he had been used to, but it had been real. And now that it was gone, Braden realized that it was all he had ever really wanted.

He lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling as memories of Y/N played on an endless loop in his mind. He could still hear her laughter, still feel the warmth of her body next to his. But no matter how tightly he clung to those memories, they were slipping away, fading into the background of a life he had chosen to leave behind.

The other girls had never meant anything. They had been placeholders, temporary distractions from the overwhelming pain of losing the one person who had ever made him feel truly alive. But no matter how many nights he spent trying to drown out the emptiness, the truth remained the same: he had lost Y/N, and there was no getting her back.

He thought about what she had said. “You were scared.”

She had been right. He had been terrified. Terrified of how much he needed her, terrified of what it meant to let someone so completely into his life. He had told himself that their differences were too much, that they couldn’t last because their worlds were too far apart. But that had just been an excuse, a lie to cover up the fact that he was afraid of how much he loved her.

And now, it was too late.

A/N: Go to my page for part 2

[meanbossart]

Would DU Drow like being preened, like by astarion or even platonically by a close friend while they have downtime? like in my brain I could see him as being relaxed by Shadowheart absentmindedly braiding his hair or Astarion fussing over the wrinkles in his clothes and smoothing them out? but maybe that’s just me and my general appreciation for ***big masculine dudes letting someone care for them without it affecting their ego or sense of masculinity*** aesthetic

He does enjoy it! Sparingly, thought. While I like to depict the intimate moments between them the most, this is a group of friends that really cherishes every moment of nurture because they are rare. This is specially true between Shadowheart and DU drow, who essentially respect each other's boundaries so much that they end up staying silent at times instead of acting out on their desire to display physical affection. They're very similar, which makes it hard for them to read each other. I think this is also why they wouldn't work as a couple - Astarion is a little pushy with his partner, while Shadowheart thinks DU drow is just fine the way that he is.

But if they're drunk, forget it - instant cuddle pile between the two of them, at least. Astarion isn't so down with the platonic displays of affection but he will eye it from a distance and think it's sweet. He... Really values the fact that DU drow has a friend friend, and not just him.

But sorry, this was an ask about preening LOL both Shadowheart and Astarion are in awe of the softness of DU drow's hair and like playing around with it when said moments arise. Shadowheart just goes out of her way constantly to make sure that he's in one-piece, looking out for injuries that DU drow won't mention and offering to help.

Astarion has his own way of taking care of him, usually by pulling strings and using other people so he can help provide, either by getting them rooms for cheap, baths, clothes, getting them out of bills, etc. His love language is conning LOL

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Gods and Humans reaction to Tesla, Sasaki, Chen Gon, and Buddha with a Wife!Reader like Jessica Rabbit (She has a voluptuous body, speaks in a seductive, breathy voice, very calm, even in danger, brave, quick-witted and having a great singing voice, as she’s a very popular singer)

Despite this though, she’s very loyal and deeply in love with her beloved, who she likes to call her ‘Hunny Bunny’ or ‘Darling’

She also took Zerofuku in as her child, even calling him her ‘Baby Bunny’ and sings him songs to help him sleep or soothe him when he’s upset

She doesn’t care about the catcalls, stares or the lust in others eyes, as she’s only devoted to her love, and doesn’t care about how others think of her, even explaining “I’m not bad… I just look that way”

However a stupid, lecherous god tried to grope her, but before her Love could react, said God proceeded to scream in pain as his hand reveals to have been caught in a bear trap (The ladies could only laugh as even Shiva commented that was a cleaver ‘booby trap’)

-Wowza- that was one of the words that many used to describe you- you were drop dead gorgeous, stunning, sexy, and just so alluring looking that you had heads turning of all genders when you walked by.

-You were a well-known and very popular singer, able to charm anyone with your beautiful, luscious voice, and paired with your looks and sexy nature when you would perform, you had admirers all over Valhalla who would do anything to just be in the same room as you.

-The only downside… YOU WERE MARRIED!!!! It wasn’t fair- someone got to you first and you were completely loyal to your ‘Honey Bunny’ (Love).

-The same eyes that watched you with awe and desire glared daggers in his direction, as they couldn’t fathom that he was married to you, thinking he had tried some underhanded trick!

-While professional but still a little sexy with others, talking with your low breathy voice that seemed to have the spines of men melting, when (Love) came around, you were so open with your affections, rushing over in your heels, hugging him close and covering him with kisses, happy to see him.

-The only other person who would get your highly coveted affections was your adopted son, Zerofuku, whom you called Baby Bunny. He was drawn to you, being able to easily sense you were a good person and he loves your hugs, you were always so warm, and he would proudly wear the proof of your love, your lipstick marks all over his face.

-You were his safe space, he could easily relax when you would sing to him, and if he was ever in his Envy form, while being salty to everyone else, he could never be like that to you. He would accept your embrace and he could just feel his anger melting away.

-(Love) was very respectful of you, if the two of you were out and about together, you would be holding his arm and he would defend you if someone were to cat-call you, calling them out on their disrespectful behavior- you were a stunning beauty, not a dog to be called.

-There were some, those who were jealous of you, who would try to spread nasty rumors that you would use your body to get your way on things, or to seduce others, but those who actually knew you knew that this was the farthest from the truth.

-When Brunnhilde, a good friend of yours, asked you this after she pulled (Love) away to keep him from attacking someone, why you didn’t do more to defend yourself, you just smiled down at her, your eyes half closed, “They can say what they want, I know who I am. I’m not bad, I just look that way.”

-However, you did prove yourself that while you let the words roll off your back, you didn’t let anyone who wasn’t your husband, or your son touch you.

-A lecherous god had seen you and thinking you were an easy mark, he immediately came over, despite it being in broad daylight while you were surrounded by many of your friends and stuck his hand down your dress to cop a feel.

-You had frozen in shock, before a loud SNAP was heard and he howled loudly, pulling his hand out, a bear trap closed around his hand as he was screaming in pain.

-Your female friends all looked proud, giving you nods of approval while many of your male friends were a bit scared, a few asking things like, “Do women really have booby traps like that?”

-You turned with a smile as (Love) hugged you, his head on your chest as he pouted, “That’s for us to know, and for perverts like this to find out.”

-You were a dangerous woman, you had beauty, brains, and so much love for your family. You were truly a work of art.

[deadghosy]

SLYTHERIN BOYS WITH A BLACK FEM!READER WHO IS TALL LIKE MEGAN THEE STALLION

A/N: tbh I randomly had the energy to write this late in night cause Megan is so gorgeous!! I appreciate reblogs, comments, and such as likes. Also I looked up the heights of the characters so I’m sorry this seems weird lol.

Honestly, all the Slytherin boys are tall asf..while you stand at 5’10. (Which is Megan’s irl height.) so you still are tall, just not a full taller height than the boys.

Tom is 5’11. Taller than you by an inch. He doesn’t care about your height or his. But he is impressed at how you do tower over some of the Slytherin girls and Hogwarts girls. He thinks you are definitely worth a chatting to.

Mattheo being 6’1 like Theodore, (I’ve always imagined him to be at least a little shorter than Theo) he likes to think you two can be a good couple. You rejected him of course but hey. At least he respects it. He does find it hot how tall you are against some girls.

Draco is only 5’9, so you’re taller than him by an inch. Personally you still make it seem like he’s shorter than you by a lot which makes him mad. But he can’t stay mad at you since it is kinda funny when you do it. And only you. If someone is else did it, he’s complaining to you completely.

Blaise, he’s 6’3. He’s a practically towering over you a bit. But still, you two are giants to others from afar. Every time you two walk together, there’s gossip about how you two look so cool together.

Theodore, being the tall bastard of 6’1. You two are very close in height. So of course you two are kinda like the tall duo.

And Lorenzo for final finds you very beautiful for a tall woman despite the others. He’s 6’0 (had to look at the fancasted actor height. Don’t judge me 🙁) He’s like a puppy in love with you, following you around and helping you carry your book bags and book. Literally smitten with you. Loves when you call him “baby” and cup his face. It makes him melt so fast.

Personally the Slytherin boys love how cool you are, and how you are a very intelligent person. They are like overprotective brothers and friends to you. Lorenzo is full snake mode when it comes to you. Immediately he wants to poison the people who mess with you like a poisonous snake

Definitely Lorenzo is the one. He’s immediately devoted to defend you from people who dare to make fun of you. They are not going to get at you, or towards you. They have to answer to him. Literally.

God when you do a slick back move line Draco but better….you better pray Lorenzo doesn’t go crazy asf. Cause he actually does. He wants to gatekeep how beautiful you are…but he hates it when other men try to holler at you.

And when they fail, Lorenzo is just smiling like a cheeky bastard.

Mattheo always teases the Berkshire male about how whipped he is for you. And Enzo but admit he is. See you’re an unbothered queen. You let haters lol dumb while karma gets to them.

“Hey big foot!” A girl yelled at you from across the great hall. You were just relaxing with your boys when she yelled. You turned around unbothered and looked ahead of yourself. Not giving a fuck if she thinks she can get under your skin. The riddles narrowed their eyes at the girl meanwhile Draco mumble how his “father will hear about this. Lorenzo is immediately sat up which lead you to put your hand on his arm. Calling him down a bit as he looks at you. “Boys calm down. It ain’t worth a second to get all mad about a bitch who can’t do shit but hate.” You say, smirking. You knew karma was gonna get her way. And it did when she ended up in the hospital wing. The thing was you didn’t do a single thing. Someone did.

Honestly Blaise is the person you allow to put your hair in a protective style. And he loves it. He sometimes brag to the other which made mattheo. Being the cocky one, to go up and not demand. Heavens no, if he had demand you to let him do your hair. You would’ve depulso him across the room and out your dorm. So you taught him how to do your hair.

Blaise and you just relaxing, listening to music as you give him a silk bonnet is definitely something that will happen time to time

Draco and you have self care days which bring you two together a lot.

Honestly with you being nicknamed “titan”, Theo would definitely pick you up. Making you two combined as a ladder. The same goes for Blaise as well.

It’s relaxing all day, evening, and night.

They love you dearly and you love them back.