#forgive me for the lack of activity... >.>

[tv1xx]

*slowly peaks my head in the room* ….Is it good enough for me to post here? Yes? MKAY! I saw this base on Twitter and had to do it! (CRED TO @/emtfira !!!!)

YAP SESSION INCOMING: I AM SOOOOOOO SORRY for my VERY long hiatus. I have been busy with University, life and ya know, the other stuff going around. I will TRY to be more active on here! And yes, I am okay. I have been active on Twitter, and slowly trying to get back into art. I saw this base on Twitter (CRED TO @/emtfira !!!!) and thought of Oliver and Mark. I have been loving season 3! Unfortunately I’m going through art block to wip up anything T_T so I apologize again. Sorry for the hiatus once again. Please take this piece as an apology! Happy season 3!

[seelestia]

got accepted into dream uni!!! ૮ ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ ა

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

So my housemates each have a cat. I will refer to them as That Fucking Creature and Tiny Baby (I definitely don’t have strong opinions on them wdym) and the Fucking Creature wasn’t here for a few days and all of my allergy symptoms dramatically decreased/disappeared. Tiny Baby was still here, I’m just apparently not allergic to her. Furthermore, Tiny Baby has never sat outside my bedroom door (all cats are banished from inside my room bc they are allergens) meowing like a groan tube. Genuinely uncanny similarity to a groan tube.

Also, That Fucking Creature taught herself to do many, many crimes that include, but are not limited to:

Opening doors

Terrorizing Tiny Baby

Sitting on all the non-sit-able surfaces

Teleporting into my bedroom

Screaming for hours

Shredding the door

Deploying knives for no reason

[traumaone]

Immature

pairing: Michael Robinavitch x Senior Resident!Reader

wordcount: 1.8k

warnings: angst, reader is purposefully petty, mentions of robby being an asshole, age gap, mentions of injury (care pile up, car crash), mentions of death

synopsis: Robby loses his temper on you, and you're not quick to forgive, then tragedy strikes, and Robby's not answering his phone

note: some of you may notice that I took down the smut drabble I posted yesterday, I wasn't happy with it, so I took it down, but please accept this in its place. there will be a part two!!

!! not proofread so apologies for any mistakes !!

I’m your attending, and you’re my resident. Act like it.

Robby had spoken those words over a week ago.

It had been in the middle of a close to mass casualty event, a blood soaked emergency room crowded with victims from one of the worst car pile ups you’d ever seen.

You had never performed an emergency c-section before, especially not on someone who had been actively bleeding out. It would’ve taken too long to call an attending in for help, so OB walked you through it over the phone, Garcia assisted, and both the mother and the baby had made it through (relatively) safe and sound. It had been a victory, a save worthy of celebration in the form of too many cocktails, until Robby found out.

He’d given you the grace of scolding you away from prying ears, but that hadn’t lessened the burn. 

Robby had been too harsh, way too harsh.

You lacked discipline, didn’t respect the chain of command, didn’t respect him. When it came down to it, you were too much of a cowboy, too flexible with the rules of medicine. You were ‘too much like Abbot in the worst ways’.

Tears had threatened to spill, burning and insistent, but you’d blinked them back. 

You had avoided his eyes when you’d told him that you had saved more patients today than any other doctor, that you had been the one to pick up the slack when others had faltered, that he had no right to pick and choose when he thought you were qualified enough to handle things on your own.

You had successfully avoided him for the rest of your shift.

Day One

Meet me out front before your shift. Please.

The message comes through just as you leave your apartment building. 

You scare the living daylights out of a flock of pigeons with how hard you slam your door.

You don’t respond to his messages, but you do wait outside the doors to the ED, ten minutes early to your shift, pacing back and forth like a mad woman.

Robby walks up five minutes later, headphones in and sunglasses on. Usually that sight would make your heart flutter, but in this moment, it infuriates you.

“Do you need something, Dr. Robinavitch?” You keep your voice clip, painfully professional.

He flinches, but tucks his sunglasses into the front of his hoodie. “I owe you an apology.”

“Yes, you do.”

Robby sighs. “Tensions were high, I was struggling to keep it together, and I took it out on you. It was completely unfair, and I’m sorry.”

It’s completely genuine, almost heartbreakingly sincere. Somehow, you still don’t completely forgive him.

“Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it.” Not really. “I guess I’ll see you inside.”

You brush past him before he can get another word in.

Robby follows you through the ER, hot on your heels, but you don’t turn around. You ignore the strange look from Lupe, let the door almost smack him in the face on the way through, skip past your usual morning debrief with Dana and head right towards the nearest patient.

You should forgive him, you know you should. It’s not reasonable to stay so angry about something that had been spoken in the middle of a crisis, but in this moment, you don't care.

You were beyond capable, better than most that had come through this program. Abbot had known that the moment he’d met you, and you thought Robby knew, but maybe he didn’t. He deserved to be ignored, shown the error of his ways, at least for the rest of your shift.

Maybe it’s cruel, but you’re feeling cruel today.

Day Three

He walks through the door with two coffee’s. One completely black, his order, and one with two creams and two sugars, your order.

“Abbot told me you came in early this morning, figured you didn’t have time for a coffee.” It’s a casual lie, an excuse to talk. You never drink coffee before noon.

“Thank you, Dr. Robinavitch.” You don’t take the cup from his hand, don’t even look him in the eye.

Once again, it’s cruel. But you’re still feeling hurt, inadequate. 

Robby pushed his way between you and your desk, nudging your chair back just far enough to step between your knees.

“What can I do to earn your forgiveness?” His eyes are unbelievably warm, and it’s almost enough to make you crack.

“You’re forgiven.” You shrug, reaching around him to grab your coffee. “I’m just working on my ‘respect problem’ you had so much to say about.”

“Buttercup, I-”

“It’s Doctor,” You interrupt, pushing up from your chair till the two of you are almost nose to nose. “or my first name, or nothing. Respect goes both ways”

Robby doesn’t back down, and neither do you. It’s tense, probably awkward for many of the nearby bystanders, but it’s the closest he’s been to you in days. He smells incredible, spices, leather, and the slightest hint of antiseptic . He always smells good, but something about being upset with him seems to elevate it.

“Pull it together, you two.” Dana calls out, a phone pinned between her ear and shoulder. “Incoming trauma, two minutes out.”

“On it.” Robby responds, his eyes not once leaving yours. “Buttercup’s leading.”

You all but stomp towards the ambulance bay, annoyance weighing down your shoulders.

“Am I actually leading this, or are you going to take over the minute the patient comes through?”

“Oh, this is all you.” Robby hands are harsh as they tie the back of your gown. “I’m not even gloving up.”

“Let's see how long that lasts.”

Robby, surprisingly, stays true to his word. He hovers by the door, hands behind his back, and doesn't question your decisions. You stabilize the patient in record time, handing them off to the nurses with a strange sense of satisfaction boiling in your stomach.

You turn towards Robby, a cocky smirk on your lips as you tear off your gloves. “See how incredible I am when I’m not being pestered by questions?”

Robby laughs, rough and deep. 

“Believe me,” He whispers under his breath, his eyes locked on you as you practically strut out of the trauma room. “I’m well aware of how incredible you are.”

Day Five

“I’m covering Parker on the night shift for the next couple days.”

Robby pauses. “And who’s going to be covering you?”

“You have Langdon, Collins, Mckay, and Mohan, not to mention King, Santos, Javadi, and Whitaker. You don’t need me here.”

“Sure, but I want you here.”

You frown. “No you don’t. I’m not being nice to you this week.”

“No, you’re not,” Robby agrees. “But that doesn’t mean I want you gone.”

“I appreciate that,” You do, really. “But I want to be gone for a little bit.”

“If Abbot were here he’d be telling us to talk out our problems.”

You laugh. “Then let’s be glad he’s not.”

Day Seven

Two days later, you’re somehow back where you started, covered in blood, surrounded by patients in need of treatment, but Robby’s not there, unreachable, actually, and it’s driving you insane.

Abbot tells you a transport crashed through a nearby cafe, decimated the entire building and grievously injured around thirty people. You ask the name of the cafe out of pure curiosity, and Abbot says The Filter. It’s ridiculously overpriced for drinks that aren’t even that good, but it’s Robby’s favorite.

Every sunday night since you met him, Robby has sat in one of the window seats of that cafe, drinking a cup of expensive tea, and decompressing before heading home. And tonight is sunday night, Robby  just handed his patients over to Abbot, and bid you both goodbye before heading for the same cafe that had just been taken out by a transport, and he’s not answering his phone.

You’ve been unbelievably immature all week, taken out your frustrations on him, and now he might be gone. He might’ve died thinking you hated him.

Medical work is done through deep breaths and the threat of tears. You check every patient's face for too long, hoping not to recognise his features beneath the blood and debrief. He doesn’t come through the ambulance bay, and he doesn’t call.

Once all the patients are stable, Abbot sends you out for air and you don’t fight him. You shed your gown and gloves, slipping your sweater back on, and wander through the maze of gurneys till the fresh air hits your face.

Your throat is so tight you can hardly breath, and still, the screen of your phone is blank. No missed calls, no texts, not even an email.

You can hear the sound of feet scuffing on pavement, but you don’t look up. It’s probably a paramedic returning to their rig, a nurse coming out for a smoke break, a-

“Did you guys get everything handled, or do you still need help in there?”

It’s Robby’s voice, rough, and warm, and so familiar it makes you want to cry, and you do.

“You’re…” Your voice breaks. He’s in front of you, standing tall and completely intact, his brows furrowed in concern and confusion when he catches sight of the tears streaming down your face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

You can only respond in sobs, your chest aching as the tears you’d been forcing back all night finally come free. Robby pulls you against him, his face buried in your hair as he whispers quiet hushes. You cling to him, press your head to his chest and cry even harder when you hear the steady beat of his heart.

“I thought you were dead.” Your words come out in a hoarse whisper, muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

“Why would I be dead?”

“The transport crashed through the cafe you go to every Sunday, and you weren’t answering your phone.” You choke back another sob, desperate to get your words out. “I thought you were going to die thinking I was mad at you.”

“Oh… Oh, I'm so sorry.” He holds you tighter, running a hand through your hair in an attempt to calm you, but it only makes you worse.

“You have nothing to apologise for, I was being ridiculous.” You pull away, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“That’s not ridiculous, I would’ve gone down the same road.” Robby keeps his hands on your shoulders, reluctant to let go of you.

You look up at him, tears brimming your eyes, but you blink them away. “I’m sorry.”

Robby smiles, far too fondly for how you’re guessing you look right now. “I know.”

You stare at each other in a few seconds of comfortable silence before speaking again. “Everything’s mostly handled inside, we just have to get our shit together and prepare for the rest of the night.”

“I’ll come inside and help.” 

“You don’t need to.” You try to argue, but it’s half-hearted.

“I know,” Robby nods, his hand lifting to wipe a few stray tears from your cheek. “But I want to.”

[angelellipsis-devilofdots]

since taylor swift's definition of "feminine rage" is normalizing cheating, romanticizing ableism and mental illness, and immaturely whining about exes, here's some recommendations of my favorite actual feminine rage songs

trigger warning for abuse, violence, alcoholism, and rape/sa

as good a reason by paris paloma: alternative, indie pop. themes include body image, learning self love, imbalance of power, and fuck the patriarchy vibes

bitter medicine by the crane wives: alternative/indie rock. themes include high responsibility, the consequences of expressing anger as a woman, and self-resentment

blood in the wine by aurora: pop rock. themes include religious trauma, overcoming guilt and shame, embracing human nature, and defying societal norms related to pleasure (sexual and otherwise)

burn your village by kiki rockwell: alternative/indie rock. themes include sexual assault and rape-related trauma, coming to terms with trauma, revenge, high expectations, and witch hunts

everybody supports women by sofia isella: alternative, electronic. themes include societal hypocrisy, unrealistic standards placed on women, and society scrutinizing individuality

labour by paris paloma: alternative, indie pop. themes include unrealistic expectations/standards for women, burnout, emotional stress, and imbalanced relationships

pray by the amazing devil: melodramatic, theatrical, alt-folk. themes include religious trauma, religious power imbalances, oppression of women in religion, overcoming trauma, and self-forgiveness

scars by the crane wives: alternative/indie rock. themes include childhood trauma, mental health/mental illness, self-doubt, and self-resentment

take me to war by the crane wives: alternative/indie rock. themes include fighting bigotry, activism, allowing oneself to express anger and rage, and power imbalances

that unwanted animal by the amazing devil: melodramatic, theatrical, alt-folk. themes include domestic violence and abuse, lack of communication, unhealthy/broken relationships, sexual expectations, and emotional instability

the calling by the amazing devil: melodramatic, theatrical, alt-folk. themes include lifelong trauma, mental health/mental illness, alcoholism, heartbreak and depression, coming to terms with trauma, and self-reflection

the fruits by paris paloma: alt-folk, indie pop. themes include religious trauma, manipulative and abusive relationships, and overcoming trauma

which witch by florence + the machine: alternative/indie pop. themes include witch hunts, revenge, defying societal norms, and unhealthy/unstable relationships

i'm sure there are more in my playlists but this is all i can remember off the top of my head at the moment. i'll edit if i think of more. enjoy xx

[matsunoluvr]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when the love and deepspace boys get jealous

warnings: pouty men, jealous xavier is a warning in itself, sorry if i mischaracterise…. and i also have favourites LOLL

characters: sylus, zayne, rafayel, xavier

link to master list here!

author notes: all i can think of is pouty rafayel and jealous xavier my brain is a melted goop of lnds brainrot… also sorry for not posting in a while i was on holiday!!

also quick reminder that i have requests open but 1. i’ll get to them slowly and 2. please read my pinned post about rules!

more under the cut ~

out of the four men i think sylus is the least jealous - now let me elaborate that possessiveness and jealousy (in my eyes) are very different

if you talk to another man, sylus both trusts you and has enough faith in himself to know that no matter what the dude does, sylus is yours and you’re his

he trusts you 100%, without a shadow of a doubt. and this translates through his lack of jealousy when you spend time with other people

however, if the man even attempts to lay a finger on you, his tone becomes too sweet or his hand inches a bit too close and you’re getting uncomfortable?

you bet your ass sylus is interfering.

immediately shifts his body to create distance between you and the other party

he flashes a dangerous look at the other man, evol glowing dangerously as it whispers a small warning into the other’s ear

“Stay away and you get to stay alive.”

he seriously doesn't fuck around when it comes to your comfort and safety, and if he feels that another man is compromising it or pushing the boundaries it really ticks him off

when does sylus get jealous?

mostly when you start to spend less time with him and more time with others

it’s not as if as soon as you spend time with someone else he gets jealous, but if it causes you to start to ignore him/spend less time with him he gets jealous

when he gets jealous, he doesn’t hide it at all

sylus isn’t one to keep his feelings from you, so when you see his displeasured frown you know immediately something is up

he doesn’t get angry or petty when jealous, he just makes it clear that he’s not happy with the division of attention

when you ask him what’s up, he gives you the answer plain and simple

“Getting bored of me already? How come you’re spending more time with […] than me, I’m jealous.”

his voice is slow and clearly unimpressed, crossing his arms as he looks you up and down.

luckily for you, he’s not hard to win over

spend time with him, even if it’s not active such as going out to restaurants or to one of his formal events

the two of you sitting in comfortable silence, him reading a magazine and you looking through moments, that’s more than enough for him

he’s not opposed to displays of physical affection either, cuddling or kisses to his face - anything that tells him “you’re mine/i’m yours” will satisfy him

just make sure not to spend TOO much time with the other person, otherwise sylus might seriously hunt them down

he’d never make you jealous on purpose, he had no interest in other women/men at all and respects you way too much to pull petty moves like that

when sylus accidentally makes you jealous, he’ll definitely pamper you, spoil you with gifts and spend time with you

wanted to get the new limited edition plushie? he’ll stay in the arcade with you until you get all of them. wanted a new game on steam? he’s bought both the game, all the dlcs and any in game passes and currency.

Somewhere at some point during the day he'll simply come clean about it, after all he's a straight forward man and he trusts you.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to make you jealous. Forgive me, please?"

tldr; sylus is a love sick loser that knows you’re equally in love with him as he is with you

here goes the award to the most composed LI - zayne gets jealous alright, not nearly as much as the coming two but he still gets jealous

it's not that he doesn't trust you, but watching you smile so brightly to the café employee or get a little too friendly with another doctor sets him on edge

if you're talking to male friends/giving them friendly hugs zayne's completely fine with it, he's happy to see you surrounded by people who care for you and for you to be happy too

at first it's hard to tell when zayne gets jealous, he has a poker face that would put lady gaga to shame

however, after a while you discover the few subtleties that give away his disgruntled state

for example, if you're talking a bit too excitedly or friendly to the barista - especially one you'd both met just today - there'd be a little crease in his forehead, his mouthwould be a fraction more downturned and his eyes a bit narrower as if he was squinting

or if you talk to him about a male colleague when you two were supposed to be out on a date, he'd definitely be jealous... however the only give away would be the faintest purse of his lips and twitch of his eyebrow

if you ask him if he's jealous he's going to deny it, he usually doesn't lie but when it comes to vulnerable emotions such as jealousy i feel he'd have difficulties expressing them

"Jealous? I'm not jealous, don't worry about me."

but then the right side of his mouth is twitching a little and if you focus hard enough he gives the impression of a kicked puppy, a very subtle hint of 'give me attention'

if you manage to learn the art of 'zayne expression reading' and finally notice that he's not 'lactose-intolerant-and-having-stomach-issues-causing-him-to-look-like-that' but in fact jealous, here's a few ways to heal your zayne!!

zayne specialists recommend a good dosage of subtle affections - e.g. bringing up one of his interests or reminiscing upon something you two did in the past, basically indicating to him 'hey, i still love you most in the world!'

he's a perceptive man and will pick up on what you're doing relatively quick, and his little grumpy face will relax back into the unconscious, soft smile he adopts when in your presence

if he accidentally makes you jealous, he makes sure you know more than anyone else in the world that he's yours and yours only.

reciprocates the small gestures such as holding your hand in public or introducing you to his colleagues

"Good afternoon to you too. I believe you haven't met [Y/N] before?"

and then he'll adjust his hand placement, sliding from patting your shoulder to gentle resting on the small of your back, a little intimate gesture that screams "I'm their partner."

makes sure by the end of the day he's got the message across, and at one point brings it up (even though you've basically forgotten what he did to make you jealous anyways)

"I didn't mean to upset you, [Y/N]. I love you only, no one else could replace you, I promise."

okay, yeah, we made it to jealous, pouty, bratty man territory

there’s an evident gap between zayne level jealousy and rafayel level jealousy

don’t get me wrong, rafayel would do anything you asked of him - partially because of his whole lumerian bond and also because he’s utterly whipped for you

does he love you? that’s a stupid question to ask oh course he does… but does he truly trust you?

i’d like to think that rafayel (if he was dating you in this situation) is absolutely devoted to you and trusts you wholeheartedly, but in reality rafayel has deep engraved fears and uncertainties

he has a fear of being forgotten about, and likely (as a consequence of being forgotten multiple times) - the idea of being abandoned or replaced sends physical chills down his spine

so honestly, rafayel’s jealousy stems from the unwavering fear of being left alone, lost and forgotten again…

the pain of being forgotten, it’s not something he’s willing to go through any more, causing it to be difficult to fully reassure him that you’re his.

on a more lighter, more playful level, rafayel’s jealousy would probably lay with animals - specifically cats and sea creatures

one day he finds that instead of lazing about with him indoors, that you were outside napping with a cat on your lap

if he wasn’t so afraid of the cat concerned for your quality and length of sleep he would’ve had a go at the cat as it smirked triumphantly at him, licking its paws as it rolls around in your lap.

when complaining later on he would be his usual, petulant self, pouting and crossing his arms, tilting his chin up etc

“I guess you prefer those furry monsters over a fishie like me, why don’t you just leave me for one?”

to fix this petty brattiness is simple!

simply devote all your attention and affections to rafayel, as in when you two are alone and spending time together you can just pat his head or trace his beauty marks

he’ll be pouting the whole time, but after a few pats he’ll get embarrassed and his ears will go red as he says something like “I’m not a cat…” yet he still lets you pet him lol

rafayel especially likes it when you gently stroke at the roots of his hair, leaning into your touch a little every time you thread deeper into his hair

however, if you spend too much time with another man rather than rafayel, it’s a whole different type of jealousy/insecurity

he’s quiet, too quiet, and withdrawn

the situation was deeply confusing the first time around

it’s as if you ordered the wrong rafayel, what happened to his usual bratty and playful personality? this wasn’t like all the other times.

unlike his childish display of jealousy when you were with the cat, this time he had a schooled expression, blank, a facade

his expression was eerie, you’d never seen him like this, so… emotionless seeming

rafayel, really, was emotionally detaching from the relationship - he still loves you oh my god he adores you so much he’d sacrifice everything he had for you, but the idea of you preferring that other person over him?

it sends him into panic, and all he (believed he) could do was numb himself, anticipate the leave or him getting forgotten

(am i projecting too much here… avoidant attachment rafayel believer and lover 😞🙏)

if he withdrew from the relationship first, maybe it would hurt less being left again

of course you weren’t intending to leave him, so how do you fix this?

well, as unhealthy as this may seem, spending less time with the new person and more time with rafayel really would be the only way i could think of making him feel better

saying things such as “Rafayel I would never leave you.” can only provide him with short-term reassurance, after all how many times have you said that before and then still proceeded to leave him?

instead, caress him gently, give him time to feel safe in the relationship again. late night calls where you two fall asleep together or hold him in your arms as you two both sleep at night

this avoidant attachment style will, however, probably go when you two start dating, since in dating you rafayel has probably decided to let you into his heart and whole heartedly trusts you now :)

if rafayel accidentally makes you jealous, depending on the severity (again) here’s what he’d do

if it was a simple thing (such as spending too much time with the shakes idk something more tame) he’d definitely tease you

“Awwh cutie? Getting jealous of the sharks? Don’t worry, I prefer you over them any day.”

he’ll have this smug ass grin that pisses you off, as much as it makes you love him too

rafayel will give you more hugs and gifts than usual for a while after, claiming it’s ‘nothing’ and that you’re ’hallucinating things’ when you ask what he’s doing

really he’s apologising, but you don’t need to know that

if he made you really jealous/upset he’ll make is extremely clear to you that he belongs to you, his heart and will is yours

will become more clingy and affectionate with you (not that he does it on purpose infact he’s only showing his true desires more), forever. like, you get jealous? don’t worry, literally for the rest of your life you’ll know that rafayel is head-over-heels for you.

tldr: he needs a hug :( also i ended up writing way more than intended but im a rafayel lover, writer and if he has no stans left im dead

here he is, the most jealous and arguably possessive man in lnd.

xavier tries to hide it, but everyone knows that he’s yours, without a shadow of a doubt

we all saw what happened with jeremiah, don’t make me pull out the receipts LOL. like jeremiah was just happy to finally see the girl xavier was lining over for centuries and xavier was already losing his shit 😭

literally anyone talking to you too affectionately will tick him off, but xavier’s too sly to make it obvious

you’re talking to a doctor (cough zayne) ? xavier brings up some sort of old medicine they don’t or asks about their speciality so you stop talking to them

talking to a protocore specialist? he’ll all of a sudden be holding a textbook worthy protocore, worth the poor persons whole shop

a florist? he’s pointing at every flower and naming them, both common and scientific name.

“Oh [Y/N], look at that flower. I believe it’s called a Lonicera periclymenum?”

*turns to face the clearly shocked and flustered florist with a polite smile*

“Well, maybe you know it as a honeysuckle, is that correct?”

after living for so long he’s learnt many things, and boy does he use it to his advantage

when xavier gets jealous, he doesn’t expect anything from you, no no, this man is a service boyfriend if i’ve ever seen one, he was MADE to please you

rather than thinking “oh you don’t like me anymore i’m so upset“ he thinks “i need to serve and show you i’m yours.”

do you like sweet things? he’s buying you chocolates of all kinds, if that’s not your jam he’s got pastries, or candy, or fresh fruit, maybe everything in a little gift box

prefer savoury foods? he’ll cook you a meal that he knows you like (even if you don’t trust the food) he’ll practice making it until you like it

if you talk about another person when you’re one on one with him, he’ll do little things to get your attention, maybe bite your finger softly or tuck hair behind your ear, little fleeting touches and such

cheeky little grins and conversational diversions such as 'Oh? What about you, how did you do in the exam?' or 'What were you buying in the supermarket?' - more ways of saying "i'm yours, don't forget"

but if you wanted to reassure xavier, physical affections such as cuddling and kisses can win him over

nap with him for a few nights (really he forgave you the first night, he just pretended to be grumpy with you for a while longer for more naps) and he’ll be satisfied (for now)

“Come cuddle with me starlight, I’ve still not forgiven you.”

(he’s lying, he forgave you like a week ago)

likes it when you play with his hair when you two cuddle - now this makes me want to write abt how the men cuddle lol

if he accidentally makes you jealous it’d probably be when the two of you are on a mission and he flirts with another woman to easily progress through a mission

the two of you are in the hotel room and you’re sulking in the bed, turning away from him and clearly displeased

xavier knows you’re jealous, and can only huff out an amused breath - he doesn’t like that you’re feeling bad but he’s happy that you’re jealous… means you like him as much as he likes you!

he gently walks over to the bed, shifting onto the duvet beside you and reaches out to touch your shoulder - making sure you’re okay with him touching you

if you let him, he’ll lie down next to you and slowly wrap his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he slowly kisses the top of your head

slipping your shirt down to just below your shoulder, he gives the skin of your back gentle kisses as he apologises

“I’m sorry, it was for the mission. I’ve only ever loved you, so please don’t be angry.”

and then he nuzzled into your back until you finally cave in, twisting around and hugging him back.

he’ll be seriously apologetic about it though, and in the future avoid such intimate forms of gathering information even *if* you told him it was okay

AN; i got way too carried away with rafayel ANYWAYS hope you enjoy and now i want to write smaller hcs on how the men cuddle lolol

also this isn’t proofread no beta we die like caleb ig

[ink-stainedkiss]

Nerd Gojo Headcannons

A/N: I’m so sorry for my lack of activeness. please forgive me🙏🙏 I’ve had so much stuff with school and yesterday was my birthday so my schedule has been packed. I wanted to give you guys something small for now so my accounts not collecting dust, but i promise more will be coming in days prior!! Love you all!💕

Nerd!Gojo who is still completely shocked you chose him out of everyone on campus. Gojo was a known geek, someone who got excited about the latest comic and his grades never fell below an A+. Well lucky for him, you found the fact he was so nerdy to be extremely cute.

Nerd!Gojo who loves planning adorable dates with you, but it’s never commonplace. He will set up picnics right in front of a beautiful lake, taking you to a pottery class and giggling at how dumb your ‘masterpieces’ look, or simply creating a candlelight dinner in your apartment.

Nerd!Gojo who adores you and he makes it extremely known. For someone so shy when the two of you first met, he definitely has warmed up to you. Before, he was too scared to even stand next to you because he was afraid he would slip up and embarrass himself, but now he never leaves your side. You can’t exit the same room with him without giving him a long kiss goodbye, even if you're just grabbing ice from the hallway. Hugs, kisses, handholding, cuddles, you name it, Gojo loves it.

Nerd!Gojo who isn’t the best at taking care of himself. He often stays up late to finish homework or a project that could easily be done the next day, but unfortunately he’s a try hard and will force himself to stay awake until it’s done. Before you, he relied on energy drinks to keep him up and when all of the work was done, he would sleep the weekend away, barely leaving his dorm. Even now, you have to scold him for his unhealthy studying habits.

You were peacefully chatting with your friends, going on about the tests and assignments being piled on top of each other. As you spoke, your group’s eyes shift behind you, but you couldn’t turn before two lanky arms were sliding around your waist. Soft lips gently landed on your exposed neck and in your peripheral vision you saw a puff of white hair. Of course it was Gojo. Your friends did not hold back their cheeky looks, some of them turning and looking off in another direction while muffaling their giggles.

Blush rose to your cheeks instantly and you heard your boyfriend speak up,”Hi Baby.” He’s obviously tired, his voice groggier than normal, but he still has the energy to cover you in his love. You shift your body to face him, cupping his cheek, and you get a good look at his face. Like you expected, he looks on the brink of passing out. His usually bright eyes were a bit dimmer and there were vague shadows coating his under eyes. His own hand reached up and held the one of his face, turning his head to plant tiny kisses to your palm.

“Have you been sleeping?” Gojo sees the disappointed frown on your face, because you already knew the answer. He sighed, leaning into your touch,”Maybe.” The short response was enough to finalize your question. It didn’t help that he had shut his eyes and was practically sleeping against your palm. Turning to your friends, you excused yourself, dragging a half-asleep Gojo on your side the entire time you left.

Nerd!Gojo who knows he should listen to your stern lectures on why he needs to stop doing all nighters, but even if he felt like shit after, without fail the two of you would cuddle on his bed and take a long cat nap. You were never as tired as Gojo, so most of the time you would be awake, reading, or scrolling on your phone, while Gojo slept soundly on your lap.

Nerd!Gojo who may or may not do your homework if you leave it out. He tells himself he shouldn’t, since you tell him it’s not his responsibility to do your own work, but he can’t help it. You’re his girlfriend after all and it would be mean of Gojo to not fill out the first half of the paper and maybe the back half if he has time. (He does it regardless)

Nerd!Gojo who nearly cries when you get him a figurine of his favorite superhero character. He constantly gushes about how cool they are and doesn’t notice how you aren’t even listening to the topic, just focusing on how his eyes light up with pure joy. You have adapted to Gojo’s interest, never denying a trip to the movies with him to see a new action film he has been freaking out about. Holidays are like Gojo’s heaven because you always end up getting him another item for his very large collection. Each time you are smothered in kisses then dragged to his room to watch him rearrange his overcrowded stock.

Nerd!Gojo who is so thankful for you and some nights, wakes up to watch you sleep calmly. His fingers rake over your face and images of your future together flash in his head.

[quietdeparturesarchive]

LEVEL UP GUIDE PT. 1 - MINDSET

Society is fcked up. Many people around us are caught up in addictions to drugs, alcohol, or the party lifestyle. Others are struggling with deep depression and a lack of motivation and a screen time higher than the hours of sleep they get each night.

Believe me, I know. Staying disciplined has never been more challenging than it is today - especially with all the easy distractions around us every minute.

If you're also stuck and you do wanna break this cycle of yours then you need to start with your mindset! Your mindset is the base for everything! 📁 Practice Gratitude - Spend a few minutes of your day by writing down 3 things you're grateful for - Shift your focus to what you have, not what you lack.

📁 Challenge Negative Thoughts - Replace “I can’t” with “How can I?” - Reframe setbacks as opportunities to learn and grow.

📁 Set Clear Goals - Break your big dreams into smaller, actionable steps. - Focus on progress, not perfection.

📁 Surround Yourself with Positivity - Spend time with people who inspire and uplift you. - Limit exposure to negativity, whether from people or social media.

📁 Embrace Growth - View failures as lessons, not defeats. - Stay curious and open to new experiences.

📁 Develop Daily Affirmations - Use statements like, “I am capable of achieving great things.” - Repeat them daily to reinforce self-belief.

📁 Prioritize Self-Care - Get enough sleep, eat well, and stay active. - A healthy body supports a healthy mind.

📁 Learn to Let Go - Release grudges and resentment—they only weigh you down. - Practice forgiveness for others and yourself.

📁 Focus on Solutions, Not Problems - Train your brain to look for answers instead of dwelling on challenges. - Practice asking, “What can I do about this?”

📁 Stay Consistent - Small, positive actions done daily lead to big changes over time. - Build habits that align with the person you want to become.

xoxo, sally...

pic1 | pic2 | pic3

[ddarker-dreams]

Hey Lock!!!! How are you doing? Do you have any Chrollo crumbs for us? 👀👀👀👀

i'm doing well today anon, thank you for asking!!!!!!!!!!! 💖💖💖 and yes ... i have this chrollo thought that has been floating around in my head rent-free...

chrollo is not a yandere you want to genuinely upset.

he doesn't do 'forgive and forget.' he may appear outwardly courteous, but he's not above being petty and cruel. it's for your benefit that he keeps these tendencies to himself. there are days you can forget who exactly he is, days where he feels more like a pesky ex than an actual threat. deep down in your subconscious, you know you'd never make it far should an escape find initial success. the usual avenues won't be available to you. there's no flagging down a bystander, who in turn will alert the authorities and shuffle you off into protective custody.

there's just you and the dwindling distance between an immensely displeased force.

you're unsure what compels you to do it. perhaps it's paranoia, exhaustion, or sheer desperation from how little you can actively do to prevent what awaits; but you call him. on a payphone, amidst a bustling metropolis. you're seconds away from transit that'd speedily haul you away, should he track the call. your mouth goes dry as each ring sounds. you begin having second thoughts, wondering what exactly it is you're hoping to accomplish—

—when a familiar voice on the other line greets you. the quality distorts it ever so slightly, but your recognition is immediate, as is the way your heart temporarily stops.

he'll ask if you're alright. if you've been resting well, getting enough to eat, taking your medication.

your responses are automatic, like you're catching up with an old friend. he doesn't come across as angry, or upset really; more concerned than anything else. he does care about you. nothing you do will ever change that. he knows your allergies, what you prefer the AC to be on in the summer and heat in the winter, to turn on the subtitles when watching a movie without even asking.

he knows you.

you didn't mean to chat this long. it's a bad idea, potentially the start of the end, yet you can't help asking:

"... are you mad at me?"

he goes quiet.

not much time passes. you think you hear him sigh, but the connection's bad and your brain sleep deprived.

"i don't know, dear," he eventually admits. the pet name lacks its usual warmth. "i'm always pursuing you in some regard, aren't i? and yet... you always turn your back. always evade me, right at the last second. just when i think i finally have you, i'm reminded removing your heart might be my best chance at having it."

another pause.

"don't mind my musings. we both know out of all the lives i'll take, yours is perfectly safe."

[isak-dot-gov]

Hi! Can you please do a Paige x reader wife wherein they had a fight in the morning just before Paige went off to training and the reader stays at home but was so upset that she decided to go out even though Paige told her to stay at home because they’re still new in the neighborhood and she might get lost. And can it be fluff please. Thank you so much!

Priorities

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Word count: 1331

My masterlist :)

....................................................

The early morning sunlight slanted through the kitchen windows, casting a soft glow over the empty coffee mugs and the half-opened box of cereal. You stood by the counter, arms tightly crossed over your chest, watching Paige as she rushed around the kitchen, her sneakers squeaking against the wooden floor as she fumbled with her duffel bag. She was trying to be quick, but it only made her seem more distant. The morning was supposed to be for the two of you—a long-awaited day off to explore the new neighbourhood, to finally feel like you were home after so many changes. But now, as you stared at her, you couldn’t help but feel that familiar sting of disappointment.

“So, that’s it? You’re really going to cancel our plans?” Your voice was sharper than you intended, but it was too late to reel it back in.

Paige froze for a second, her fingers pausing on the strap of her bag. She looked up at you, her expression a mix of apology and guilt, but the determination in her eyes never wavered. “I have to go, babe,” she said quietly. “Coach called last night. The team’s running plays today, and we’re already on a tight schedule. We have to get this right if we want to win the game this weekend.”

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm, though it felt impossible. “And what about us?” You took a few steps closer, fighting the lump in your throat. “What about the day you promised we’d finally have? Just the two of us? You and me. No basketball, no practice, just… us, Paige. Do I really have to keep coming second to your career?”

Paige winced at your words, the hurt evident in the way her shoulders slumped. “That’s not fair, you know it,” she replied, voice low and strained. “You knew this wasn’t going to be easy when we moved here. I’m not doing this just for me; I’m doing it for the team, for the future. You know how much this means.”

“Do I?” You threw your hands up in frustration. “Because it feels like every time we make plans, I’m left holding the bag while you’re out on the court. I feel like I’m constantly sacrificing for your dream, but when do I get some of your time?”

Her face softened with regret, but she didn’t step closer. Instead, she moved to the door, her hand resting on the handle, her back to you. “Please stay home today. It could be dangerous out there, we're still new to the neighbourhood, and I don’t want you getting lost.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need you to babysit me, Paige. I’m not asking for much. Just… us. But maybe that’s too much to ask for.” The words came out sharper than you intended, and you immediately regretted them, but it was too late.

Paige turned around, her eyes wide with a mixture of pain and frustration. “You’re right. I should’ve handled this better, but I’m doing my best. I want you here with me. I need to go, baby. I love you. Please don’t leave the house.”

The air between you felt suffocating. You wanted to forgive her, wanted to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. But instead, all you could do was look at her, the disappointment still lodged in your chest as you watched her walk out the front door.

You tried to stay in the house, you really did, but with the bitter taste your argument with Paige left in your mouth, and the lack of an entertaining activity you grabbed your jacket and walked out the door, not giving her instruction to you a second thought. As you stepped into the crisp morning air, the cold wind hitting your face was a welcome distraction. The streets were quiet, but the further you walked, the more distant you felt from Paige—and from everything you had hoped today would be.

You didn’t know how far you were walking, but with each step, your frustration seemed to dissipate. There was something soothing about the neighbourhood—the little details you had been meaning to explore but never found the time for. The small, tucked-away cafes. The vibrant murals on the walls. It was all new, but there was a sense of calm in the unfamiliarity.

You stopped at a café situated on the neighbourhood's park, ordering a cup of coffee, hoping it would settle the unease gnawing at you. As you sat by the window, watching people walk by, you pulled out your phone. A series of missed calls from Paige stared up at you. Each one felt like a reprimand, each one a silent plea for you to come back.

You slid your phone back into your pocket. You didn’t know if you were ready to face her yet. Maybe you needed more time, or maybe you just didn’t know how to process everything. The truth was, you didn’t want to be angry with her. You just felt… invisible. Like you were always expected to put her career first, but when did your needs ever come second?

The daylight faded as you wandered further, following the winding streets that seemed to go on forever. You had no idea how far you’d gone, or how long you’d been walking. The stress of the morning weighed on your shoulders, but now there was a creeping worry: you were lost. Really lost.

Your heart quickened, and a sudden wave of panic swept over you. You pulled out your phone again as you continued walking around in an attempt to find your way home, but this time, you stared at the map, trying to orient yourself. You didn’t recognize anything.

What if something happened? you thought.

Then your phone buzzed again. Paige.

You looked at the screen, your thumb hovering over the call. But you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. The guilt was almost suffocating, but the frustration still lingered.

As you took a deep breath, ready to try and figure out where you were, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching behind you. You turned, only to see Paige, her face flushed from running, her expression a mix of relief and concern.

“Baby?” Her voice cracked slightly as she hurried to you, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I couldn’t get in touch with you, and I—I was so scared. I thought something happened to you.”

The moment she reached you, she didn’t wait for you to say anything. She pulled you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around you as though she couldn’t stand the thought of letting you go. You stood there, stunned for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest, before you finally let go of the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I just needed to get away for a bit.”

Paige pulled back, cupping your face in her hands, her thumb brushing over the wetness on your cheeks. “No, I’m sorry. I should’ve listened to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re second place. You’re my everything.”

Your chest tightened at her words, the weight of the morning's argument finally breaking free. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have walked away like that. I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

She leaned in, brushing a soft kiss across your forehead. “Let’s go home,” she said, her voice steady and comforting.

With a final, lingering glance around the neighbourhood, you both turned and made your way back. As you walked side by side, you knew this wasn’t the end of your struggles. But it was a beginning—a promise that no matter how lost you got, you would always find your way back to each other.

[aloesarchives]

JJK Headcanon: Megumi cockblocks Toji/Megumi "Menace" Fushiguro/ Toji having beef with his 15 yr old son

Warning: Swearing, Female reader, Mentions of sexual activities but not explicit, ooc on Megumi’s part, Toji being Toji

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader(romantic), Megumi x Mom!reader(parental/platonic)

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader is referred to as mom, mama, and mother by Toji and Megumi)

Word Count: 2.2K

(A/N: This is based on my one-shot I did and I wanted to expand on it because I just felt the need to. This headcanon went off the rails and is in different directions. Let me know if I missed any warnings!)

[Edited and Proofread! on 12/9/23 8:05pm. Forgive the strange format, Tumblr wouldn’t let me edit the post so I had to do it on the original doc and paste the edited version.]

Please enjoy!

So Megumi cock blocking Toji started out unintentionally and by accident. But as he got older, he did it more to annoy his dad and get on his nerves.

I will die on this hill but Megumi is a Mama's boy. Though it goes unsaid(by him at least), everyone knows it. Toji knows it, Gojo knows it, his classmates and friends know it, and everyone at Jujutsu High knows it. Hell, his own shadows know it.

Obviously you know it but you don’t want to embarrass your son. But it does fill you with love and contentment to know your son loves you dearly.

But that’s the problem, he LOVES you. Loves you more than Toji. Well, Megumi loves Toji as a dad and father. It’s just as he gets older, especially as a teenager, he often butts heads with Toji and gets fairly annoyed by his presence. All Toji has to do is breathe in Megumi’s direction and your son groans, rolls his eyes, and leaves.

When Megumi was younger, he was attached to you. You were always carrying him inside the house, when you were cooking, and even when folding the laundry. He didn’t like being far from you. All you had to do was be within 6 feet of your son or where he can see you and he will be fine.

So when Toji holds Megumi because you need to get or do something where you can’t bring your son, Megumi is all fussy and cranky. He doesn’t cry often but he is just all over Toji. Pulling at his hair, shirt, and cheek. Toji has been mostly successful with Megumi when putting him down for a nap, feeding or bathing him but sometimes it’s a struggle.

When you do it for Megumi, he is all cooperative and easy to handle. Toji clicks his tongue when he sees it happen and looks at Megumi as your son nuzzles into your shoulder. “I see how it is Megumi. All nice and easy for Mama but not for me.”

After successfully putting Megumi to bed, Toji gets frisky as wants some alone time with you. Since Megumi was born, your son has taken up most of your time. Leaving your poor husband with a lack of attention and affection. You want to make it up to him for lost time so you let him have his way with you.

However, just before Toji could go down on you and make you see stars, you hear Megumi’s crying. So out of instinct, you grab one of Toji’s shirts and make your way to comfort your son. Half the time, the mood gets instantly lost and Toji gets sexually frustrated. He was so close to boning you and your son just has to stop him from doing so. 

Toji gets blue balls so many times during Megumi’s youth, it’s a straight-up crime to him.

There are times when Toji doesn’t care if Megumi starts to cry in his bed. He read somewhere that babies just cry for no reason so at times let them cry it out. When he reads that, he’s not letting you out of his grasp when his son is crying in his crib. You feel the urge to comfort him but when Toji makes you wait a couple minutes and start to hear Megumi’s cries grow quieter, then they stop. That gives you two the green light to each other to yourselves.

75% Toji would have success with you but there was the other 25% he didn’t.

When Megumi was a toddler, he mostly would knock on your door in the dead of night either because he had a nightmare or wanted to sleep with you two. Luckily, this happens after your “nightly session” with Toji.

But Megumi would ask Toji to help him with stuff or pop up out of nowhere when wanted to have a piece of you. Toji hugging your front and cups your body while you cook? Megumi is by the kitchen table asking what are you making for dinner. Toji cages you against the wall as you put away the laundry? Megumi pops his head out of his room and asks Toji if he saw his dog plushie that was on his bed. 

But Megumi’s clinginess to you is genetic because Toji is the exact same to you. Way before Megumi was on the drawing board, Toji was either all over you or near you. No in between, it was one or the other.

You felt bad because it feels like your son and your husband are fighting for your attention. You know Megumi’s a child, who needs more guidance and help, but you know your husband has needs too. 

But as Megumi goes to school, it was easier for you two to have some alone time. Mostly easier for Toji to be inside of you.

But as Megumi gets the hang of summoning his shadows, it’s all over for Toji. This happens when he’s older as Megumi sometimes lets his dogs out and roam around the house. Like their user, the dogs and shadows love you too. One time, they saw Toji being too close to you and thought he was harassing you. So the dogs ran and pounced on Toji. One of them caught Toji’s wrists in their mouth and started pulling him away from you. Obviously, you called Megumi over to stop his dogs or to call them back. He does so but not without giving Toji a smirk, he definitely may or may not put his dogs up to it just to fuck around with his dad.

For the timely and observant boy he is, Megumi really is just popping in at the wrong times. He didn’t mean to do that to you, he’s well aware of how much you love Toji, both body and soul. He just doesn’t like how Toji isn’t quick and sleek with his intentions with you. Sure, it was Toji’s house and he can do whatever he wants in it. But Megumi also lives here too, so Toji should be more cautious and considerate of his son. Because everyone knows that they would rather bury themselves than see their parents try to give them another sibling.

Though Megumi now dorms at Jujutsu High because of missions, he does come home on weekends and breaks. But it varies from time to time, he would mostly tell you in advance when he would come home or visit. But he sometimes forgets and just drops by unannounced.  

Thus, that’s how scenarios like this occur. 

He will come home, sometimes knocking/ringing the doorbell but mostly lets himself in, then he walks inside, takes off his shoes, and goes to the living room. His heart slightly beats faster as he awaits the inevitable. It’s like a coin toss, 50/50 chance he’ll be safe or not. He relaxes when he doesn't stumble upon another eye bleaching but when he encounters the other 50%. He cringes inside so hard, he just blames Toji. Nah, he never blames you.

Yes, he’s well aware of men and women having… carnal desires… But you were never shameless about it in public or out in the open. He doesn’t know when it’s just Toji and you. But frankly, he DOES NOT WANT to know or find out. So he believes his father is just a dog in heat almost every time there is an OUNCE of spare time with you.

He either coughs, grunts or speaks to make his presence known. 99% of the time when this happens you are the one to push yourself away from Toji and try to make the situation less awkward for your son. It always ends up embarrassing you in the end.

Toji, in his head, lowkey wants to smack his son to another dimension. Way too salty in his mind.

‘Brat, let me have a moment with your mother, it’s not that hard.’ ‘IDGAF if you're my son, I’ll smack and give hands to my own son if you keep doing this.’

Like father like son, Megumi is doing the same thing in his head.

‘That’s a skill issue’ ‘This is an issue, not an iss-me’ ‘You fell off, what happened? Cause you’re too old?’ ‘Fucking cope, Old Man’.

Because of this, Toji literally has beef with his 15-year-old son. 

Should he be pressed about someone younger than him? No! Does he care? Also No. If this man can beef and fight Gojo Satoru and LIVE to see another day, he can have beef with anyone. 

Even if it’s his own son.

You should be a good parent and spouse and try to dissipate the fact your husband and son have an unspoken feud with each other. But you can’t help but watch everything unfold when they interact sometimes because it’s just funny and you get a kick out of it. 

Just to clarify, it’s never a shouting match or an actual argument. It’s more of petty insults, backhanded compliments, or brutal honesty minus the honesty. It’s like being a spectator at an event. You were watching for entertainment and you were getting your money’s worth. When you would come by Jujutsu High, you would talk about Megumi and Toji’s “interactions”. Saying something along the lines of “They don’t see eye to eye.”

One day, Toji and you decided to pay a visit to the campus because Principal Yagi needed to ask you about something in person. Since it was only you, Toji just wandered the halls and the school’s grounds, waiting for you to be done. As the odds were in his favor as he stumbled upon Megumi and his group doing some training. Toji just pops in and starts talking to Megumi. He acknowledged Yuuji and Nobara but he didn’t spare a glance at Gojo. In fact, he straight up looked at Gojo, gave a look of disgust, and continued talking to Megumi whilst ignoring him.

It didn’t take for some banter to rise between father and son, while no loud voices or malice was felt or seen. This was probably the few times Yuuji and Nobara had seen Megumi get heated, but this was the first time they saw Megumi beefing with his dad.

After a few minutes, Megumi summoned his shadows and Toji decided to change into his fighting stances. Yuuji thinks this is a bad idea but Gojo just smiles, saying that seeing them spar was a “learning experience”. Plus it would be good for Yuuji to watch Toji because Toji was a physical fighter considering his Heavenly Restriction. Though Yuuji has some curse energy, he must box it out with his opponents so he considered and the three watched the two fight it out. 

Megumi forgot his old man was an actual threat to the Jujutsu Society because Toji was straight up dodging Megumi’s shadows, their attacks, and even Megumi's own physical attacks. Though Toji wanted to have a little fun, he had to hold back so he wouldn't destroy/kill any of Megumi’s shadows. If he did, you would definitely find out and he would be a dead man for sure.

Anyway, it was so fast-paced that only Gojo was keeping up with the action. He was smiling but he had a shiver up his spine as he remembered that Megumi’s dad was the very reason for his enlightenment and Hollow Purple ability. It was obvious that Megumi wasn’t going to win but he wasn’t one to admit defeat. Then like a blur, Toji charged at Megumi from above and when he landed he created a decently large cater with Megumi at the center. Megumi’s shadows disappear since he is low on curse energy and is completely exhausted.

Both men were heaving and sweating like crazy. Yet out of nowhere, they suddenly hear your voice, LOUD and DESTRESS. You ran over to the two, eyes widening as the carter became bigger the closer you got. You see your son lying on the floor and help him up. You tried dusting off some of the dirt on him while looking concerned. You snapped your head towards Toji, whose smirk disappeared and then returned back again. You began to reprimand him for what he had done. Fighting his own son and damaging the training grounds, like wtf man.

You weren’t really raising your voice or yelling at him. But the firmness and seriousness in your tone about the small sparring session was enough to make someone straighten their posture and use very respective language towards you. There were moments where you tugged at Toji’s ear, pulled at his shirt so he was looking straight at you, or held his forearm tightly while you expressed your disappointment and concerns to him.

Ngl, Toji was a bit bricked up when you were all serious and angry at him. He didn’t mind sleeping on the couch if it meant he got to see this side of yours more often. 

Megumi reassures you that he is not physically hurt but his pride is wounded. You told him that if his dad pulled this again, to not engage with it and back off for his own safety. Megumi, because of his agitated mood, felt a bit offended that you didn’t believe your own son could hold his own. Let alone, go toe to toe with his own father.

“Mom, I don’t understand. Why don’t you trust me in fights even though I can handle myself.”

“Megumi, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. I know you are a strong, smart, and capable person. You are my son, after all.”

“Then why don’t you want me to fight with dad?”

“Oh Megumi, honey. You have no idea the strength and capabilities of your father. You do realize, my dear, your dad was holding back a lot when he was sparring with you.”

Megumi looks shocked at his Pops, who winks at him, before turning his attention back to you.

“Wait, what? Just how strong is he, Mom?”

You didn’t give him a full answer.

All you said was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.”

Megumi and his two classmates look at their teacher to see what you were talking about all the while Gojo was sweating bullets. That’s a story for another day, now you are dragging your husband home and telling your son to call you if anything changes.

So Toji and Megumi have eternal beef with each other. Though it’s more of annoyance and for shits and giggles really. Toji really does love his son and Megumi loves and respects his dad a lot.

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Thank you for reading and hope you have an amazing day with your favorite drink!

[jacevelaryonswife]

Hiding all of our sins from the daylight | Part One

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x servant!female reader

summary: When the hour of the bat came, you went restlessly through the corridors with the dinner of the heir to the iron throne, willing to beg for forgiveness if necessary.

tags: slow burn, slight angst, war mentions

word count: 2.492

jacaerys velaryon masterlist | next part

War is something scary.

At one time, Rhaenyra Targaryen was Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne, at the next, Aegon Targaryen was named the second of his name in front of all the people of King’s Landing. A twist that in itself was dramatically alarming for Westeros, nevertheless, the murders of princes Lucerys Velaryon and Jaehaerys Targaryen began a bloody and unpredictable embroidery that could pierce even the most important of men.

Dragonstone was already apprehensive enough before the Queen was attacked in her chambers by a member of the kingsguard. After what happened, the air became denser, the corridors more dangerous, at the most tense nights and the feeling of danger constantly hovered in each resident of the island. You believed that manual labor would ease the fear in your chest, that the tiredness of washing the soft sheets of the prince of Dragonstone would ward off the fear for your life that was of little value to your lords. After all, what is the importance of a mere servant in a war between dragons?

Your efforts to stay healthy were continuous day and night. Sweeping, cleaning, washing, removing the last grain of dust from the throne heir's chambers before quickly retreating through the corridors with a dagger under your garment given by Sir Lorent. A wooden bar was supported against the door of the chambers where you and the other servants rested during the hour of the bat, in an attempt to increase safety. Although sleep was something distant after what happened to the Cargyll brothers, you remained productive, alert and nervous for most of the time.

The consequence of lack of rest was experienced abruptly when something, or rather, someone brought you back to reality in a nervous and unpleasant way, even if undeniably worried. Your view was heavy when the presence of Prince Jacaerys hovered in front of you with wide eyes and defensive posture.

"Are you okay, my lady?" The title not consistent with your position used by the prince did not go unnoticed.

What happened?

"Yes, I- my prince, I am fine," you immediately got up from the armchair, still stunned, dropping the tunic you sewed before falling asleep and lowering your head in a sign of reverence, "forgive me, I didn't intend to sleep in here, I don't know what happened."

"It's okay," he said, "I thought you were dead, that the greens had attacked again," and his words went straight to your lungs.

"I am fine, my prince, thank you for your concern," you lowered to collect the fabric and needle from the floor, mortified. "I need to finish sewing-"

“It's late, my lady, you may rest,” he took off his tunic gently from your hands.

“Thank you, my prince, have a good rest.”

You almost ran from his presence and the chambers, greeting Sir Sylak, walking quickly through the corridors while holding the dagger at your waist, hidden by the dress. That night, when you lay in your bed, you slept like you hadn't done for a long time. No nightmares and no interruptions. You almost passed the hour of the nightingale if it wasn't for Elinda, getting ready quickly and eating a piece of bread to go to the prince's quarters.

It was common for Prince Jacaerys been awake and well disposed when you entered his chambers, it was a routine of the few months you served him, but today, he was lying down, although awake.

“Good morning, my prince,” you greeted him as you lowered your head, hearing him reciprocate the greeting.

Your morning activities consisted of calling the other servants to fill the prince's bathtub with warm water, cleaning the dust from the furniture and leaving the room airy. Usually the prince made his bed, which saved a stage of work, although particularly you always aligned the ends of the sheets to be symmetrical.

“I want to spend the day in my chambers,” he announced.

Your surprised look was directed to him immediately. “It's a beautiful day out there, my prince.”

"I know," he pouted, looking down, "but I don't feel willing today."

"Are you feeling anything, my prince? Should I call Master Gerardys?" You asked, worried.

"It is not that, I just-"

Words of incentives went through your head, about duty, sacrifice and hope, but you knew the look on his face, the one you had when you wanted to stay in bed all day, when you felt alone or when you felt lost. Because of that, you opted for silence.

"Shall I inform your Grace that breakfast and other meals will be made in your chambers, my prince?"

"Yes," he replied without looking up, "thank you."

You went to the Queen's chambers to inform the prince's decision, collecting a tray with bread, fruit and a cup of tea. The mornings were always busy in the Dragonstone, which calmed your concerns about possible invaders in the name of the pretender, although your steps were nothing short of fast until you returned to the chambers of the heir to the throne. This time, Prince Jacaerys was in front of the window, staring at the sea without noticing your presence. In fact, by leaving the tray on the table next to the bed you realized that the prince's look was divided between the sea and the stone frame, without paying attention to the landscape in fact. He was thinking, you assumed, deeply, madly, in an immersion that you considered dangerous and that contrasted with the fervent personality that he exhibited next to his equals. From the first day serving Prince Jacaerys, he was nothing but polite and respectful, never abusing his position to coerce you into something, something you were too grateful for.

Obviously it was not up to a servant to interfere in the thoughts of a royal member, but you thought there was nothing wrong with doing this indirectly.

“The breakfast is served, my prince,” you announced in a calm tone, staying next to the table for a few seconds before returning to last night's unfinished work.

The prince walked in silence until he sat down, thanking briefly. From your position, you had a privileged view of the queen's son, observing him discreetly as you sewed the black fabric of his tunic, not losing the way he chewed slowly under the effect of the cold breeze that entered through the window. You shuddered in the seat, using his tunic to warm up, seeing how he seemed to return to his previous state.

"Are you okay, my prince?"

He remained silent for a few seconds as he looked at you before lowering his head, sighing. "Do you believe in the possibility of victory?"

Your eyes widened with the sudden question, throat drying as you looked at him. "I... I don't know, I don't understand about war strategies, my prince," you were uncertain if the truth would be enough for him. "But I believe we have a chance."

“Just like the greens,” he added quickly, finding your look.

“Indeed.” Honestly, you avoided thinking about a possible victory of the greens, fearing that your head would not remain in your body if Dragonstone was taken. "But what I think doesn't matter, my prince."

And with that, he got lost in nothing again. The silence took over the room until you finished the work and moved to store the piece of clothing in one of the chests.

"You are dismissed for now, I wish to be alone."

Again, you were no one to contradict the prince's will, limiting yourself to lowering your head and withdrawing from his presence.

The point was: you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts. I didn't want to imagine a dragon of the greens, for the gods, Vhagar, hovering over the castle with fire and blood. You were also afraid to nap and miss the time for the prince's next meal, so you chose to help the women in the kitchen for the next few hours. Clearly questions were asked about your presence in that part of the castle. Is the prince okay? Did you notice anything different? Did he eat? Was he pale?

- "He was fine, just... he seemed dejected, not sick, but sad, reflective," that's what you replied.

"It's the war, my dear, it destroys the best of men."

That afternoon, Prince Jacarys slept with his back to the door when you brought a piece of mushroom pie and a glass of wine. The questions about his health made you get closer to the bed after leaving the tray on the table, walking slowly so as not to wake him up and touching his forehead with the back of the hand.

You expected a possible fever, not that his eyes would open and make you retreat immediately. "Apologies, m-my prince, I didn't intend to wake you up, I thought you might be sick," you justified with wide eyes, "with a fever."

"I wasn't sleeping," he simply said, pouting and looking at your feet. “And I am not sick, thank you,” he sat on the bed lazily, putting on the boots that were on the floor.

You just froze in place, terrified, thinking you had exceeded a limit not set by him. You began to take a deep breath and felt your hands tremble, although the calm with what the prince began to eat after going to the table was not consistent with your current state, although your restlessness did not go unnoticed by the prince.

"Don't worry, I'm not angry, you were just worried," he looked firmly at you. Even though your breathing had stabilized and the subject waxed, the prince seemed to have more to say. “... I just miss my brother, and how things were before. I wish I had had time to say goodbye to him, to fight for him."

Oh.

“I'm sorry for your loss, my prince, prince Lucerys didn't deserve that en-“

“I wish he was here. With me, mother, Joff and the boys...”

With caution, you leaned your hand on his shoulder, seeking to comfort him as much as possible. He seemed less tense about your touch, especially when you made a slight caress on the tunic, trying not to be intrusive.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then, unintentionally, he hit his hand against the wine glass and dropped it on his lap, making you immediately look for a cloth to clean it as he stood up "It was my fault," he said.

"I will clean," you knelt in front of him, cleaning the excess liquid carefully so as not to approach his male region, although most of the liquid has accumulated there...

Seven hells.

You took a deep breath when you realized the proximity and the position you were in, along with the same static prince watching everything with wide eyes. Heavens. "Y-you should change, my prince, I... I will wait o-outside," you stood up and walked away in a jump, heart beating faster than you could bear, head spinning when you withdrew from his cameras faster than Sir Sylak, you could question. What did you just do? May the Mother have mercy.

You were scandalized with yourself, wondering what was going on in the prince's head after your actions. Would he request an exchange of servants? Would I accuse you for trying to take advantage of him? Or because it's inappropriate? Oh gods!

Your presence at the time of collecting the dishes and the damaged pants was almost imperceptible, entering the room like a rushed ghost and withdrawing seeking not to be seen, even if he did not notice the prince sniffing your trail like a hound throughout the situation. After leaving the dishes in the kitchen and washing the prince's pants in person, you went to the rest rooms and threw yourself back on your bed. All your choices throughout the day were hasty, by the seven hells, what was happening to you?

Honestly, you feared for the prince's reaction when you returned to his quarters with dinner.

Maybe he would limit himself to dispensing your services politely. Perhaps he would report to the queen personally about the inappropriate acts of his servant and some measure would be taken. What if you were assigned to be a silent sister? For the gods, that would be more than cruel.

When the time of the bat came, you went restlessly through the corridors with the dinner of the heir to the iron throne, willing to beg for forgiveness if necessary.

The prince read a book next to a candle holder near the window, finding your look as soon as the door was opened. You went to the table and put the tray in the same place, facing the floor as the prince approached.

“I wish to talk to you, my lady.”

Oh no, oh no!

He stopped a few steps away from you. "Thank you, for the words of comfort earlier, I appreciate it. And the situation with the wine - you just wanted to help."

"I didn't want to act inappropriately, my prince, please accept my apologies, it won't happen again!" You responded immediately, faster than you intended.

"We're all acting strangely, I don't blame you. We are living moments that challenge us with fear, impotence and uncertainty, which are not limited to the crown, but to all of us," he came closer, speaking quietly. "The war is upon us and I can only think about it - every day - since my mother's throne was usurped, every hour... I just want to be useful and find a way out of this situation, for me, for mother, for Baela, for Luke and for our people."

Oh...

You - you knew you shouldn't and even tried to contain the impulse that made your hand go to his shoulder, as you had done before. Maybe he just needed that: to be heard. With thoughtful eyes, you encouraged him to continue.

"I can't think of anything else," he continued, looking down, "my head hurts everyday when I wake up, but I need to stand up."

"Did you tell Master Gerardys, my prince?"

"I don't want to worry the Queen," he sighed, still looking down.

"The queen will be worried if the worst happens," you gently squeezed his shoulder, which limited itself to touching his hands to silence for a few seconds.

“I just hope we can win,” he whispered.

"I pray to the gods every night for that," daring as you shouldn't, you touched the side of his face before picking it up for yourself. "You must eat and rest, my prince."

Mirroring your attitude, the prince held the left side of your face with determined eyes and welcoming touch. “Thank you.”

But the spark of something you didn't know how to differentiate between uncertainty and expectation was present in the brown eyes of the prince of Dragonstone.

What if that helped in something in your sleep? You doubted it a lot.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @hxtd @fkanita

[seriousbrat]

how can lily be a good person if she married a bully?

I'm going to break this down because it does legitimately seem to be an issue for so many people. I received quite a few asks about this a few days ago so I'm just going to address it generally here. Apologies for the length of this, I tried to cover everything I could think of. Let's get two things out of the way first:

Firstly, if you truly believe James was an abuser, and you're seriously asking how a woman could ever marry an abusive man, this is indicative of a fundamental lack of understanding about how abuse works. This is victim-blaming rhetoric. Abusers are predatory, manipulative, and often extremely charming, and they have a specific methodology for ensnaring their victims. I highly recommend Lundy Bancroft's book Why Does He Do That for further reading on how abuse works. The reality is that women marry abusive men all the time, and it doesn't make them bad people. If you believe otherwise we simply have nothing to talk about here.

Second, the question of whether or not James ACTUALLY changed his behaviour is irrelevant here, so I'm not going to directly address it either way. The main thing is that Lily BELIEVED that he had changed, whether or not he actually did, and we know this from Harry's conversation with Remus and Sirius. We also know she wasn't aware of the full extent of the bullying, as she didn't know the details about the prank.

For the purposes of this I'm going to adopt the perspective that James never changed, had 0 character development, and was secretly a terrible person the whole time. To be clear this isn't what I believe-- but I think it's helpful to start from a similar place.

Onto the main points:

An overly forgiving nature can be a flaw, but it doesn't make someone a bad person.

Nor does it make them selfish. Even if I concede that James was irredeemably evil as a person, the fact that Lily believed him to be better than he was, even if she was wrong, makes her at worst naive, not selfish. In fact, I'd argue that it's a sign of empathising with someone too much, which is sort of the opposite of selfishness. We know that Lily had an overly-forgiving nature, because she demonstrates that with Severus when she's willing to overlook his associations with the worst people of all time. And as we know from the fact that her friends were openly critical of it, and that she suffered as a result of it, her friendship with Sev was hardly 'convenient' for her. That she forgave him and overlooked his behaviour, and defended him, despite the fact that it was actively inconvenient for her, indicates empathy (and probably too much of it) not selfishness. Being overly forgiving is an established character trait of Lily's, as she tells us she "made excuses for [Sev] for years." Making excuses for someone you love is a flaw, but not one necessarily rooted in selfishness. Again, it was actively inconvenient for Lily to make excuses for Sev. It's also a very human flaw, not one that makes her a bad person-- especially when you consider that Lily's capacity for forgiveness had its limits, as she demonstrated with Snape.

To forgive is an act of compassion... it's not done because people deserve it, it's done because they need it.

anyway with that buffy quote out of the way, lets move on

Lily owes Snape nothing.

I'm sure people will disagree, but, objectively, she just doesn't. They are not friends at this point. He has demonstrated consistently that he doesn't have enough consideration for her to stop rubbing shoulders with people who literally want to murder her, including a boy who attacked her housemate. So why is Lily expected to take into account his feelings and his history with James? Which leads right into:

It's a massive double-standard for Lily to be blamed for marrying James when Snape isn't afforded the same for associating with Death Eaters.

I mean, think what you want, but to me being a mass murderer intent on exterminating an entire subset of the population (talking about Voldemort and other DEs here, not Snape) is like, maybe, a tiny bit worse than being a bully in school. But what do I know. Snape willingly joined up with such people, knowing perfectly well what they wanted to do to Lily, the woman he loved, and everyone like her. If Lily's choice in husband makes her a selfish person, then by your own logic Snape is completely irredeemable and you should probably delete your blog about how misunderstood and babygirl he is.

Sometimes people marry or befriend terrible people.

Similar to the first point, lack of judgement is a flaw but not one that directly indicates selfishness. Again, remember, Lily believed James to have changed. She believed, whether or not she was wrong, that redemption is possible. It's extremely common for women to date and marry terrible men, unfortunately, and to be blinded to their flaws. There are many possible reasons for this. I guess you can argue that the desire to be loved is inherently selfish, but that still wouldn't make Lily notably selfish at all, rather just a normal human. Plenty of people have had the experience of dating someone who is terrible or being friends with someone who is terrible at some point in their lives, and it doesn't automatically make them terrible themselves. People make mistakes and have poor judgment occasionally. Her actions in SWM suggest she would not have tolerated nor validated any cruelty from James towards others, had she been aware of it. Anyway, once again if you're holding Lily responsible for James's actions you need to also hold Snape responsible for the actions of his buddies. If it's selfish for Lily to associate with a bully (who she believed to have reformed) it's straight up devoid of any humanity whatsoever for Snape to KNOWINGLY associate with people like Mulciber, Voldemort, and Bellatrix. I don't actually believe this btw, I'm just following the logic through.

Furthermore, it's completely unfair to blame Lily for, in particular, the past actions of her husband.

As we clearly see in SWM, she did NOT tolerate his behaviour during the years before they started dating. James's behaviour is simply not Lily's responsibility, and neither is Snape's. It's not her job to fix them nor pay for their mistakes, nor should she have to investigate and tally up all their past wrongdoings when making her own choices. If James was actively being a menace and Lily was just watching going 'teehee' I'd understand this more, but again, she was NOT aware. Based on her behaviour in SWM, this would be out of character for Lily.

Someone having a moral stance you personally disagree with doesn't automatically make them a bad person.

If your moral stance is that James's past actions are completely unforgivable, and you could not personally date someone who did what he did, no matter how he evolved as a person, that's perfectly fine. As I've established, Lily was not aware of any continuing wrongdoing, nor would she have validated or supported it had she been aware. Lily's belief was that the person she was currently dating was a good person. She believed in redemption and second chances. If you personally do not believe in redemption or second chances, I'd question why you even like Snape, but ultimately that's your prerogative. However, believing otherwise doesn't make Lily a bad person nor selfish, even if you personally disagree or think she was wrong. People are allowed to be mistaken.

Snape was probably less relevant to their lives than you think.

Like to be quite honest, they were fighting a war and priorities had shifted, as they often do in adulthood. Lily ended her friendship with Sev, and after Hogwarts James and Lily almost certainly had no association with him whatsoever. Is Lily expected to continually self-flagellate over Snape for the rest of her life? Is she expected to take him into account in every decision she makes, forever? Believe it or not James and Lily existed separately to Snape, rather than as extensions of his character. They moved on. Snape didn't, that's what makes him beautiful-- and yes there's a reason why Snape couldn't move on, but, again, that is not Lily's responsibility. It seems reasonable to me that, particularly given the extreme nature of her circumstances, Lily would take into account first and foremost the actions she observed from James in the present, rather than what he did in the past. See above re: Lily owes Snape nothing.

Being selfless, kind, or a good person doesn't make one perfect.

When I say Lily was selfless, I do NOT mean that she was flawless. If this is your takeaway I worry for you. Also, enough about the Virgin Mary lol. Anyway, humans are complex, and selfless people are capable of selfishness on occasion. Everyone is. A certain amount of selfishness is not only normal, it can be a good thing and necessary for protecting yourself. When Lily ended her friendship with Sev, it was something she was doing for herself, so in the most technical sense (and it's still a huge stretch) it can be viewed as selfish. Nobody is or should be 100% selfless all the time. So even were I to concede that she was selfish in marrying James (which I don't) it doesn't preclude her being a selfless person in general.

Being selfless, kind, or a good person doesn't make a female character 'unrealistic.'

What even is this argument, honestly. Like do you just not believe in the existence of good women irl? Suspicious. I would gently suggest that if you find it unrealistic (or boring) for a woman to be a good person, that's maybe something you should take a closer look at. If your automatic assumption about a woman is that she must have married a man for his money, I would also interrogate that belief.

idk she was a teenage girl, pls develop some empathy

once you come down from your podium in the unholy tribunal, it might be worth considering female characters (and women in general) as human, and not just avatars who simply react to the emotional turmoil of men. At absolute worst you could assume that she was tricked by James (which I still disagree with, but it's a slightly more generous reading) or was blind and naive. All of which are more understandable than, for some reason, assuming she was a conniving bitch who wanted to hurt Snape and selfishly marry into wealth. Ultimately her decision to marry James probably had nothing to do with Snape at all. She was 21 when she died. Bad judgment is common at that age, and it's not necessarily a product of selfishness at all. Look, I'd understand this whole thing more if everyone was in their 30s. But is it not the teenage girl experience of all time to date an asshole? Do you have no empathy for that situation? Like I said, I'm arguing this based on the idea that James was completely irredeemable; would an abuser not abuse his girlfriend too? Would someone who is evil and cruel in all respects not also display cruelty to his wife? Can you not summon up an ounce of empathy for a 17 year old who might have thought, as many young girls do, 'I can fix him?'

To conclude, I think that the idea that Lily marrying a bully makes her a bad person is just rooted in lack of empathy for her as a character. Despite spending hours dissecting every last thought process a man might have had, there's no attempt at all to try and understand Lily's motives, rather they're considered exclusively from the perspective of Snape's emotions. This is unfair.

I don't doubt that it hurt Snape's feelings for Lily to date and marry James. But Snape's feelings are no longer her concern. She owes him nothing. Sev called his best friend a slur publicly and joined an organisation that wanted to murder her, with no respect for her feelings at all. They are no longer friends, and he has no right whatsoever to expect her to consider his own emotional needs anymore, and her choices no longer have anything to do with him. Nor should they have.

Whether or not you think it was a mistake for Lily to marry James, that's Lily's problem. Not Snape's. If you truly believe James was a monster, logically it's Lily you should be feeling sorry for. The fact that there's no empathy for her to be found, and that people revert so quickly to the Top 100 Misogyny Classic of 'she must be a gold digger' speaks for itself.

[roxoxoxoxy]

Random Nsfw Head Canons For Riize Maknae line (with Fem!Reader)

( Includes: Seunghan, Sohee and Anton )

Again, there will be so many typos in this so get ready, I didn't proof read this at all.

Also hanis section might not be the best because I got into riize after they put him on hiatus (I hate sm so bad don't get me started) and I have a hard time getting a read on him but I tried

Hyung line, Maknae line

♡ ♡ Seunghan ♡ ♡

I had a hard time getting a read on him at first because he's such a cutie (he doesn't deserve half the shit that he gets OT6 WHEN I CATCH YOOUUUU-)

But honestly after thinking about it a little bit...this man is a undercover freak, HEAR ME OUT

The type of guy to finger you under the table when you're out with friends, smiling and chatting it up with everybody as if he isn't knuckles deep inside you.

He's so sweet too, calling you "his girl" and talking about how happy he is with you as you're struggling to not make any sounds.

That's his entire thing, he'll tease you and be so so mean but he'll do it with the sweetest smile on his face.

I would consider him a strict soft dom, If you're a good girl he'll treat you like a princess, praise you day and night but if you start getting bratty with him, he'll get so mean (in a fun way 🤭)

You bent over as he's fucking you from the back, your face buried in the pillow so you can't beg for his forgiveness whenever he slaps your ass.

"Awe are you trying to say something baby? I can't hear you sweetheart"

Also a bit sadistic, loves leaving marks on you, especially ones that last for days.

Seeing you wince whenever you sit down after he spanks you gets him so hard, literally ready to go for round two right then and there.

As much as he loves when he gets to punish the brat out of you, he also loves when you're his good little girl.

It's been said before but this man is a EATER, if you behave you get your pussy ate till your brain melts out your ears.

His aftercare mainly consists of him putting on ointment where you need it and making sure you're okay, since he's the Dom it's catered to what would make you feel the best.

At your beck and call after sex, the sweetest man alive.

SIGH I MISS MY MAN

♡ ♡ Sohee ♡ ♡

Virgin loser. IM SO SORRY HSHA

I'm a loser!Sohee truther, this man hasn't been near a pussy his entire life, gets absolutely no play.

He's always been too nervous too approach women and when he started training to become an idol he just didn't have the time.

So when he meets you he's all nerves, too shy to say anything, so you'll have to be the ones to initiate things.

Probably the most submissive out of Riize mainly because he's inexperienced and more comfortable with you taking the ropes.

Cums way too fast the first few times you two do it, is super embarrassed about it but he can't help it :(

"shit- sorry- it just.... you...you feel so good I'm so sorry"

Because of that he insists he wants to learn other ways on how to please you, whether that's oral or through his hands.

In the beginning of your relationship he's kinda sloppy but what he lacks in experience he makes up for with enthusiasm.

After learning and practicing a whole bunch I honestly think he has the best head game in Riize, he lives to please.

Same with his fingers, because he has a hard time lasting during sex he got really good at basically everything else so don't worry, you'll definitely leave the experience satisfied.

Also probably the most vanilla in Riize, you're his first and he's still figuring out the ropes, definitely wouldn't be into BDSM.

Maybe over time after you've been together a while but for the time being he's more than happy with missionary.

He does eventually get over his cumming too quickly problem but he's almost disappointed, he kinda liked the humiliation. 🤭

Aftercare is more of a joint activity with him, prefers to both take care of you and be taken care of.

You've gotten in the habit of alternating who gets to be the small spoon.

He also likes to talk after sex but it's more like him quickly rambling before falling asleep mid sentence.

Also gets the cutest bed head the morning after.

♡ ♡ Anton ♡ ♡

Sigh.....MY MAN MY MAN MY MAAANNN okay sorry wait-

This is gonna be long because he's my favourite, tee hee.

I don't think he's a Virgin but he's mostly inexperienced, hasn't really done a whole lot but knows the basics.

I mean have you seen all the shit he was up to? Swimming competitively, playing the cello, being an Idol, this man doesn't have time for anything.

Also another one that takes his time dating you before you two sleep together, I don't think he'd wanna sleep with you if he wasn't sure you two would eventually be official.

Also another switch, leans dom though, specifically soft dom.

This man is PACKING, we've all seen that one screenshot, definitely the "Big and doesn't know what to do with himself" trope.

Would honestly prefer a more experienced partner, tell him what to do because he doesn't know.

Also has a size kink, you could only be like two inches shorter than him but the fact that you're shorter at all gets him going, it's not just about height either.

He's broad as hell so he loves giving you back hugs, especially when you're brushing your teeth so he can see himself engulf you, that visual really gets him going.

Unexpectedly kind of a tease, leans into kiss you but pulls back just before your lips touch his, passing you a big smile when you pout.

Also speaking of him being huge...his hands....okay listen listen.

Whenever he plays the cello I can only think of one thing...

There's no way his clit rubbing game isn't on point, not too hard, not too soft, keeps it at a consistent pace, doesn't loose it mid way...

NEED THAT. DESIRE THAT.

Also his fingers are so long? He has the biggest hands in Riize, I just know they can do some damage.

Loved laying your back against his chest and reaching down to finger you, has a arm wrapped around your waist so you can't push him away.

"sshhh it's okay baby, just stay still. let me make you feel good"

Also loves giving and recieving head, I already wrote a whole fic centered around him eating pussy so I won't go into details about that here.

He loves watching you struggle to take his cock into your mouth, it's nearly impossible to get it all down and it makes his size kink go crazy.

He rarely finishes in your mouth because seeing you struggle to suck him off makes him want to fuck you right then and there.

Gets so sleepy after sex, like wants to fall asleep then and there type of sleepy. He isn't great at aftercare solely because he gets lazy and just wants to sleep and also because again he isn't that experienced.

Will eventually get a hang of it though, will clean you up and praise you, he doesn't even really do it on purpose it just kinda slips out, how you're so pretty, how you feel so soft, how much he loves you etc etc.

Wants you to sleep on top of him because feeling your weight on top of him is comforting.

Really hope y'all like this, writing these was so fun

[softaestluv]

would you possibly do a ghost x reader where the two are sort of established enemies on base and they get into some scenario where they have to work together because everyone’s tired of how much they hate each other? 🥹

Your teeth grit at your captain's words, mouth falling opening to protest, “Captain, please forgive me, but I am not doing that with him.”

You feel like an insolent child, it's not like you to protest a direct order from your captain; you respected him far more than that. Though, you dont necessarily hold those same opinions for the masked man standing in front of Price’s desk with you. This wasn’t exactly a secret, everyone on base— including your captain, knew the resentment the two of you had for each other.

However, this wasn’t your fault; it was all his.

When you were assigned to the task force, you were nothing but kind, gracious even. Developed close friendships with everyone, but Ghost. Though it wasn’t for a lack of trying; you had tried restlessly to build a bond with him. If you were going to be on his team the least you needed was to trust the man. So, you kept trying to make it happen, but he turned all your attempts down, arrogantly replied with smart remarks or just actively ignored you. Completely silent with a frigid stare.

So, you gave up, stopped trying to please a man who could not be pleased. Let him crawl under your skin in ways no one had before, clenched your jaw tightly in irritation every time you passed him on base. Temples pulsing in aggravation each time you two made eye contact across the room.

Snarled at him during training when he pushed you a little harder than the rest of the sergeants, when he made you run one more extra lap than everyone else or stay behind to clean sweaty and soiled mats in the gym while the rest of them went out for drinks. Wished you could spit at his feet when he denied sparring with you, muttered nonchalantly that you simply weren’t strong enough.

All decency you had for him dissipated after that, insignificant and shattered. Stomped your way across the mat and pressed your finger against his chest.

“Fuck you.”

Ghost laughed. Cackled in your fucking face, had your blood boiling in your veins, “I’d like to see you try.”

Your fist clenched at your side, pointer finger at his chest gripped at the neckline of his shirt, balling it in your palms.

“Sergeant,” Price’s voice rang from the entrance of the gym, arms crossed over his chest, “Stand down.”

Which is how you found yourself in your current predicament, a stupid glimmer in his eyes at your apparent irritation. Granted, you probably shouldn’t have cussed at your superior, but you had dealt with his brazen attitude for entirely too long.

A piece of you felt bad about the entire situation, not for Ghost, but for the rest of the task force. They were forced to listen to the two of you bicker over the comms, growl at each other during dinner, sit in the thick tension everytime the two of you were in the same room. Though, Soap always joked that ‘you two just needed tae shag and get it ower wi’.’

But you couldn’t stop yourself, not when the cocky asshole turned to you with a mischievous glint, every syllable drenched in his stupid Manchester accent, “You can’t clean a couple tables, sergeant?”

You bit your tongue harshly, “I can do that just fine. I’d just rather do it without you there.”

Price exhaled exasperatedly, rubbing at his temples, “That’s enough from the both of you. If the two of you can’t do something as simple as cleaning the mess hall together then maybe neither of you belong on the task force.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, diverting your gaze defiantly, but still the both of you muttered a ‘yes, sir.’

Honestly, the task wasn’t that hard, the two of you had to clean the mess hall in preperation for an upcoming event on base. A relatively simple task for the military, better than running excess laps. You weren’t exactly sure how this was supposed to be ‘team bonding’considering the fact the two of you would be cleaning opposite sides of the mess hall. Wouldn’t interact with each other unless the two of you physically had to. It was more of punishment for the two of you to get your shit together and shut the hell up rather than becoming best acquaintances.

So, you did it, for the sake of the rest of your team. It would easy enough, but it seemed you had marginally underestimated your lieutenant’s animosity towards you.

You were half way through scrubbing the tiled floors on your hands and knees before you realized Ghost had left. You willed the anger pulsing your temples away, collecting yourself with a deep breath because maybe he would be back soon.

Except he never fucking came back, found him lounging in the rec room, leisurely sipping a cup of tea like he hadn’t left you to scrub at the grease and grime in the kitchen for two hours alone.

You stood in front of his spot, hands on your hips, “Hey asswipe.”

He lifted his head up at you, like he had barely noticed you standing there before tilting his head to the side, “Hmm?”

“You were supposed to be helping me clean the mess hall.” You spat, pointing to the door of the room.

“Just thought you could handle it all on your own,” He remarked, feigning innocence as he tapped his chin like he was deep in thought, “Surely somethin’ as simple as that wasn’t too hard for you, was it, doll?”

You fluttered your eyes shut, tried your best to stop yourself from decking your lieutenant square in his fucking skull mask. Would enjoy it entirely too much to smash the stupid porcelain between your palms. Instead, you replayed Price’s words in your head, remembered all the times Soap and Gaz made dealing with a man such as Ghost worth it.

You smiled down at your lieutenant because if it was his goal to get you kicked out of the task force, well you would do everything in your power to keep that from happening. Wouldn’t play along in his game as long as it pissed him off, ruined his plan.

[filmtv2022]

Part II: Our Time is Limited (18+)

Part One

Pairing: Geta x reader & platonic!Caracalla x reader

Synopsis: Geta and you deal with the aftermath of Caracalla's outburst, finding comfort in each other. Not only is there Caracalla's illness to attend to, but those who surround the emperors are growing more and more weary of their reign. As loyalty wanes, so does the inner circle's patience with your ever-constant presence and the emperors' hot tempers. With so much at stake the balance between keeping the peace and protecting those you love becomes muddy.

Warnings: sexual activity/smut + alcohol consumption + wounds/wound care

A/N: Well, this took a while to write, and I feel like there is more I want to add to this story. So, be on the lookout for part 3 (There may even be a few more parts if it continues to be well received)! I truly cannot say how thankful I am for the response to part 1. I felt the love for sure! So thank you to everyone who read that and has stuck with me here! And as always, please forgive me for any and all mistakes. We're going for a "fun" time... not always a historically accurate time!

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No light apart from the moon illuminated the grand bed chamber of the emperor upon your waking. Depending on how it was considered, the hour was either incredibly early or late. No sound could be heard from the hall or the open balcony. The silence should have been comforting, but a nagging pit in your stomach kept you from returning to sleep. A chill had collected in the air. Reprieve from its sting came in the form of Geta’s study frame tangled with yours beneath the luscious sheets. His body produced heat like a raging fire whose flames were fed with rage and the desperate clamber for power.

His protective warmth painted your skin in a heavy flush. Your head tipped back to stare at the man whose body melded with yours in a way that surely must have been crafted by the gods. Like this, lost to sleep, Geta’s youth was easy to see. The healthy glow of his unmarred skin was alluring, drawing your hand from under the covers you traced delicate patterns over his toned chest. Tension in your hip forced you to adjust yourself. Shifting your weight, you accidentally brushed the wound on your cheek. The sudden flash of fresh pain rippled in erratic shocks down the tender column of your throat causing you to hiss. Beside you, Geta stirred in his sleep. 

Uncomfortable and fighting back the multitude of possibilities that flooded your mind, you gave in to the reality that returning to sleep was growing less and less likely. Prone to fitful sleep, even with the sedative, Caracalla was sure to begin fighting his forced slumber sooner rather than later. As carefully as you could, you tried to extricate yourself from Geta’s embrace. You’d managed to free your bare thighs from between his own when the groggy grumble of his voice stopped you cold. 

“Where are you going?” He reached for you, hauling you back before finally opening his eyes. Your chest sat flush with his, and your good cheek rested on him, as his feather-light touch sought any part of you he could reach. The shapes he drew were hypnotizing, jumbling the words in your head. Concerned by your lack of reply, Geta rolled you on your back, allowing him to see your entire face as he rested his weight over part of your body. “It’s early. Stay with me a few hours more.” 

“You know as well as I do the fickle nature of the sedative. I do not wish for him to wake alone. He can be… He can be so scared and lost without a familiar face to ground him when he comes to.” Messy strands of hair stuck to his forehead, tempting you to fix them. With a ghosting touch, you brushed them away from his face. The rich hue of his eyes followed your every move. 

“And you will be there when he needs you, but that is not now. For now, I need you… here… in my bed.” He followed his thought with the trail lips between your breasts. Each graze was accompanied by a tender bite, leaving behind more evidence of the night only he’d be blessed enough to see.  Geta continued to move lower, tasting every inch of skin he could find before pausing to look back at you through hooded lids. The arch of your spine sent heat washing over him.

Struggling to breathe properly, you reached for any part of him you could find. The flare of pleasure that overtook you as Geta came closer to where you wanted him was blinding. With eyes screwed shut, you couldn’t keep the huff of laughter from escaping as you spoke, “You are insatiable, emperor.” 

Nipping at your hipbone he murmured against flushed skin. “I am making up for lost time.” Threading your deft fingers through his messy copper locks, you gripped at the root and tugged roughly earning you a delicious hum. Geta's focus became entirely on drawing those delicious noises from you once more, and to that end he was successful. Gooseflesh ran over your body as chilled air drifted all around. With nothing between you and the emperor, you fell completely to his mercy and desire. 

Geta’s shoulders dipped lower allowing him to wrap one defined arm around your thigh while the other explored the marks he’d created earlier. From his position, he could feel the way your body quaked under his touch. The power he had over you with just the help of his tongue and calloused fingers threw every unwanted thought and worry to the side. This was all he wanted, all he’d ever desired. What once remained fantasy was now freely given. 

A particularly well-placed kiss had you rolling your hips searching for more. Geta’s teasing no longer satisfied the well of lust that threatened to drown you alive. On instinct, your hold tightened, hauling a rumbling groan from him that nearly eclipsed the pitful whimper in which you begged.

“Geta… Please…”

Skimming along your body with his own, he felt the buttery expanse of your skin. Your pebbled breasts pressed into his chest as his breath ghosted in your ear. “Use your words, tell me what you crave.”

“I want you. I want to feel-.” You were cut off by the drag of his fingertips along your most sensitive of skin. The nerves there fired in quick succession, leaving you to focus on the journey his mouth took along the slope of your shoulder. Unsatisfied, yearning for the weight of him, you reached between you. The fragile strength of your trembling fingers wrapped around his cock. Rolling your wrist, Geta shivered. His hips twitched ruining his self-control.

“Then you shall have me.” Were it not for his desperation to fulfill your every wish, he could have stayed like this and let you bring him to his release with just the delectable skill of your hand. Without fanfare, Geta moved quickly, the firm press of him hard against your core had you moaning in anticipation. His lips captured yours in a devouring kiss pulling the focus from the pressure that built as he pressed into you. Your plush walls spasmed in time with the roll of his hips into your own. Tongues and teeth clashed in a fight for control. Even here, where he felt the most vulnerable as if his soul was laid bare for you to consume, he clung to the power that acted as a crutch in his daily life. But the fight was a losing battle.

Geta’s eye fluttered shut, closing him off from you as he buried his countenance into the crook of your neck, and that simply wouldn’t do. You knew this part of him, the boy, now man, that retreated inside himself when things grew too much.  The bold and confident facade he put on for the public was a disguise that few had been able to decipher... apart from you. Tenderly, you traced the length of his spine, paying attention to the way he shuddered under your touch. Much softer than before, you wound your fingers through his hair while guiding his brow to your own.

“Look at me. Do not hide from me now.”  Your words enveloped him, easing him back to the present and away from whatever tried to steal him from you. Carefully Geta met your eyes. Their normal severity was absent, replaced with the soft haze of adoration. 

“I love you.” The tender confession tumbled from your lips, and the truth of it shattered the last vestiges of the barrier that ran between you. All walls had been abandoned. The steady snap of his thrusts brought the pair of you closer to oblivion. Together you fell, the steady crash of energy over every nerve filled the space with heady moans of pleasure. 

Too soon for your liking the moment waned, leaving you breathless and weak beneath him. Geta rested his weight along his forearms to prevent crushing you. From his position, he watched a new line of crimson spill down your cheek. The sight of it brought a flood of unwanted emotions swirling in his stomach.

“You're bleeding again.” His voice wobbled with exhaustion and worry. The thick pad of his thumb brushed away the evidence, smearing the dried blood from hours before with the bright hue of that which flowed currently. From this proximity, Geta got a truer picture of your condition. Deep patches of black and purple bloomed across your cheek and brow, but that was not what fumbled the rhythm of his heart.

The hidden outline of fingers around the base of your throat undid him. Masked by the layer of dried ichor that coated your throat he saw the depth of his brother’s illness. Never had he imagined Caracalla would be capable of hurting you in this way. The slice of a blade had been beyond reason, but his hand around your throat… that was unconscionable. 

Rage burned hot, the flare of his nostrils timed with the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he tried to calm himself. You knew without a doubt the thoughts that sped through his mind. Anger, disbelief, sorrow but most of fury. “I will never let him lay his hands upon you again.” 

“Please, don’t make promises you can’t keep, Geta.” Something new flashed in his eyes as he looked down at you, and the sight of it broke tender and soft. “Even you cannot keep me safe from him, not entirely. I want to believe that everything wrong about our lives will right itself in time, but that is a childish, fool-hardy thought. Even you cannot deny that.”

“Why? This is… what we share… Why cannot we find a way out of this mess together? Shouldn’t we be allowed happiness?” The same reasoning from the night before returned. A pitiful well of dampness pooled at the corners of his eyes. The dejected young man who looked to others for reassurance in everything he did bore himself to you fully.  “I can keep you safe. Do you trust me?” 

“With my life.” You reached for him, pulling his lips to yours in a sympathetic and calming embrace. It lasted just long enough for his breathing to settle and his mind to slow. Gently, Geta shifted his weight away from your body giving you space to recover. Torn from his steadying presence, you rolled onto your side following him with your gaze as he slipped from the bed. He pulled a robe from the floor and wrapped it around himself.  Exhaustion crossed your vision and dulled your mind, lulling you closer to sleep. Only the gentle clink of glass against glass kept you from falling away entirely.  

Geta returned to you quickly, his hands full of what appeared to be vials of acetum and honey, two clean cloths resting over his wrist. Finding a spot to deposit the vials on the bed, he took one of the rags. With some hesitation, he reached between your plush thighs, wiping away the mess the pair of you'd made. The sudden jolt of your hips as he reached your core slowed his hand, easing the strength with which he worked. Your weight settled back into the plush sheets as he finished and discarded the cloth upon the flood.

“Sit up.” His words were tender,  holding none of the desperation from before. Following his command,  you lifted yourself from the comfort of the bed, the sheets crumpled further under your movement. Geta’s eyes raked over your body, admiring the swell of your bare breasts and the curve of your waist. A glint of something more akin to lust was shown briefly before he settled into the space next to you. With practiced care and thoughtful hands, the emperor cleansed your wounds and removed the remnants of dried blood. Your focus never left his face as he worked. Instead, you took the time to memorize the tug of concentration between his brows. Deep lines formed there creating a picture of what was to come, of an older Geta, of an emperor marked by the passage of time. You prayed the gods would favor you, for that was a vision you prayed to see in person. 

“There, that’s better.” Geta twisted to discard the vials and cloth upon the nearby stand. “Come, let us sleep. The day is sure to be long enough without the edge of weariness dulling our minds.” 

Slowly, you sank back into each other’s arms, your bodies together in perfect harmony as sleep overtook the pair of you.

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Fresh morning light seeped into the sea of curtains around the bed chamber. Were it not for the pressing knaw of anxiety, you’d have happily stayed curled in Geta’s arms. But that was not a possibility. Knowing that time was running short to return to Caracalla before he woke, you extricated yourself from the comfort of your lover's embrace. 

The marble was startlingly cold beneath your feet forcing you to work quickly to find your discarded robe. The memory of the night before was stunningly clear making it easy to find your blood-stained clothes. Stooping, you grabbed the creamy fabric, shoving your arms inside before tying it tightly around your waist. 

You chanced a glance over your shoulder at Geta who was still peaceful in his bed. Without further hesitation, you disengaged the lock and made your way into the mostly empty hall. Only two guards remained posted to protect the emperor. Thankfully, the comings and goings of women from Geta’s chamber were nothing new. Your presence there may have been different from the norm, but it was hardly shocking given the previous night’s difficulties. 

Your bare footsteps, pounded down the hallway toward Caracalla, praying to the gods that you’d find him asleep. Rounding the corner, you watched as the guards parted to allow you into the room. There were no questions or need to exchange words, this room had been your home for more than a decade. Not a soul would question your presence inside. 

Caracalla’s living quarters were nearly as extravagant as his brothers. The only strange addition was that of his pet monkey who sat alert on the table, gnawing at the fresh fruit that had been placed there the night before for his consumption. Dundus chirped at your arrival, announcing it to his still-slumbering owner. Curled in a ball on his side, the emperor lay oddly upon the covers.

There was nothing comfortable or dignified about how he was left. With soft steps, you made your way to him. His chest rose and fell in shallow waves marking the hold the medication still had upon his mind. Much the same as his brother, he looked far younger in sleep, and yet with Caracalla, the evidence of his poor health would never fully disappear. The sores on his face had broken through the remnants of the makeup on his tear-stained cheeks. A measure of guilt flooded your veins, churring the acid in your empty stomach and forcing you into action. 

Beside the vanity sat a pitcher of clean water and a rag you’d readied before things fell apart the previous evening. It had become your nightly ritual to clean Caracalla’s face of the day’s makeup before covering each mark upon his skin with acetum and honey. It kept the bond between you strong as you were the only person he allowed to care for him in that way.

Coming face to face with the mirror, you did your best to avoid your reflection, but ignoring it was nearly impossible. Your fingers wrapped around the pitcher as you poured it into the empty bowl that sat in the center of the flat surface. The motion was done on instinct giving you time to assess your injuries personally. 

A deep purple swath had formed around your eye, seeping down below the slash that marked your cheekbone. The bruise throbbed with every flick of your eye, but it was the deep cut that truly pained you. A thin line of dried blood sat in the wound creating a gruesome visage. Nothing could hide the terrifying mark of the fingers that had closed around your throat before the final attack. Even in the light of day, you could feel their presence as though the hand remained heavy against you.

Glancing dead ahead into the mirror, the most terrifying part of all was not the injuries, it was not knowing who would wake up and rejoin the world when Caracalla rose. The pitcher clanked against the stone as you sat it down to grab the cloth. Dampening the thin fabric, you wrung it out and collected the vial of acetum and jar of honey to soothe his sores before returning to the emperor. There was just enough space on the edge of the bed for you to sit near his head. With gentle strokes, you cleansed his face, being sure to give extra care to spots of broken skin. Free of the mask, the progression of his illness became more apparent. Using the same rag, you dabbed the acetum on each of the marks before following with the golden liquid in the hope that it would provide some relief.  

It took only minutes for you to finish caring for the emperors’s needs, but it felt like an eternity. Part of you hoped he would wake as you worked but another part of you prayed he would continue to rest. Discarding the rag and other supplies nearby, you found yourself gravitating toward Caracalla’s slumbering frame. A deep ache radiated deep in your soul, gripping you tightly in an unrelenting hold. No matter how far he’d fallen, no matter the faults of his mind, this man would forever be yours. He’d forever be the one who captured your heart first and for that, you were eternally grateful. 

The bridge of your nose burned as you fell into his presence. The clean scent of his robes mixed with the bitter tang of wine that clung to him.  Fearful of letting him go, you wrapped an arm around his side and hauled yourself close. Your fists twisted into the flowing fabric at his back as you hid your face in his chest. Shrouded in him, your lungs hitched, tears streamed in searing lines down your cheeks, stinging the raw skin around your wound. But that was secondary to the hole that grew in your heart every time you allowed yourself to contemplate Caracalla's remaining time. 

Hours slipped away unnoticed, leaving the pair of you to while away the minutes in each other’s arms. In time, the gods must have favored your first desire, for as the blinding rays of early morning crept toward midday, Caracalla stirred beside you. Uncertain of what was to come, you kept your visage concealed.

“Good morning, my love. How does the new day find you?” Your voice trembled with worry as you watched him push to sit beside you. A hazy fog slowed his mind and his speech, forcing you to be patient as he reached out to touch your cheek. His brows pulled together in concern at the sight. The soft brush of his fingertips over the cut sent fresh lances of hurt zinging down your neck. Still silent, Caracalla watched the way you recoiled from him before attempting to speak. 

“You are injured. Who hurt you?” There was so much innocence in his eyes. Without question, there was no memory of the previous night, and for that you were thankful. Caracalla knowing that he’d caused you this pain would have done nothing but burden an already fragile man with more turmoil. 

You shook your head, hoping to shove off the worry as best you could. “No one hurt me. I decided to venture to the baths after too much wine. I lost my footing and slipped. It is my fault.” With what little strength you could muster, you sat up fully beside him. 

“Does it hurt terribly?” He took your hand and held it in his lap.

“No, not terribly.” Your free hand rose to hold his cheek, “I promise.” Quiet fell over the pair you allowing Caracalla to trace the map of bruises that marred your neck. Even he noticed the odd shape of the marks low upon your throat. You could see the thought teeter on his lips for a moment before the words tumbled from him so childlike and sincerely. Nearly the same words his brother had spoken to you just hours earlier.

“I will always protect you, you must know that.” He held your gaze tightly in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand while he waited for you to respond. 

“I do. I do.” And the falsehood of your reply brought fresh tears to your eyes. Despite the many factors that stood between you and the happy life you'd once thought possible with Caracalla, you loved him beyond reason. Even though you were losing your best friend in real-time to an illness that was as mysterious in its origin as in its timeline of destruction, you trusted him. He’d stood by your side, welcoming you into the fray all those years ago. Never did he shame your lack of knowledge about the way things in the upper crust of Roman society worked. He was a good man at his core.

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Chaos had taken over Caracalla’s chamber as the day’s newest adventures in the Colosseum grew nearer.  Dressed in an opulent stola, you chanced a glance at the fiery-haired many who sat behind you. Nearly done being dressed, only a crown of laurels remained. Seated in a low chair, he fiddled with the jewelry that adorned his hands and neck. Taking advantage of his distraction, and unable to ignore the desire to be near him, you made your way across the cavernous room to Caracalla. Stepping between his legs you reached back to grab the golden crown in your delicate fingers. With great care you placed it upon his head, fixing his disheveled hair as it poked out in awkward angles. From his spot, he watched in awe, his eyes never leaving your face. 

“There, now you are ready to face your adoring public. May the gods make their will known in the arena this day.” You stooped to place a gentle kiss on the middle of his forehead. The gesture was one of trust and friendship. 

Overwhelmed, you stood upright and took a step back from the emperor. You’d only just begun to turn around when a gentle hand clasped around your wrist forcing you to turn back to Caracalla. His voice was barely more than a whisper as he spoke to you, “Promise you’ll stay with me.” 

“Always.” Caracalla brought your knuckles to his lips before letting you go. 

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The journey to the arena was relatively short. Inside the emperor’s box, the brothers took their seats and were followed in by General Acacius and Lucilla. You watched from the back, observing the pair with keen eyes and a skeptical mind. The two seemed stiff and out of place, their eyes shifting from side to side as though they were about to crawl out of their skin. Pressured to speak, the general stood before the cheering crowd, commanding attention, but something about his words left you feeling ill. The look on his face as he turned around to join his wife was enough to confirm your suspicion. Something was wrong. Long past were the days when Rome’s general was faithful without question to the throne. And now had come the time when enemies were around every corner, to be found most slyly in the people who were meant to be trusted confidantes. 

Commotion filled the arena pulling your attention away from Acacius and Lucilla and permitting you to step into the space between Geta and Caracalla. Chancing a glance at each of them you found Geta’s eyes were already on you, following your approach like a hawk. He raked over your frame, admiring the way the fabric draped over your body, and followed the swell of your chest. Not wanting to risk unwanted attention, you met his gaze for only a moment before turning to engage with Caracalla. A guileless smile turned the corners of his lips as his high-pitched laughter bounced through the air.

Trusting in the power of the gods, you watched with rapt attention as the foreign gladiator made a fool of the man from the emperor’s stables.  Spared by the gods the man tempted fate before ending the fight altogether. Blood pooled beneath the decapitated fighter, painting the sandy ground in a sickening shade of red. 

With the fight over, everyone of note retreated inside where the festivities were sure to continue late into the night. Yet, as you turned to make your way across the room, you noticed the look on Lucilla’s face. She held firmly to the bundle of lavender propped beneath her nose, her face was pale as though the life had been drained from her veins. Her eyes darted from Acacius to the young gladiator that stalked across the sand toward the fighter’s cells. There was a hint of something more there that you failed to place, but it did little to settle your growing suspicions. 

Unable to address it at this moment, you trained your attention back on Caracalla who was chatting away about the fight, retelling the tale to those around him as though they hadn’t just watched it unfold. Stepping into his side, you laced your arm through his, holding tightly to his bicep, and tucked yourself into him. Geta, caught in a conversation with some verbose senator, tracked your movement toward his brother noticing every detail of you. His concern grew stronger as he watched you press your nose into the voluminous material of his brother’s elaborate toga hiding your countenance before pressing onto your toes to whisper in the emperor’s ear. A chaste peck was placed upon his brother’s cheek, earning you a wondrous grin.

Caracalla nodded, before letting you fall away from his side. The young man turned back to the small group that had formed around him and continued his elaborate story. With his blessing, you were free to pick your way through the crowd toward the plethora of wine and food that covered the table at the center of the room. Admiring the choices, you meandered your way from one end to the other sampling every dried fruit and cured meat before settling on a deliciously dark cup of wine. The steady throb in your cheek had you wish for something a bit more potent than alcohol, but alas, that would have to wait. 

Refilling your nearly empty glass, you wandered the space, keeping a keen eye on both Caracalla and Geta. Each remained wrapped in conversation but their demeanors couldn’t be more dissimilar. Where Caracalla continued his lively storytelling, basking in the unwavering attention of his growing entourage, Geta’s face grew increasingly pinched at whatever meaningless drivel the senators believed required the prompt and full attention of him alone. You knew this has become commonplace, the passing over of Caracalla when discussing politics, and yet it rolled your stomach to see it happening so blatantly in public. 

Finished with your lap, you swooped by the table to collect another glass of wine. On a mission to relieve Geta of his trap, you made your way to him, confidently plucking your way through the sea of people. You could feel the burn of jealous and questioning eyes on you. Your presence amongst these circles had become expected long ago and yet it never prevented people from casting judgment upon you. The tender mark upon your face only added fuel to the fire, giving the people exactly what they wanted… more about which to gossip about. 

You closed the last few paces between you and Geta, reveling in the horrified look on the senator's face as you reached for the emperor’s shoulder. Gently, you placed a hand on him, drawing his attention away. “Here, some wine, to fortify your political endeavors.” Ignoring the hanging jaws and scoffs of the other men you carefully handed Geta the drink soaking in the entrancing way his eyes seemed to glow in the light. Their depth fell away to a brighter almost amber hue. But it was not just his gaze that held the knot in your chest, but the emotion that sat heavy in every fiber of his being. 

Desire darkened across his face as he memorized the stillness of your features. Geta’s ringed fingers brushed your own bare skin, taking far longer than was necessary to receive the beverage from you. A distinct cough of indignation erupted from one of the older politicians forcing you to step back. Geta gave a slight nod, silently passing you permission to fall away knowing that he judged you not for wanting to escape the calloused opinions of those he was forced to surround himself with. The swish of your stola accented your departure.  Behind you, the conversation returned in hushed tones, but the swell of the crowd did little to mask the biting words.  

“That woman has grown far to forward with you and your brother, Geta. It appears it may be time to let her go, and replace her with someone more docile… refined. Perhaps now the pair of you should consider proper marriages, for the future of Rome.” The old man’s voice croaked grating into the momentary silence that fell after he finished speaking.

With your back turned to Geta you were unable to see the vicious sneer that came over the emperor’s face. Far enough away now, his words were lost to the crowd in which you disappeared. Only the need to maintain peace for your sake kept him from exploding. A deep breath filled his chest and shook through his nose as he tested the surety of his voice. “That woman belongs to my brother, and to m- to the household. Her actions are neither unexpected nor uncouth. And may I suggest senator, that you keep her out of your filthy whoring mouth or you may find your own midnight wanderings publicized for all to discuss. Am I clear?” 

“Yes.” The older man murmured. His eyes dropped to the ground, uncertain of how to proceed. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I believe there are others far more worthy of my time to which I must attend.” Geta bowed out hastily, the venom in his voice dripped from every word keeping the other tongues silent. 

Heavy footfalls pounded across the stone toward you, following your path away from the crowd in search of temporary solitude. Nearing a quiet alcove, you pressed yourself into the chill of the marble. Exhausted and aching, you felt your legs tremble, forcing you to slump down upon the unforgiving bench that lined the wall. The distant rumbling of the crowd was accented by the approach of another. Unsure of what to say, you let your eyes fall shut, keeping out the world around you, and perhaps buying you some time to come to grips with your thoughts. 

The steps slowed, and yet you didn’t bother to open your eyes. “You mustn’t listen to them. They are feeble-minded old men. They matter matter not.” Geta spoke, hoping you would look at him. 

Concern masked as anger flashed hot over your nerves, forcing you to stand and crowd into his space. Your open palms found his chest, shoving his sturdy frame away as you worked to control your volume. “You cannot say those things, Geta. You need them, whether you care for that reality or not. Without the Senate, Rome is nothing. In a heartbeat, they have you and your brother deposed. There are snakes in the water, Geta. Do not let your loose tongue be what brings about your ruin!” 

Geta’s hand came to hold your wrists in place against him, the feeling of your touch the only thing that kept him from giving into the dizzying spin of his head. “What are you saying?! You of all people-” 

“I’m saying take great care with what you say and to whom you say. There are those within your inner circle who wish to see you and Caracalla fall, no matter how that happens. The ends would justify the means in their eyes. The senators are only part of your problem.” You choked on the end of your confession, the reality heavy in your chest. 

Geta’s hold on you changed. One hand skimmed along your curves finding home at the nip of your waist while the other cupped your injured cheek, tipping your face to his. “Do not be afraid. Tell me what you know.”  

“I’m not afraid, not for myself. But for you and Caracalla… that is an entirely different story. And as far as what I know... it is nothing, it has to be nothing. Just my anxious mind getting the better of me.” 

“Do not keep this inside, it will only eat away at you.” He spoke deeply, understanding the truth behind what he’d spoken despite often leaving this advice alone for himself. 

“You expect more of me than of yourself when it comes to honesty.” Lingering frustration gave way to weariness. Struggling to keep yourself together, you rested your brow against Geta's chest. The silk of his clothing soothed your nerves. Held carefully in his arms, you could feel the feather-light touch of his lips as he kissed your temple.

“Nothing gets past you.” A soft smile wrapped around his words. Pressed together in the relative seclusion you'd managed to find, Geta inhaled the warm scent of wine and perfume that swirled around you. The beautiful bouquet went to his head, adding to the hazy buzz he cultivated through a touch too much to drink.

"Pay no mind to the anxious ramblings of a palace whore. I know little of what I fear. I should never have voiced my concern, it is not my place. Forgive me." You kept your face buried in the elaborate folds of his toga, letting the sturdiness of him continue to calm your body.

"Do not call yourself that." Geta leaned back, forcing you to look at him. Tenderly, he held your face, taking extra care to avoid your wound. "You are not. You never have been."

"No, I am. They are right. A real marriage. A wife… children… a son to bear the family name. That is what you both need. What you deserve."

"You are avoiding your worry. Deflecting. You may speak freely with me, you know this. There are no others here to judge or condemn. You have my ear and my heart." Geta captured your mouth with his, earning him the ghost of a whimper. Breaking away before things could escalate, he waited patiently for your response. "Now tell me what you fear so that I may carry that burden with you."

"I will not speak of it here. Not where prying eyes and ears shift all around. I know the palace is no better when it comes to the fiery spread of rumors and lies, but this place… it thrives on blood. It screams for it. It makes me ill. Not here. Meet me tonight, at the baths. I promise… I will share everything."

You reached for Geta, needing to feel him close once more. Slotting your lips together, you felt the fine strands of his hair between your fingers.

"Tonight." He mumbled against your lips.

Part III