Sevika X Motherly!Reader

thank you for the tag @abbysgolf-club (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

So here's my list<<

• Hozier- Take me to church

• Connie Francis- Stupid Cupid

• Ruth Etting - It All Belongs to me

• Rahat Fateh Ali Khan- Afreen Afreen

• Adele- Easy on me

• Avril Lavigne- Hello Kitty

• 6arelyhuman & Horrormovies- XOXO (Kisses hugs)

• Cavetown- fall in love with a girl

• Atif Aslam- Tu Chahiyew

Aurora- The Seed

• Taylor Swift- Safe and sound

• Chappel Roan- Femininomenon

• Olivia Rodrigo- Brutal

• Lana del Ray- Dark Paradise

• Twenty One Pilots- The line

My tags are @ditzycafe and @IIIIzn9090

she is sooooooo cute (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS MOMENT

synopsis: what’ll happen when Yamaguchi Tadashi realizes he likes boys— his best friend, Tsukishima Kei, to be exact?

a/n: did i make myself cry while writing this? yes, yes i did. but this is for all you TsukkiYama shippers ;)

cw: *let me know if i missed something* angst, bullying, violence, blood (kinda), use of sexual slur, fluffy ending

i wanna give a huge thanks/shoutout to @usami-ichigo for helping w the title and beta-reading 🥺

word count: 1,593

Yamaguchi Tadashi and Tsukishima Kei have been friends since primary school; Tsukishima having helped the latter from some bullies. They have been by each other’s side since then- it’s rare to see one without the other.

For some odd reason, Yamaguchi had begun to- at times- get shy around Tsukishima in their last year of middle school- his stomach feeling weird and tingly. He would also find himself daydreaming about the latter. Wait, he’s my best friend, so why is this happening. I can’t like him; it’s impossible because I’m supposed to like girls- not boys.

Yamaguchi was very open with his mother and explained his feelings to her. “Tadashi, baby, I believe you may have a crush on Kei.”

Tearing up, he said, “b-but I’m supposed to like girls- not boys.”

“Tadashi, look at me,” there she goes with her soft voice and equally soft hands grabbing his face, turning it towards her. She wiped the tears off his cheeks with her thumbs while sending him a warm, comforting smile with a soft look in her eyes. “It’s okay if you like boys. You’re allowed to like whoever you want.”

“But won’t kids make fun of me? Won’t Tsukki be disgusted by me?” Just the thought alone is enough to send him into a panic. His mother hugged him, cooing words of consolation.

That night was when Yamaguchi Tadashi realized he had feelings for his best friend, Tsukishima Kei.

Fast forward a few months from his middle school promotion to his first year in high school: his feelings only grew as time passed. Thankfully, he was able to hide them from Tsukishima. But not from his classmates.

One day before volleyball practice, Yamaguchi was turning a corner when he bumped into someone. The person pushed Yamaguchi to the ground, looking at him with a look of disgust. “Watch where you’re going fag,” he spat out, emphasizing the last word. Yamaguchi looked down at his pants, his face flushing out of embarrassment.

“Hey, he’s blushing. I think he liked it,” the guy’s friend said, causing him to cackle.

“Oh, so you like that degrading shit? You kinky ass fag.”

“Repulsive.” The two looked at each other for a brief moment before nodding and kicking Yamaguchi. All the poor boy could do was curl into a ball and protect his head with his hands. The first boy grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up and off the ground, and gave him a harsh blow to the face; he’s going to have a black eye and busted lip after this. He threw Yamaguchi back on the ground and spit on him before walking away, laughing, with his friend.

None of the bystanders that watched the whole thing did anything to help him; they all just stood there, watching everything unfold as if it were some MMA match on TV. Yamaguchi heard some of the whispers from those that were around:

“I heard that he’s sucked off some of the teachers for a better grade.”

“I heard he gives himself up for money.”

“Guys like him disgust me.”

“He should go to hell for being gay.”

Yamaguchi tried to fight back the tears threatening to spill out from his eyes. He stood up from his place on the ground and continued on his way to the boys’ locker rooms.

He was relieved to see that it was empty. He wasn’t ready to be interrogated by his teammates. He stripped himself of the white uniform shirt- which had some faint tints of red. Yamaguchi drew his eyebrows together in confusion and looked down to examine the wounds; they were already forming dark purple bruises and had some small cuts. He opened his locker door and spared a glance towards the small mirror attached to the inside of it.

He was right; he did have a busted lip, and a bruise was also forming around his right eye with a small cut on his brow bone. Lightly bringing his fingers into contact with his swelling eye, he winced in pain. Tears started to form in his eyes again, no, not now. Just wait until later. I can’t cry right now. So he finished changing into his clothes for practice, slamming the locker door shut, and walking to the gym.

Stepping into the gym, Sugawara greeted him. “Hey, Yamaguchi!” and the latter mumbled a small hey in response. Sugawara’s eyes grew wide once he saw Yamaguchi’s state: busted lip, bruised eye, and slightly limping.

“Yamaguchi, are you okay?! What happened?” His senpai questioned, rushing over to him; this gained the other members’ attention, their eyes also blowing wide.

Yamaguchi ignored his question, only causing Sugawara to grow more worried. “Hey, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled in response. Once he got to his usual spot in the gym, he saw Tsukishima looking at him, concern and anger laced into his usually stoic expression. Yamaguchi tried to avoid his best friend’s gaze but couldn’t. Just one look into Tsukishima’s eyes was enough to have tears stream down Yamaguchi’s face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tsuksihima asked in a hushed voice. Yamaguchi gave a small nod in response and told his best friend what had happened- only loud enough for the latter to hear.

“So what if you are [gay]? Why the fuck do they care?” There was pure anger in Tsukishima’s voice, face gaining a tint of red from it. “Who was it? You know what,” he walked away from his spot and sped walked out of the gym.

“Tsukki? Where are you going?” the latter asked, rushing after him.

“I’ll just find them myself.”

“Stop.” Tsukishima kept walking, ignoring Yamaguchi’s attempts to stop him.

“Please, just leave it be.” Still, Yamaguchi was being ignored, which only made him grow frustrated. “Tsukishima Kei!” the other came to a sudden halt hearing Yamaguchi call him by his full name. “I said,” Yamaguchi’s voice was shaky, “stop. Leave it alone.”

“I can’t!” the other shouted, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration.

“Tsukki, stop.”

“I can’t!” Yamaguchi flinched at his shout.

“Please, Tsukki.”

“I can’t just let this go; why don’t you understand that, Yamaguchi?”

“Because it’s nothing! You’re just going to make things worse. It doesn’t matter anymore. It already happened; it’s in the past. Just let it go.”

Yamaguchi started walking away when Tsukishima grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. “Ts- Tsukki?” He just stood there, in the other’s arms, confused.

“I can’t let this go,” Tsukishima’s voice was softening, “because it pains me to see you like this.”

“Why do you care?” Yamaguchi tried to say sharply, but instead, it came out shaky.

“I’ve always cared, and I’m sorry for not showing it.”

He pushed the other away, “just stop. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“Yamaguchi,” he lowered his voice. He closed his eyes and started leaning in when the latter, once again, pushed him away, getting out of his hold.

“Tsukki, stop. You’re just going to lead me on.” Shit, he realized he had indirectly confessed. Fuck, why’d I had to say it aloud? Tears started to stream down his face because he could no longer hold them in.

It pained the tall blonde to see Yamaguchi crying and so vulnerable. He had to do something, but he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. He opted for pulling Yamaguchi in for a hug: one hand holding his head and the other rubbing small circles on his back.

“Tsu-”

“Please, just let me hold you.” Yamaguchi gave in to his words and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the latter. Tsukishima held him a little tighter with the fear of the other running away if he were to loosen his hold; he was already prepared for the other to run away. But to his surprise, Yamaguchi snuggled his face into the crook of his neck, causing Tsukishuma to stiffen a bit.

“Please,” Yamaguchi croaked out, “please don’t leave me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m… because I’m gay, and,” he paused, tears once again spilling from his eyes.

Tsukishima felt the warmth of his tears on his neck, then reassured him by softly saying, “I’ll stay no matter what you say.”

“And because,” he took a deep breath. “I like you,” he mumbled into his shoulder.

Tsukishima pulled away just enough to see Yamaguchi’s face, holding it with his hands and wiping the few tears on his cheeks. Yamaguchi leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. Was he always this pretty? Gosh, I’m definitely in love with him. Tsukishima took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. “Yamaguchi,” the boy looked into his eyes, “I’ve always had this weird feeling when I’m around you.” Yamaguchi tried to turn his face away. He’s just trying to make me feel better. He doesn’t mean it.

Tsukishima held his face in place, “and now I think I understand the feeling. I love you, Tadashi.” And that was it, he said them. But did he mean it? He must have meant it if he used Yamaguchi’s given name, right? He just has to say back, even if Tsukki is lying.

“I love you too, Kei.”

“I promise I won’t leave you.” He planted a kiss on Yamaguchi’s forehead. The two boys stood there- foreheads now pressed together.

What does this mean? What will happen to their friendship? Those are questions to be answered another time. Right now, all they’re thinking about is savoring this moment.

© putmeinyourdeathnote

Can I ask for a counselor!Sevika and reader with social anxiety? And Sevika has to attend those fancy "parties" of the Council, and there are so many people there, the reader feels uncomfortable (she doesn't cry, but almost), and Sevika notices and takes her out of there and comforts her? Sorry if this is confusing, I'm writing this in the middle of the night and a little sleepy!! Thanks (And forgive me if I wrote something wrong, English isn't really my first language...)

-🦇

i love me some sappy sevika. here u go!!! hope its okay! <3 (also don’t sue me i couldnt find a good maroon button up pic. i’m sorry. luv u.)

never really alone

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ sevika x reader fluff

It was nighttime, the moon gleamed down on you as you looked perfect. Your hair was styled, had on the most beautiful gown that Sevika picked out just for you, and your makeup was flawless. Everything about you was perfect. Except, you didn’t feel perfect. You felt the dress synching your waist in, making it hard to breathe. Your hair and face felt heavy, and the unnecessarily tall heels pinched your feet. But alas, you were doing this for your wife, so none of that mattered to you. You’d be able to suck it up just this one night for her, just for this one party.

The two of you walked in through the large doors, hand in hand. The immediate buzzing sound of people chattering, drinks pouring, and fancy music hit you like a truck. You gulped, squeezing Sevika’s hand, looking over at her. She looked straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed (per usual; she has a resting bitch face), maroon button up blouse semi tucked into her black slacks, belt buckle shining in the light. You could feel your cheeks flush underneath all the foundation as you stared, admiring but also trying to find comfort in her face. She looked over at you, eyebrows immediately relaxing, giving you a small smile.

“You ready, princess?” She asked, squeezing your hand back. A little sign to show that she had you, no matter what. You felt your tense body loosen up a bit, breathing out deeply, and nodding.

“Yes,” You started, smiling back. “I-I’m ready.” You pushed those words out of your mouth the best you could. Of course you weren’t ready. If it were up to you, the two of you would be at home, snuggled up watching a movie. Before you could even second guess your answer, she began to walk forward, leading you into the drowning sound. You followed behind her, of course. Those stupid heels were already hurting, so it definitely took you a second to catch up.

You knew Sevika didn’t necessarily enjoy these parties, but she had to show up and put on a face as best she could (which… was never really her best, you could tell she hated it). So you knew you probably wouldn’t be there long. All you had to do was suck it up and push the anxiety down as best you could for an hour or two.

Right?

As you were caught up in your own thoughts, you felt Sevika’s grip loosen and let go from your hand, making you snap back to reality. Your head snapped up, eyes darting towards her.

“Sevika! Glad you could make it,” Someone (of importance, you assumed) said, leading her away. You didn’t care much about seeing their face, your eyes stayed glued on Sevika. “There’s some people here who want to meet you. Follow me?”

She looked back at you, almost like she was asking for permission without actually asking. You couldn’t possibly hold her back from this, doing her job. So you forced the best smile you could, nodding. “Go ahead, darling. I’ll be here.”

She sighed annoyingly at the request, but smiled back at you. “Thank you. I’ll keep my eye on you, don’t stray too far. Okay?” She said before turning around and walking away. You watched her until she got lost in the crowds, leaving you by yourself. Your breath hitched once you lost sight of her, fingers twiddling as the panic began to settle in. You shook your head around, trying your best to push the feeling down.

I’m a grown being, I can do this. I can totally do this. You thought to yourself, trying to fake it till you make it. With the bit of courage you had, you made your way to the bar area, grabbing one of the drinks that were being given out. You sipped on it, face immediately twisting up. The alcohol tasted bitter, the cranberry juice doing absolutely nothing to mask the flavor, making it hard to swallow. You gulped it down as best you could anyway. You figured maybe getting a little buzz might cool the anxiety down, I mean, it didn’t hurt to try.

…So you picked up another drink after forcing down the first. You walked around, exploring the place, which was huge. I mean, truly, there was no ending to it. Halls after halls, multiple doors, stairs that led to Gods knows where. It seemed like you were doing fine. You were almost confident in yourself, dress shimmering, hair shiny, lashes batting.

Until… a group of women began to walk towards you. You stood there at first, trying to look nonchalant. I mean, no way they were coming to you. Right? Wrong.

“Hey! You’re Sevika’s wife, aren’t you?” One of them questioned, eyes gleaming as she stared. “Wow, what a beauty. She’s certainly lucky, isn’t she?” All of them giggled, touching your hair and dress. You felt it creeping up again, that same feeling that was always lingering in the pit of your stomach.

You cracked a smile anyway, hesitating before responding. “Y-Yeah, I’m her wife. Thank you. I should go find her, actually.” Was the best you could do. You figured you were coming off as rude, but these ladies did not catch the hint.

“What? Going so soon! Tell us more about her, she’s such a drag to work with usually. How could her cranky self wife up someone like you?” Another of them commented, their giggles turning into loud laughter. You could tell this was drunken banter, but that didn’t seem to help you at all. The feeling began to grow bigger, heavier, pushing down on your chest. It slowly became hard to breathe as their words overlapped, molding into something you couldn’t understand. Your chest was rising and falling too fast, so fast you couldn’t keep up. Your hands gripped on the cup, squeezing hard, shaking as they continued. How could they possibly not catch the hint? You regretted telling Sevika yes. Yes to joining her, yes to walking in, yes to letting her go join the others. You felt your eyes begin to water, hot tears beginning to build up, begging for their release. It was pathetic, you were pathetic, totally fucking path-

“Ladies,” Sevika’s husky voice broke your internal battle. The women immediately peaked over your head, looking at her as she stood behind you. She grabbed onto your waist, pulling you in. “Looks like you’ve bothered my wife enough. It’s about time you get going.” She said, voice stern and low. They smiled awkwardly, nodding and agreeing as they walked away, mumbling not so nice things under their breaths.

You felt Sevika grip onto your hand, leading you outside to the balcony, closing the doors behind you. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, making you spill your drink along the tile floor as you held onto her, face nuzzling in her neck. Although she was squeezing a little, you felt like you could finally breathe. Her hand ran down your back, then up again, rubbing it slowly.

“I’m sorry I left you alone, princess. Are you okay?” She said as she pulled away, cupping your face in her hands, her grey eyes full of worry. You held onto her hands as did so, resting your head against them. The anxiety began to melt away as you stared into her eyes, felt her skin against yours, her scent wrapping around you. This was your safe place.

“I’m okay,” You said, eyes closing, taking it all in. “I’m sorry I freaked out. Did I ruin it for you?”

“Of course not, I get whatever I want around here. So, my work for tonight is done.” She said, scoffing a bit.

Your eyes opened, immediately raising an eyebrow at her, giggling at her sassy remark. “Is that so?”

“It is so, and you know what it is I want now?” She asked, leaning closer into your face.

You giggled. “What does her highness want now, hm?”

She suddenly grabbed your waist, pulled you in, then kissed you. It was a soft and slow kiss, taking the time to feel her lips melting into yours. This was heaven, you were sure of it. Her soft and salty lips, gentle yet secure hands holding you, her care for you. She was your heaven. She pulled away, smiling softly, staring into your eyes. “I want us to go home and have the night to ourselves.” The moonlight hit her face just right. Her eyes glistened as she looked at you, skin glowing, and muscles showed through her shirt.

Your heart fluttered, ears reddening up a bit. Gods, you were so in love with her. The corners of your mouth lifted up into a toothy smile, one that Sevika absolutely adored. “I’d love that, Vika.” You said, pushing her hair back to get a better look of her face in that moment. You wanted to remember this, have this memory of her forever.

She grabbed onto your hand, kissing it softly, then looked back down to you. “By the way, alcohol is horrible for anxiety.”

Your eyes widened at the sudden comment. “How… did you know?” You questioned, blinking quickly.

“I tasted it all in your mouth, babe.” She started as she began to lead you back inside. “Plus, I had my eye on you the entire time, you were never really alone. I’d never do that to you.”

You blushed, smiling at her comment as the two of you walked back inside. She wasn’t usually this sappy, but when she was, you ate it up. You’d definitely bring up how hot her need to always protect you was later. She quickly said her goodbyes, brushing off the small talks, then led you outside the giant doors you had came in from. You couldn’t help but stare at her lovingly the entire time, wanting nothing more than to kiss her over and over. Maybe do even a little more than that, but you’d save that for the bedroom.

Fuck it

what are some of YOUR favorite HCs for our ladies? Any subjects, just things you haven't been able to bring up or talk about through requests

I wanna hear your thoughts :3c

~💜

Oh my gosh, finally someone wants to hear me outttt, you're the sweetest, anon 💜, thank youuu

Headcanons (Ft. Sevika, Ambessa Medarda, Violet, Jinx)

Author's Choice

Sevika

Multilingual through and through but sometimes a little bit of this language slips in through a little bit of that language because there's just so much in her vocabulary that she can't get across by using one singular language (Am I projecting? Yes.)

Sensitive to South Asian stereotypes and butch lesbian stereotypes

Likely to beat someone up over it

Grew up in a mysoginistic society which made her feel that she was somehow below men in the past but she doesn't let that affect her now

Considers dyeing her hair because she's insecure of the gray

In her past relationships, her ex girlfriends always made her feel like she needed to wear the pants in the relationship, so she never really was the one being spoiled, spooned or even simply headpatted

Loves being able to show even the slightest bit of feminity when she can with you, but it's rare because she's so insecure of it

If you bring it up, she'll say "Ridiculous," with a scoff and a head shake

Immensely insecure ever since she lost her arm and struggles with body image issues. Please reassure her

Has anger issues and breaks things when she's angry

She's just a kitten when she's angry so hold her close and hug her. Tell her it's okay and coo praises to her

No matter what I've seen other authors say, I think Sevika does get sort of abusive when she's angry, but she doesn't hit you of course. Instead, she slams and breaks things in the house

Ambessa Medarda

Brings you expensive gifts just because she can

When you sleep next to her, Ambessa hums a song and you can't help wonder of her melodious voice, and that she should sing more

Makes honey tea for you with her own hands and goodness does it taste like heaven, she tastes better though

Kneels down and does your straps for you even if her ego is so high, she loves kneeling before you in front of people to flash the dynamic of your relationship with her

Likely to propose only if you share the same loyalty for family as her

Eye contact means everything to this woman whether it's a normal setting, intimate setting or simply sex— look into her golden eyes and whisper "I love you"s

Would figuratively die out of concern if you ever got hurt in any way possible, wouldn't let you out of the Medarda Estate in fear you'll get hurt again. It may take a while for her trust in the world to build again, but she's not all that controlling

Shockingly lets you wear whatever you want to wear when outside but don't expect her to coddle you and take her time stripping you form those clothes. She is feral, she'll tear them off

Her love language is providing all sorts of protection that you need from whoever even if it may be the most dangerous person on the planet, you're safe with Ambessa

Vows to keep you safe whenever you fall asleep, mumbling them to herself as a constant reminder that whatever happens, her loyalty was to you and her family

Her kisses are surprisingly warm, gentle and calculated. She doesn't want to rush, and takes her sweet time. Sometimes it's barely tongue, and she just enjoys the feeling of your sweet lips against hers

Violet

Although she claims she doesn't care for your commands, if you told her to sit she'll sit

Favorite part of your body is your boobs no matter if they're big/small. She'll bury her face in them and even use them as stress balls. Nothing lewd really, she just likes sniffing them. What a pervert but come on, it's Vi

Loves interlacing her fingers with yours, rubbing the top of your hand with the pad of her thumb

Always carries sanitary pads/tampons for you to be your saviour at times of crisis

Can't stand your pout or your tears. Crocodile tears or not, Vi is buying you whatever you want or beating someone up over something that you want. She can't stand seeing her princess all pouty

"You're not scared of me, are you?" Vi's sometimes afraid what impression she gives off to you

Worried because you may be exposed to Shimmer. She doesn't care what the living conditions are, but she doesn't want you to get addicted to any sort of substance that can cause your life to go downhill

Stares at you so much you're sometimes worried whether she's even listening to what you have to say, or when you're just casually conversing she's staring at you as if you've grown two heads.

In reality, Vi takes one long look at you, one that could battle a stare contest, and decides you're too good for her. But she'll never say that out loud in fear you're gonna leave her

Scared she's gonna lose her shit and hit you when she's angry because poor baby has anger issues

Very much capable of confidently arguing with a child and losing

Jinx

Has anxious attachment issues with you, she knows it and you know it. But you both silently acknowledge that

Perfect dates mean bombing and terrorising Pilties with her... Or, you both could decide on a sugar marathon. Whichever you prefer

Her love language is putting effort into remembering the things that you like, often stealing the best of it from Piltover. Jinx makes you your favourite weapons in your favourite colour, with little scribbles that say you belong to her

Blushes when you hug her and she awkwardly returns it back but when she gets comfortable she can't stop hugging you

If you ever left her, she'd actually lose her shit, she's way too attached with you

Overthinks the whole love confession thing before you both dated and she lit your yard on fire with the words "I LOVE YOU"

Cried in your arms after Caitlyn shot her middle finger off. She was so upset, you almost gutted the woman for doing that to your baby

Sometimes she loses her shit, hallucinates and you wake up tied to her chair, her knife poking at your heart. "Love me. Love me. Love me." She repeats, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Jinx calms down eventually, unties you and asks you if she scared you. You always tell her no and give her headpats

Jinx is way too scared of relying on anyone emotionally and you can tell. You don't force her to trust you immediately but it is a slow process, she slowly starts to open up more

Swings her legs back and forth from the edge of the bed while you do her hair. Your arm workout is doing her hair

You motivate her to actually take care of herself, eat properly and shower. But you have to do it all with her

Surprisingly can pick you up

"If I cannot be wanted, I will be needed and if I cannot be needed let me be used until there's nothing left of me."

I swear I heard this quote and their faces just popped up in my head both Sevika and Vi even though hold polar opposite views and stand on opposite sides still manage to be unbelievably similar to eachother how they both at the end of the day are big emotionally messed up kind hearted women whose situations just made it impossible for them to love freely and of course live without opression god I am so down bad...

Hi!!!! I was wondering if we can have some dark BG3 but with Karlach.. if you can because ohhhhh I love your stuff for her literally every time I read it I fall in love THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING BTW

Ah thank you so much !

oooo okay y'all I'm writing this as a one shot, she's not being added to the list (for now), I will most likely add her when I'm adding the cambions which will be when requests are finished. This is gonna be set when she takes control of the nether brain.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dark!Karlach x reader | Blood-drenched Sunset

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The infernal glow of Avernus spread before you like a sick parody of a sunset, blood-red skies choked with smoke and ash. The smell of brimstone clung to everything, a constant reminder of where you were and what you had become a part of. Karlach stood at the edge of a jagged cliff overlooking the battlefield below, her fiery mane whipping in the hot wind. Imps and cambions swarmed around her like moths drawn to a flame, eager to do her bidding.

You watched her, your heart aching. This wasn’t the Karlach you had fallen in love with—the one who had fought so fiercely for others, who had carried a blazing heart of courage and compassion. But you understood how she had come to this. Her pain, her rage, her betrayal by the people of Baldur’s Gate—it all made sense. And that was what hurt the most. You understood her too well.

When she turned to you, her eyes were wild with fury and determination, but there was something else buried deep within them. Something you could barely see but refused to give up on.

“They’ll all pay,” she growled, her voice like a low rumble of thunder. “Every last one of Zariel’s lapdogs. Just like those cowards in Baldur’s Gate who let Gortash rise to power. They’ll all burn.”

You stepped forward, hands trembling but held open in a gesture of peace. You were covered in ash, grime and splatters of blood that belonged to those you called friend.

“Karlach,” you began softly, but your voice broke under the weight of what you were about to say. “You were one of Zariel’s servants once. Remember? There are people down there—innocents, just like you were.”

Her expression twisted, her lips curling into a bitter smile.

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut as she pointed her index finger at you. “Don’t you dare compare me to them. I escaped. I broke free. They don’t deserve your pity, and they sure as hell don’t deserve mine.”

You reached out a trembling hand toward her, desperation thick in your voice. “Please, Karlach. This isn’t who you are. You’re better than this—better than all of this. Be fair, give them a chance. Don’t let this place consume what’s left of your humanity.”

For a moment, you thought you saw her flinch, the barest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. But then her expression hardened, and she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” she said, stepping closer to you, her towering form casting a shadow over your trembling figure. “You’re trying to control me. Hold me back. You’re lucky I love you, babe! So damn lucky!”

She snapped her fingers, and before you could react, two cambions stepped out of the shadows, their claws digging into your arms as they grabbed hold of you. You struggled and cried out, but their grip was ironclad.

Karlach grinned, the flames dancing around her face making her look almost demonic. She sauntered up to you, cupping your cheek with a hand that burned hot against your skin.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, her voice dripping with mock affection. “I want you to see everything. Front row seat, just for you.” She turned to the cambions, giving them a wink. “Make sure they don’t miss a thing.”

The cambions dragged you toward the edge of the cliff, forcing you to kneel as Karlach strode back toward the battlefield below. Her war cry echoed across the hellish plains, and her army of imps and demons surged forward with savage glee.

Tears streamed down your face as you watched the carnage unfold, helpless to do anything but plead silently with the woman you loved—the woman you knew was still in there somewhere. You whispered her name, over and over again, a prayer against the storm.

Somewhere in the chaos, you thought you saw her pause. Just for a moment. A flicker of something human—a memory, perhaps, or a feeling she couldn’t quite extinguish. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep your hope alive.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

y'all how dare you force me to do that to my baby girl.. jk jk i can't lie making her evil was very fun. I hope you guys enjoyed these dark karlach scraps, i think there is another dark karlach request in the queue so y'all will be fed again at some point - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

⋆·˚ ༘ *Horror story's comfort⋆·˚ ༘ *

You need to learn to rely on them... they have a solution for that OR arcane women scaring you with horror stories so they could see you clinging to them [absolutely fluff].

Ambessa

It's late. A storm rages outside the heavily fortified windows of medarda's estate, rattling the thick glass.You're laying beside her on a chaise lounge, your body stiff, pressing yourself not to her body but to the backrest, watching her twirling the wine in her glass. The relationship is still new enough that seeking comfort feels... abnormal, But ambessa, senses your slight unease with the storm, decides this is an opportunity. for comfort, and perhaps, for… demonstration.

"Storms like this," she begins, her voice calm, "remind me of the siege of Fae'lor. The sky wept for three days, and the wind carried the screams of dying right through the stone walls." She pauses, gauging your reaction. You edge slightly closer to her warmth. Good.

"The defenders," she continues, her voice dropping slightly, becoming more intense, "believed they were protected by ancient forest spirits. Superstitious fools." She takes a sip of her wine. "They performed nightly rituals, leaving offerings of blood and bone." Her eyes flick towards the shadows in the corner of the room. "Some say the spirits did answer. Not with protection, but with hunger."

You swallow hard, trying to appear unaffected, but the combination of the storm, the flickering firelight, and her chillingly matter-of-fact tone is getting to you. You subtly shift closer, your arm now brushing against hers.

"On the third night," Ambessa goes on,putting down her glass on the low table beside the lounge, her voice barely above a whisper now, compelling your attention, "our scouts reported… movement within the trees. Shapes that were not quite animal, not quite man, drawn by the scent of fear and desperation. They say those unlucky enough to be caught outside the inner walls..." She lets the sentence hang.

A particularly loud clap of thunder makes you jump, letting out a small gasp. You instinctively press close against her side,hiding your face in her chest, seeking solace from the storm outside and the one she’s conjuring inside. Success. Ambessa's arm comes around you immediately, pulling you firmly against her solid frame. Her earlier narrative coolness vanishes, replaced by warmth.

"Easy now," she murmurs, her tone shifting. "Just ancient history. Long dead ghosts." Her hand strokes your back reassuringly, though there’s a faint smile playing on her lips, hidden from your view. "And even if they weren't," she adds, her voice regaining its confident edge, "they wouldn't dare trespass on Medarda soil. Not with me here." She holds you tightly, enjoying the feel of you clinging to her, seeking her strength.

Sevika

You're huddled together in your small living space, than... power flickered out momentarily, plunging you into near darkness, the only light now coming from the burning tip of her cigarette. The relationship is still finding its footing, so even though you're scared, you can't exactly voice it. Sevika, sensing your nervousness in the dark, sees an opening.

"Dark like this," she begins, her voice low and gravelly, cutting through the silence, "reminds me of the stories they tell about the sump." You instinctively shift closer to her on the worn sofa. "Said sometimes... they'd pull things up from it that weren't fish, weren't junk." She takes a slow drag from her cigarette, the tip glowing brightly before fading. "Things that had too many limbs, or eyes that glowed green in the dark, hungry."

Her voice is flat, matter-of-fact, which somehow makes the story more chilling.she puts her cigarette out, in the ashtray on the table beside the couch, before continuing "One crew vanished entirely. Found their dredger adrift weeks later, empty. Just... slime trails on the deck and this godawful clicking sound echoing from the empty cabins." She deliberately makes a soft clicking sound with her tongue.

You jump, letting out a small squeak, and grab onto her arm, hiding your face in her neck. Bingo. A faint smirk ghosts across Sevika’s lips in the darkness.

"Just stories," she says dismissively, like she didn't just try to scare you. her arm, the flesh-and-blood one, comes around your shoulders, pulling you firmly against her side.like she’s securing you. "Probably just chem-mutated eels or sump-crocs." Her hand gently caressing your skin, gentel and kind despite her nonchalant tune. "Still," she adds, her voice dropping again, "wouldn't want to meet one alone in the dark." She tease further but quickly comfort you with the next sentence, "Good thing you ain't alone, huh?" She enjoys the feeling of you pressed against her, seeking refuge, confirming her strength and your reliance on it. The scary story was just the bait; the real prize was feeling you instinctively turn to her for protection.

Grayson

It’s a dark, stormy night, perfect for staying in. You’re sitting together on Grayson’s comfortable sofa. Seeing you jump slightly at a loud clap of thunder, a playful, slightly mischievous glint appears in her eyes.

"You know," she begin casually, "this weather reminds me of an old case file I found in the cold archives. Never officially solved. They called it 'The Watcher on Widow's Walk'." She lowers her voice slightly, adopting a conspiratorial tone. "Supposedly, on stormy nights like this, people reported seeing a figure standing in the dark, watching the houses near the sump."

You try to look nonchalant, but you lean a little closer. Grayson notices, hiding a small smile. "The reports were always vague," she continues, "Shadowy figure, glowing eyes according to one witness... probably just reflections, of course. But then things started happening. Objects moved in locked rooms of the same houses that reported the figure. Whispers heard when no one was there." She pauses dramatically. "One family fled their house overnight, claimed the watcher had started appearing inside, tapping on their bedroom window..."

Another crash of thunder punctuates her story, and you can't help it ...you flinch hard, pressing close against her side, grabbing her arm. Mission complete. Grayson's arm immediately wraps securely around you, pulling you into a protective hug. "Hey, hey," she murmurs soothingly, her playful tone gone, replaced by warmth. "Just an old ghost story, sweetheart. Probably kids playing pranks, or subsidence causing strange noises." She holds you tightly, rubbing your back. "Besides," she adds, her voice dropping to a low, reassuring whisper near your ear, "even if there was a watcher, he wouldn't get near you. Not while I'm here." She enjoys the feeling of you clinging to her, finding comfort in her.

‘cause i hate to wait so long

★vi x f!reader

part one

wc: 4.9k

cw: hurt/comfort

notes: tried my best to make the transition to the end smooth, and i liked how it turned out, kinda get vi on an astronomical level on this fic lol 🫢

It had been a great weekend. The two of you traveled to see your parents, and as always, your mom loved Vi. Sometimes, you swore she liked Vi even more than she liked you. Every time you called to say you were visiting, she asked what dessert Vi wanted and happily made it just for her.

Being back in your hometown meant running into old friends—and with old friends came old flings.

But even though you and Vi had to stand through a thirty-minute conversation with your high school ex in the middle of a bakery, you thought everything was fine. Vi hadn’t seemed particularly bothered at the time, so when you got back home and she started acting off, you assumed it was something else. Probably work.

She had been sharing a studio with some new guy who got on her nerves, and you had heard her complain about indecisive clients more times than you could count.

You weren’t worried.

Not at first.

But then, the little things started piling up.

She left your messages on read for days. She made excuses to avoid staying the night. She canceled plans at the last minute.

And now, standing in her studio, watching her avoid your gaze, you knew.

“Vi,” you started carefully, hands shoved into your pockets, “is there something you want to talk about?”

She shrugged, still not looking at you. “I don’t know. You’re the one who came over unannounced.”

Her tone was flat, detached, and it sent an uneasy feeling crawling up your spine.

“I came over because you’ve been acting weird,” you said, voice steady, but your heart was anything but. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I want to know why.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair, but still wouldn’t meet your eyes. “It’s nothing. Just work stuff.”

But you knew her. And this wasn’t just work stuff.

So you took a step closer, crossing your arms. “Vi.”

Vi finally looked at you then, and something flickered in her expression—something tired, something unsure.

“What?” she asked, her tone sharp, irritated.

You ignored it. You weren’t sure what was happening, and the last thing you wanted was for this to turn into a fight if it didn’t have to.

“Just tell me the truth,” you said, voice careful but firm. “Please.”

She exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening, fingers curling into fists at her sides.

“I…” She looked away, shaking her head. Then, quieter, “Do you miss her?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your ex,” she said, voice clipped. “You know, the one we ran into last weekend.”

You frowned, utterly confused. “Miss her? Vi, what the hell are you talking about?”

Vi let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair. “She just seemed so... put together,” she muttered. “Talking about her medical degree, how she wanted to travel the world. And I don’t know, I just thought—” She cut herself off, shoulders tensing. “I just thought maybe you should be with someone like her.”

Your head jerked back like she had slapped you.

“Are you serious right now?” You scoffed, a disbelieving laugh escaping before you could stop it. “Vi, you hate when people put words in your mouth, and now you’re doing the same damn thing to me?”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m just saying it makes sense! She has her shit together, she knows exactly what she wants in life, she doesn’t—” She stopped, jaw clenching so tight you could see the muscles twitch.

“She doesn’t what?” you pressed, stepping closer. “Say it.”

Vi hesitated, then finally snapped, “She doesn’t come with all the baggage I do, okay?”

You stared at her, stunned.

“This again?” Your voice was rising now, frustration boiling over. “Vi, do you ever get tired of pushing me away before I can even think about leaving?”

“I’m not pushing you away!”

“The hell you aren’t!” You threw your hands in the air. “Every single time we get close, really close, you find some reason to run. And now? Now you’re making up some bullshit excuse about my ex to convince yourself that I’d be better off without you?”

Vi’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t deny it.

You let out a humorless laugh. “Unbelievable. You know what, fine. If that’s what you really want, if you actually think I’d be happier with someone else, just say it. Say you don’t want me.”

Silence.

You crossed your arms, your jaw tight with frustration. “Go on. Say it, Vi.”

Her eyes burned as she snapped back, her voice rising. “You know you would!” She let out a harsh breath. “It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact! I’m not good for you! You just said it yourself—I keep finding reasons to push you away. Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t hear the shit my own mind tells me every single day?” She let out a bitter laugh. “Maybe we should just end this now. Before either of us gets hurt.”

That did it.

Your anger flared, white-hot, because how dare she?

Like you weren’t already hurting.

Like you weren’t already attached.

Like your mom didn’t greet her with a smile and a homemade chocolate cake every time you visited.

“You always say that,” you spat, voice shaking. “Like it’s some kind of mercy. Like you’re doing me a favor. Before we get hurt? Vi, I’m already hurt!”

She flinched, but you didn’t stop.

“I have never once doubted my feelings for you. Not for a second. But you? You doubt everything. You push me away and then act like it’s inevitable. Like you’re just sparing me from some big, tragic heartbreak when the only person breaking my heart right now is you.”

Her breathing was ragged, hands clenched into fists at her sides, but she didn’t interrupt.

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, blinking against the sting in your eyes. “You know what? Fine. If you think this is the right thing to do, if you really believe I’d be better off without you, then I won’t fight you on it anymore.”

You turned, yanking open the studio door. But before you stepped out, you hesitated—just long enough to deliver one last blow.

“Hope you’re finally free from me.”

And then you walked out, slamming the door behind you.

There were a lot of things in life you weren’t sure about.

Like whether the degree you earned was what you actually wanted to do for the rest of your life. Or what you were going to have for dinner. Or if you’d ever figure out how to fold a fitted sheet properly.

But you were sure about Violet.

You were sure she was the love of your life.

You were sure that one day, you would marry her. That you’d grow old together. That maybe—maybe—you’d even have kids, even though that was one of the things you weren’t sure about.

Even with everything life threw your way, you were sure about her.

But sometimes, love isn’t enough.

No matter how much you give, no matter how patient you are, no matter how many times you try to show them—I’m here. I’m not leaving. Please, just let me love you!—it doesn’t always work.

Because love is a two-way street, and if one person keeps building walls instead of bridges, eventually, you run out of ways to reach them.

You had tried. God, had you tried.

You stayed through every storm, through every fight, through every moment she tried to push you away. You picked up the pieces when she shattered, even when it meant cutting yourself on the shards.

But there’s only so much a person can take.

There are only so many times you can be pushed away before you finally stay away.

And as much as you hated proving her right, after the hundredth time she told you to leave—you did.

And it was the worst pain of your life. Worse than that time you tried to ride your pink bicycle down a hill and broke both of your arms. Worse than any heartbreak you’d ever imagined.

Because she was supposed to be your forever.

──────────────────────

Vi would be lying if she said that after your awful encounter at the coffee shop, she didn’t wait for you to call her—maybe to yell at her some more, to say all the things she knew she deserved to hear.

Because even if that was the only thing she could get from you, she would take it.

Anything was better than the silence.

But you didn’t call. You didn’t text.

And she understood why. She wasn’t stupid. If she didn’t try, you couldn’t keep trying for her.

She just didn’t know how.

Vi had spent her whole life in survival mode—fighting, running, enduring. She knew how to throw a punch, how to take a hit, how to push people away before they could hurt her first.

But feelings? Talking? Healing?

She didn’t know what any of that looked like.

So she did the only thing she knew how to do.

She screwed things up a little bit more.

Yes, resorting to drinking wasn’t healthy. No, it wouldn’t solve her problems. But it would make them go away for a while, and right now, that was all she needed.

That’s how she found herself in the nearest nightclub she could find, a whiskey glass in her hand, watching as colorful lights flashed around her. The bass pounded through her chest, drowning out the thoughts she didn’t want to deal with.

“Rough night?”

Vi barely turned her head as some random red head slid into the seat next to her at the bar. She was pretty, in that effortless kind of way, with a confident smirk that told Vi exactly what she was after.

“You could say that” Vi muttered before downing the rest of her drink.

The girl leaned in, her fingers ghosting over Vi’s bicep. “Well… maybe I can make it better.”

Once upon a time, Vi might have taken her up on that offer. A distraction, a warm body, something to make her forget for just a little while.

But the only touch she craved—the only lips she wanted—weren’t here.

Vi sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Not tonight.”

The girl pouted, but she didn’t push. “Suit yourself.”

As she walked away, Vi signaled the bartender for another drink. Because if she couldn’t have you, she could at least have the illusion of feeling something.

──────────────────────

You were woken up by the sound of your phone buzzing on your nightstand. Groaning, you reached for it without much thought, still half-asleep.

“Hello?”

At first, all you could hear on the other end was breathing—slow, uneven.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

A beat of silence. Then, a voice you hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Can you open your door, please?”

Vi.

You sat up instantly, now fully awake. “Vi? What are you talking about? It’s three in the morning.”

“I just—” A loud thud echoed through the phone, followed by a muffled, “Fuck.”

Your brows furrowed. “Vi, what the hell was that? Where are you?”

“I just need to talk to you” she mumbled, her words slightly slurred. “Please. You can yell at me all you want, I just… I just want to hear your voice.”

You ran a hand down your face, exhaling sharply. “Are you drunk right now? Seriously?”

Silence. Then, barely above a whisper—

“Yeah.”

You closed your eyes, gripping the bridge of your nose. The last thing you wanted was to let her back in after everything, after the pushing and pulling, after the damage she’d done. But a bigger part of you—the part that still ached for her, that never stopped worrying—was already swinging its legs out of bed and heading for the door.

You cracked it open, and there she was.

Vi stood in your doorway, hood up, hands shoved into the pockets of her jacket like she was trying to make herself smaller. Even in the dim glow of the hallway light, you could see the exhaustion in her face—red-rimmed eyes, the way her shoulders sagged like she was holding the weight of the world.

“You look like shit” you muttered.

She let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah. Feels like it too.”

You should’ve slammed the door in her face. You should’ve told her to go home, sleep it off, leave you alone.

Instead, you stepped aside.

“Come in.”

And she did, wobbling slightly as she walked in.

She looked so out of place in your living room. The red jacket she always wore stood out against the neutral tones of your space—like a warning sign, like a memory that never quite faded.

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to ignore the way your heart clenched at the sight of her. “What do you want, Vi?” You didn’t even try to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “Why are you here?”

She exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face before finally meeting your eyes for the first time since she arrived.

“I don’t know” she admitted, voice rough, unsteady. “I was supposed to go home. I was going home, and then I just… got here.”

You let out a sigh. “That’s not an answer.”

Vi winced, shifting on her feet like she was struggling to find the right words. But words were never her strong suit, were they? She had always been better with actions—though most of them were reckless and self-destructive.

She ran a hand through her hair, sighing. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. That wasn’t fair. That wasn’t fair.

After everything she’d said, after everything she’d done—after making you leave—she still expected you to be here, to pick up the pieces when she was falling apart.

"You don't get to do this, Vi” you whispered, barely trusting your voice. "You don’t get to throw me away and then show up at my door like I’m supposed to fix you."

Her breath hitched. "I know. I know, and I’m—" She hesitated, the words getting stuck in her throat. "I fucked up, okay? I fucked up so bad, and I don’t know how to fix it."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking away the sting behind your eyes.

"But I want to…"

You could count on one hand how many times you'd seen Vi cry. And most of those times had been involuntary—after waking up from a nightmare, lost in the haze of half-conscious panic, when her body betrayed her before her mind could shut it down.

But now, she was standing in your living room, crying. Her shoulders shook, and she wiped furiously at her eyes, like she was trying to erase the evidence of her own weakness.

"I've said it before, but it's true this time. I promise." Her voice cracked—raw, desperate. "And you can yell at me all you want. You can throw every awful thing I said back in my face, because I would rather have you angry at me than this." She sucked in a shaky breath. "Being apart hurts. The silence is killing me.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to steady yourself. This isn’t fair.

"You think I wanted to leave?" you asked, voice quiet but firm. "You think I wanted to spend nights wondering if you were okay, if you were sleeping, if you were eating? Do you know how many times I almost called you?"

Vi's lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

"I loved you, Vi. And I spent so much time trying to prove to you that I wasn't going anywhere. But no matter how much I tried, you never let me in."

"I was scared" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I know" you said. "I know. And I still tried. But you made me believe that I was never going to be enough for you."

Vi took a step closer. "That's not true."

"Isn't it?" you asked, shaking your head. "You were scared I would leave, but you were the one who kept pushing me away. Over and over again."

Vi exhaled shakily, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

"I want to be better," she said, her voice raw with emotion. "I don’t want to keep running. I don’t want to keep ruining things." She looked at you, her expression open—vulnerable in a way you weren’t sure you'd ever seen before. "And I don’t know if I deserve another chance, but if there’s even the smallest part of you that thinks I do…"

She hesitated.

"Then I’ll spend every day proving to you that I can be better."

Your heart felt like it was being crushed. You loved—love—Vi. You always have, and you probably always will. But feeling so insecure, so scared all the time that you would wake up one day and she would just decide this was over, made you think twice.

"I… I love you. I really do." Your voice wavered as you let out a humorless laugh. "You were the only thing I was ever certain about in my life. You were my forever."

Vi took a step closer, her breath hitching. "I still am…"

"How can I be sure?" Your voice cracked, anger and exhaustion mixing into one. "How can I know that you won’t wake up one day and decide that I’m too good for you? That you don’t deserve me? Or some other crazy shit your brain makes you believe—and just leave? Do you have any idea what that would do to me?"

Vi flinched, guilt flashing across her face.

As much as you tried not to be angry—because she was drunk, because she was vulnerable—you were only human.

"I know you're scared" you said, your voice tight. "I know you think you aren’t worthy of my love. But have you ever stopped to think about how I feel?"

She stayed silent.

"When you look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m just like everyone else? That I’ll leave? That I’ll hurt you?" You shook your head, your nails digging into your palms. "Do you think so little of me?"

Vi's lips parted, but no words came out. All she could do was stare at you, her blue eyes filled with regret, sorrow, and something deeper—something she wasn’t sure how to voice.

And for the first time, maybe ever, you saw it hit her. The weight of what she had done. The hurt she had caused. The damage she had left in her wake.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of her own emotions. Quiet tears still flowed down her face, unchecked. “I’m sorry I hurt you so bad, but I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll do anything and everything in my power to never make you feel like that again.”

You let out a deep breath, the anger you felt still simmering in your gut.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Your voice was tired, drained. “When you’re sober and I’m not angry anymore?”

Vi nodded, quickly, almost desperately. And the look in her eyes made you doubt everything all over again. It was like she had this power over you—one puppy dog-eyed look and you were gone.

But you couldn’t let that sway you. Not again.

“You can sleep on the couch” you said, turning away before she could break you down any further. “I’ll get you some blankets.”

Vi stood there for a moment, watching you disappear down the hall. She wanted to convince you that she meant it this time. That she wasn’t going to run, wasn’t going to push you away again.

But after everything she had done, after all the times she had broken your heart—what right did she have to ask you to believe her?

So she didn’t. She just sat down on the couch, burying her face in her hands, listening to the sound of you rustling through the closet.

Hoping—praying—that when morning came, you’d still listen to her.

──────────────────────

You didn’t sleep. You spent the whole night tossing and turning in your bed, too aware of the woman in your living room, too aware of the decisions you had to make. The weight of it all pressed down on you, the endless cycle of pushing and pulling, of loving and hurting. You lay there, staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes, then the hours, as your mind ran in circles.

You tried to convince yourself that it was simple. That love should be enough. If you loved each other, you should just betogether—happy, whole, like life was a perfectly wrapped gift waiting to be opened.

But life wasn’t a fairytale, and love wasn’t always the answer.

That was never the question in your relationship. You knew Vi loved you. And she knew you loved her. But love alone couldn’t erase the damage, the doubts, the nights spent wondering if she would hurt you again. Love couldn’t fix the way she closed off the moment things got hard, or how you were always left picking up the pieces.

You turned onto your side, pressing your face into the pillow with a frustrated sigh. Sleep wasn’t coming—not when your mind was a storm of thoughts crashing into each other.

Lying there, restless, wasn’t helping. So you got up, dragging your feet to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of coffee would bring you the clarity you needed, even if it meant breaking your self-imposed caffeine ban.

You had just poured yourself a mug when a voice made you jump.

“I thought you were trying to quit coffee.”

Vi stood at the kitchen entrance, her hair a mess, eyes still heavy with sleep. In the dim morning light, she looked softer—almost like the Violet you used to know, before everything fell apart.

“Yeah, well,” you muttered, wrapping your hands around your mug for warmth, “I couldn’t sleep, so I kind of need this right now.”

You took a sip without thinking, the heat grounding you for a moment—until your eyes landed on the words printed on the ceramic.

World’s Best Girlfriend.

Your stomach twisted. She had gotten it for you on your birthday, grinning as she handed it over, laughing about how “cheesy” it was. At the time, it had been a joke. Now, it felt like a cruel reminder of everything you had lost.

Vi’s gaze flickered to the mug in your hands, and for a second, you thought you saw something break behind her eyes.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to act normal, pretending it didn’t sting as much as it did. You gestured toward the cabinet. “You know where the mugs are if you want some.”

She hesitated, her fingers twitching at her sides. “Yeah… okay.”

She moved across the kitchen, opening the cabinet with an ease that shouldn’t have felt so natural anymore. As if she had never left. As if she still belonged here.

The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating, but neither of you knew how to break it.

So you just stood there, eyes locked, memories playing like an old film reel in your mind.

You remembered the time Vi tried to bake you a cake for Valentine’s Day, how the middle was still raw, and you both ended up eating the edges with spoons, laughing the whole time. You remembered that one New Year’s Eve when you sat on the kitchen floor, eating instant noodles and drinking cheap champagne because the party you were supposed to go to had been a bust. You remembered the lazy mornings, the soft kisses, the way she used to sneak up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist as you made coffee.

But you also remembered the fights. The slammed doors. The cabinets shut with a little too much force. The nights spent crying, feeling like the love you had wasn’t enough to keep her.

Vi exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of her neck. “Do you remember that time you got a little too invested in sourdough and kept trying to make a starter? And you read somewhere that keeping it in a warm place helped, so you left it in the oven?” She gave you a small, lopsided smile. “But then you forgot about it and preheated the oven for something else, and the house smelled like burned bread for a week?”

A surprised laugh burst out of you, unbidden. “God, yes.” You groaned, shaking your head. “And then you made it worse by trying to air it out with a box fan, but all it did was spread the smell into every room?”

Vi chuckled, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “In my defense, I thought it was a solid plan.”

You snorted, taking another sip of coffee. “It was a terrible plan.”

The moment lingered, stretching between you like a fragile thread. For a second, it almost felt like things were normal, like the past few months hadn’t happened.

But they had.

“I miss you,” you whispered, barely audible, like you were afraid of the words themselves—afraid she would hear them, afraid she wouldn’t. “I missed you every single second.”

Vi sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers twitching at her sides, like she wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if she was allowed to.

You set your mug down with a quiet clink, steadying yourself. You were done crying. You had spent too many nights crying over this already.

“And I spent the whole night weighing the pros and cons of this relationship. I just…” You swallowed, gripping the edge of the counter. “I’m so scared, Violet.”

Your voice cracked on her name, and Vi flinched like you had physically struck her.

“I know,” she murmured, her gaze never leaving yours. “I am too.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re both too scared. Scared to lose each other, scared to stay, scared that loving each other won’t be enough.”

Vi took a hesitant step forward. “But I don’t want to be scared anymore,” she admitted, her voice unsteady. “I don’t want to keep pushing you away just because I think it’s easier than letting you stay. I just—” she exhaled, shaking her head, “I just need to know if there’s even a chance. Even the smallest chance that you’ll give me one more shot.”

You stared at her, at the woman you had loved for so long, the one who had broken your heart and was now standing before you, asking for another piece of it.

And the worst part?

You wanted to give it to her.

So you nodded, hesitantly, barely daring to breathe. “I don’t want to regret this, Vi. I’m exhausted from this push and pull. But I love you too much to let you go.”

Vi’s lips parted slightly, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Then, slowly, a smile broke across her face—small, hesitant, but real.

“Maybe it’s a little selfish. Maybe I’m insane” you admitted, exhaling shakily. “But yes, I’ll give you one more chance.”

Vi let out a breath she had been holding, something like relief flashing across her face. “I won’t waste it,” she swore, stepping closer, cautious but hopeful. “I swear on—” she let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head, “on every bad decision I’ve ever made, I won’t waste it.”

You arched a brow. “That’s a lot of bad decisions, Vi.”

She laughed, and the sound was so familiar, so her, that your chest ached. It was the same laugh that used to fill your apartment, the same one that made you fall in love with her in the first place.

“Yeah, well… I guess I have a lot to make up for.”

You studied her for a long moment, searching her face for any sign of doubt, any crack in the resolve she was promising you. But all you found was sincerity—raw and unfiltered, painted across her expression in a way that made it impossible to doubt her.

So, once more, you let yourself believe her.

And when she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around you, you let yourself melt into her.

Like you always did, like you always would.

Her grip on you was firm but not desperate. Not like she was afraid you would slip away—more like she was certain she wouldn’t let go this time. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, her face tucked against your shoulder, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she breathed.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a single moment of peace.

“But I’m still mad at you,” you muttered, your voice muffled by her body against yours.

Vi let out a breathy chuckle, the sound vibrating against you. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I’d be mad at me too.”

She didn’t try to defend herself, didn’t try to justify the things she had done. She just held you, letting the weight of everything settle between you.

And somehow, despite all the pain, all the uncertainty—she knew, deep in her bones, that everything was going to be okay.

──────────────────────

“i can’t help it, you’re fun to mess with” modern Vi au ? 🩷

✮⋆˙𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 modern!vi x reader ✮⋆˙𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 none ✮⋆˙𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 hi so i had this little thing in my drafts and changed a few things to fit the request !! i hope you like it ♡︎ also - modern vi has a special place in my heart (i just know she'd be a smug bastard)

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

Vi was sprawled across the bed, shirtless, hair still damp from her shower, one arm lazily slung around your waist. You were both on your phones, legs tangled under the covers. Her thumb scrolled absently, while yours hovered over your latest post.

You tried to act casual, but Vi caught the smirk you were failing to hide.

“What did you do?” she asked, suspicion in her voice.

You bit your lip, turning your phone so she could see the photo — a perfectly timed shot of her mid-workout, abs flexed, expression intense, the caption: “yes, she’s mine. no, you can’t have her.”

Vi blinked. “When did you even take that?”

“I have my ways.”

A beat of silence. Then her phone buzzed.

“Oh my god.” She stared at the flood of likes and comments. “‘Vi could ruin my life and I’d say thank you’? Damn.” She let out a low whistle. “These people are thirsty.”

You laughed. “Can you blame them? Look at you.”

Vi rolled onto her side, grinning. “You like showing me off, huh?”

You shrugged, smug. “You’re hot. I’m proud.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against your neck, voice dropping. “Keep talking like that and I’ll give ‘em something new to thirst over.”

“Vi!” you squeaked, pushing at her chest as she laughed.

“You started it,” she said, scrolling again. “Wait—this one says ‘gym? I thought she carried hay bales on a ranch and threw people for fun.’”

You raised a brow. “Did they lie?”

Vi chuckled, clearly loving every second of it. “Nope. But now I feel like I should go shirtless more often.”

“Please don’t,” you deadpanned. “I don’t need a full-blown internet meltdown.”

She winked. “Too late. I am the meltdown.”

You groaned and buried your face in her chest. “Why are you like this?”

She kissed the top of your head. “Because you love me, i can’t help it, you’re fun to mess with”.”

You roll your eyes at her, smug idiot - unfortunately, you really, really did.