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dixons-sunshine · 8 months ago

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Breathe With Me | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: With you and Daryl being in a good place, kissing coming naturally to you both and cuddling no longer awkward, it was inevitable that your make out sessions would start to heat up into something else. However, in the heat of what should’ve been a hot moment, Daryl’s mind started to wander to it’s usual self deprecating depths. Luckily, you were there to help him through it.

Genre: Kinda angsty but mainly fluff

Era: Pre outbreak.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams universe.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, self deprecating thoughts, hyperventilation/panic attack.

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: Another young!Daryl fic in a span of not even two days? Who would’ve thought it was possible? It’s mainly because I’ve been enjoying writing for young!Daryl recently, and I'd be happy to get any requests for this au. Also, I’ve never personally experienced a panic attack myself and this is all based off of what Google told me, so if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can fix it. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

“Shit, girl. Yer gon’ be the death of me.”

“Oh, fuck.”

You giggled against his lips, allowing him to push you down onto the bed. He followed soon after, moving to hover over you before reattaching his lips to yours hungrily. He used one of his hands to hold his weight up, the other one wandering over your exposed stomach. Your shirt was already disposed of and long forgotten, leaving you clad in only your shorts and bra.

To your surprise, when your hands wandered under Daryl's shirt, he only hesitated for a quick moment before withdrawing from the kiss and tugging his shirt over his head. Old and new scars were on display for you, leaving Daryl completely vulnerable under your gaze.

You smiled at him and pulled him down for another kiss, a silent way of thanking him for trusting you. It wasn’t the first time that you had seen his scars—you had helped him with his wounds too many times too count, leaving you familiar with all of his scars—but you always tried to make sure that he knew you didn’t judge him. You loved every part of him, scars and all.

You gasped against his lips when he let his hand trail down, his fingers lightly tracing over your clothed cunt. His tongue entered your mouth and he groaned at the taste. He pulled back momentarily to look at you, his pupils blown with lust.

“Fuck, yer so perfect,” he whispered, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from your jaw to your neck.

You moaned when he kissed a particularly sensitive spot, leaning your head back to grant him better access. Your mind was starting to get cloudy, the only thought on your mind being how good Daryl was making you feel. Admittedly, you were also nervous, since this would be your first time doing something like this, but you trusted Daryl. He wouldn’t ever hurt you.

Daryl was thoroughly enjoying himself. However, when he felt you subconsciously grind your hips against his, his mind zoomed in and focused on one thing—you would regret this. You would regret giving your first time to someone like him. He would be terrible at this and you’d finally kick him to the curb after figuring it out. He didn’t deserve to have you in this way, in your most vulnerable state.

In an unexpected move, you managed to roll you both over. Daryl’s eyes slightly widened in wonder, before smiling and leaning up for another kiss. His hands settled on your waist, allowing you to take the reigns for the moment.

You would regret him.

Daryl’s breathing started becoming erratic. Although you could’ve easily misinterpreted it as him simply getting more turned on, something told you it wasn’t that. You pulled back from the kiss and looked at him, noticing the slightly pained expression on his face. His breathing was quick and choked off, and he seemed to be in some sort of daze. You instantly knew something was wrong.

“Daryl, hey, look at me,” you whispered, cupping his cheek and gently urging him to look at you. When his blue eyes met yours, you could very clearly see the panic in them.

Instantly, all previous lustful thoughts left your mind, concern for your boyfriend taking root in their place. You knew exactly what was happening; Daryl was busy having a panic attack. You helped him into a seated position, still straddling his lap. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest right above your heart, hoping to divert his attention away from whatever negative thoughts were plaguing his mind.

Still looking deeply into his eyes, you gently caressed his cheek with the hand that wasn’t holding his over your heart. “Try to breathe with me, okay?” you whispered, starting to breathe in a controlled rhythm.

Daryl nodded and began to copy your breathing, his sounding more choked up than yours. He tightened his grip on your waist with his hand that was still resting there, desperately trying to ground himself back to reality. It took a while, with you soothingly rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone and breathing with him in a controlled rhythm, but soon he was calming down.

Daryl felt ashamed of himself. There the two of you were, half naked and sharing what should’ve been a blissful, enjoyable experience, and he let himself get into his own head. He let his own insecurities get in the way. He should’ve just sucked it up, but instead he just had to ruin the moment.

You frowned slightly and gently grabbed his face with both hands, urging him to look at you. “Hey, it’s okay,” you assured him. When he shook his head in denial, your grip became more firm. “It is okay. Don’t blame yourself for something that was out of your control, alright? Do you wanna talk about it?”

“M’sorry,” he muttered, looking down to avoid what he thought would've been a disappointed stare.

Daryl hesitated for a moment, but nodded slowly. “I jus’ got into my own head. I was nervous and convinced myself ya would regret givin’ yer virginity to me. Started feelin’ overwhelmed. M’sorry.”

You pressed a kiss against his forehead, giving him a reassuring smile. “Don’t be sorry. I get it. I was nervous too, you know? But I wouldn’t have regretted anything. I trust you. There’s no one I’d rather do this with. But it’s okay if that doesn’t happen right now. I’m ready whenever you are.”

Daryl gave you a small smile before leaning forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “M’still sorry. I was lookin’ forward to this.”

“Me too, but it can wait. Let’s get you taken care of, okay? And I don’t wanna hear any buts, mister.”

Daryl nodded. “Alright,” he agreed, but made no effort to lift you off his lap. Instead, he pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly. “Thank you for understandin'.”

“Of course.”

There was a lot of things going through Daryl’s mind at that moment. Despite your reassuring words, he still felt awful for what happened, his mind continuing to shame him. However, with your hands now gently threading through his hair to bring him some comfort, not giving a damn that you were still half naked and straddling him, he forced his mind to shut up.

And in that moment, it was confirmed in his mind—Daryl Dixon knew that he was never letting you go.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 months ago

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betrothed ~ emperor geta;gladiator ii

word count: 3607

request?: no

description: in which her parents want to arrange a marriage with one of the two emperor brothers, so she is taken to meet them and is surprised when she gets along so well with the younger brother

pairing: emperor geta x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, period typical misogyny/views of women, arranged marriage, historical inaccuracies, definitely going to be an inaccurate depiction of geta because i know that man is going to be a vile villain but y'know

masterlist (one, two, three)

You followed your parents through the halls of the palace. They were walking with their heads high, proud, meanwhile you were trailing behind them, cowering. You had been told just moments before your arrival that your parents intended to marry you off to one of the emperors; brothers Geta and Caracalla. They had offered you up to the brothers for marriage without your knowledge, and now they were bringing you to meet them so one of them could choose to marry you.

You knew eventually your parents would arrange for you to wed. It was an expectation from the moment you started bleeding, meaning you were able to carry children. There were no guarantees you would like your husband to be. That's not how marriage worked. But you never expected to be married off to a man you were terrified of.

Besides the fact that Geta and Caracalla were co-emperors of the entire Roman Empire, you had heard that they were both violent and terrible men. There was no better option in this betrothal, only fear.

Your parents stood before the two emperors. They both already looked bored by the whole affair. You tried not to shrink back further under their glares. Your parents bowed, and you quickly followed as not to be scrutinized further.

"Your majesties," your father spoke. "We present to you our daughter, (Y/N)."

Your mother nudged you forward. You stumbled to the fore front, all attention now on you. You awkwardly bowed again, murmuring, "Your majesties."

"This is who you expect us to marry?" Caracalla sneered. "I've seen whores who have looked prettier. More experienced, too."

Caracalla smirked at his younger brother, but Geta was still staring at you, studying you. You couldn't stop trembling under his intense gaze. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw your mother clenching her jaw. You weren't sure if she was upset over Caracalla's insult, or over your continued awkwardness.

The eldest brother sighed and rose from his seat. "She is yours, brother. I feel no need to fight you over her when I can find myself a better wife."

He left without another word, while Geta was still looking at you. He finally spoke to ask one of his servants to take you to your room. You turned back to your parents, wanting nothing more than for them to change their mind and take you away. Of course they couldn't even if they wanted to. They just smiled at you and allowed themselves to be escorted away by another servant.

You followed the young lady with you to a room that was set to be yours. It was a large room, filled with everything you could ask for. Under different circumstances, you would be enthralled by this new room, but all you could think about was your imminent future. Would you still be in this room after you and Geta were wed? Or would you have to move to his room?

The thought of having to share a bed with him made you feel faint.

You heard someone enter the room as the servant started to leave. You turned to find Geta, stood tall and broad in the doorway. The servant bowed, but Geta's attention was solely on you. He moved from the doorway and motioned for her to leave. Suddenly, you were alone with him.

You remembered yourself and moved to bow. Geta held up a hand. "No need for that. We are to be wed soon, which means you will be the Empress of Rome."

You nodded, but the reminder of your future title left you unable to speak as you were focusing on trying to stay upright.

His eyes were raking over you again. "You are a quiet one."

"I-I am sorry, your majesty," you said, your voice soft and quiet. It seemed to amuse Geta.

"We will change that. My wife will not be seen as cowardly and weak." You merely nodded again. Geta took a step towards you and you tried not to flinch. He stopped and something seemed to soften in his face. "I know what is expected of us once we are wed, but I want you to know that I will not touch you without your consent. You can continue to stay in this room as long as you please. I just ask you to accompany me when I call upon you. Is that agreeable?"

You found your voice finally to say, "Y-Yes."

He nodded, then left without another word. Once you were sure you were alone, you let yourself cry.

~~~~~~

You and Geta were married days later. It was a beautiful wedding, and your parents were allowed to be in attendance. You smiled and pretended to be happy in front of the audience, but in private you were still crying over the whole arrangement.

Geta kept his word; he did not touch you or force you into his room without your consent. He kissed you once on your wedding day, but that was the extent of it. And because he kept to his word, you kept to yours and joined Geta whenever he called on you. It was mainly for official events - meetings, tournaments, and the like - where he needed his wife to be present.

The one time he had asked for your presence for something unofficial was by accident.

You had taken to exploring the palace on your off time. It was so large that even after almost a month of being there, you were still finding new areas to see. You weren't allowed out of the palace on your own as Geta said it was too dangerous, but there were plenty of days when you wished you could see the grounds, and not just to see the gladiator tournaments.

You were wandering the halls on your own when you suddenly ran into Geta. You didn't expect to see him as you thought he was having a meeting with his brother and the general. You also didn't expect the smile that he gave you when he saw you.

"Hello, my darling," he said.

"Geta," you said, stopping yourself before you instinctively bowed. "I did not expect to see you so soon."

"My meeting was cut short." Geta sighed and shook his head. "My brother has quite the temper sometimes. It is why I usually handle these type of things."

You couldn't help the look on your face in response to his comment. To your further surprise, he laughed.

"I know, I do not seem much better. But I promise you when you have seen me lose my temper, it is mostly warranted. Caracalla will lose his temper because he is not being spoken to directly, even though there were several of us there."

When he stepped towards you, you didn't back away the way you would have when you first met him. He offered an arm to you and asked, "Will you allow me to accompany you, my darling?"

You felt you couldn't say no since you both had an agreement, but you also felt a surprising desire to have him accompany you. So, you took his arm, and he started to walk with you.

"How would you like to see the grounds?" he asked.

"I thought it was too dangerous."

"Only if you go on your own. We cannot risk our enemies finding the Empress on her own. They could harm you, take you, or kill you."

You tensed beside him. You were still getting used to how dangerous this new role you had was.

He noticed your tenseness and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. "I will not let anything happen to you. Trust me, my darling. You are safe with me."

And you believed him. Had he not been keeping that promise, even before making it? He had made sure you didn't leave the palace unsupervised, he was always by your side during public events. This may not have been a love marriage, but it was clear you both had respect for one another.

Seeing the outside of the palace for something other an a gladiator fight was lovely. The view - which you got from your room anyways, but this was different - was breathtaking. You often forgot how beautiful Rome was. It was easy to see so much of the land since the palace was placed higher above everyone else (you tried not to think about the implications of that).

"Do you ever leave the palace?" you asked him. "Besides for your official meetings and such?"

"Not usually," he responded. "It is too dangerous for me to go out on my own, and what would the point of going out with my guards be? I could not truly enjoy being out."

"That sounds awful," you commented, mainly to yourself. This may be a new role and new rules for you, but this was something Geta had been putting up with his entire life. He was the son of a previous Emperor, he was raised in this exact palace. He was probably under a watchful eye his entire life, very rarely ever getting moments alone.

He seemed amused by your comment, though. "Would you want to leave the palace? Obviously, as I said, we cannot leave alone, but we could always go for a walk with the guards."

You simply looked up at him. You were astonished by how nice he was being. Granted, you hadn't spent much time with Geta away from the watchful eyes of his armies or his people, but you had heard plenty about Geta before meeting and marrying him. Everyone called him and his brother ruthless and vile men. You had met plenty of people who would spit at the ground at just the mention of their names, and others who would curse upon them. Caracalla certainly lived up to his reputation, but so far, Geta only did when he had an audience.

"Is there something the matter?" he asked.

"I...am surprised by you," you admitted.

"Surprised by me? What have I done to surprise you?"

"You are...kind."

Any other person would probably be offended by the fact that being kind was a surprise. But Geta was well aware of the reputation he and his brother had, so he completely understood why you were shocked to learn that he had a kinder side to him.

He stopped walking and turned to face you. He had taken your hands in his and ran his thumbs over your knuckles. "Being in such high power, there is a certain image you must uphold so that you do not appear weak to your enemies. That is what our father told us when we were young. He taught us to be ruthless so that others knew not to fuck with us or our families. Caracalla took to that more than I did. He has a temper, he enjoys violence, although he would never put himself on the front lines during a war, and he believes he has the right to anything and everything he wants because he is an Emperor. He sometimes forgets that that is a title he shares with me."

"Everyone says you are both the same," you pointed out.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "All for show, my darling. If I was to show myself as being weaker than my brother, then I would be a target."

Geta moved an inch closer to you. You found yourself inhaling sharply at his sudden closeness, but not in fear as you may have once done.

"It is why I will be forever grateful that Caracalla did not want to marry you," he said. "From the moment you were brought before us, I could tell that you were not like he is; not like how I pretend to be. If Caracalla had wed you, he would not have been as...kind to you as I have been."

You knew what he meant, and the thought of it made you shudder.

"I was willing to take him in combat to marry you if I had to," Geta admitted. "Which I knew he would turn down anyways because, like I said, he is not one to fight his own battles. But I would not doubt him to try so that he could be the one to wed and have an heir first."

It was a lot to take in. You had come into this marriage thinking you knew everything about Geta, but you were learning just how wrong you were to think that. And you were certainly more than happy to be wrong.

You were suddenly much more aware of his closeness to you and the feeling of his hands on yours. It made your heart beat a little faster, and your body light on fire. You wondered if he felt it too, whatever "it" was.

"Thank you," you said, your voice so soft it was almost a whisper. You weren't sure what you were thanking him for; for being honest? For being kind? For protecting you?

Either way, he did not question it. He merely smiled down at you and said, "You are welcome, my darling."

~~~~~~

The next time you were called upon was a few days later for another gladiator tournament. Geta and Caracalla had acquired a new gladiator (Geta had told you not to question how this "acquiring" happened, and you were more than happy to follow his word), and it seemed they wanted to put him to the test immediately. Caracalla was practically giddy with excitement over it, while Geta remained as composed as he could.

You had followed them to their perch - high above the arena and closed off to anyone who was not one of the Emperors or their people. There were two seats for both Emperors, and both were big enough to seat two people. You took your place next to Geta, the side of your body pressing against his as you sat. The small contact alone made your body tingle, but now was not the time to get lost in these new feelings. You had an audience, and in front of an audience there was an image to uphold. You had come to learn very quickly how to act when you were in front of others - head held high, stone faced, follow whatever Geta said to you.

The crowd below you were cheering in excitement. Caracalla was already on the edge of his seat, impatient for the fighting to begin. You, on the other hand, were just waiting for the moment it ended.

You hated the gladiator fights. You didn't like the violence, and almost every time you had come since marrying Geta, they had ended in death. You often had nightmares about what you had seen inside the coliseum.

The crowd roared as the gates opened and the new gladiator entered. Across from him, another gate opened and three other men - past winners of these tournaments - stepped out.

You gasped. "Three against one?"

"Three winners," Caracalla said. "We must see how well our new fighter can do."

"That is hardly fair!"

"Nothing is fair in combat." He had a shit eating grin on his face, and you wished nothing more than to punch him directly in that grin of his.

But, since you couldn't do that, you did the next best thing and retorted, "What do you know of combat?"

Your words seemed to do enough as Caracalla's painted white face started to turn pink with anger. Geta caught your eye and smirked at you, making you feel even more proud of yourself.

The fighting started, and it was quite clear that the new gladiator could hold his own. He took down the first of the three with no problem, taking his weapon and incapacitating him within seconds. The second man put up more of a fight, but eventually he went down as well. The third was smarter. He had been waiting for his chance to go one on one with the new gladiator, saving his strength and his energy. And once it was just the two of them, the third man struck with a vigor.

You gasped as the new gladiator was wounded, blood spraying from a gash on his leg. Geta reached over to take your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. It did little to reassure you as your eyes stayed glued to what was happening below. The new gladiator had fell to his knees, but was still fighting the best he could. The third man was stood over him, sword in hand. It was clear to both of them, as well as the entire audience, who the winner was. They were just waiting for the say.

Geta stood from his seat, letting go of your hand. He looked over at his brother, who was nearly falling out of his chair with excitement. But when he looked to you, he saw a completely different reaction. You tried to rarely show emotion at these battles, but you had found yourself with tears in your eyes over the unfair odds against the new gladiator. He was about to lose his life because Caracalla and the other men involved with creating these tournaments did not care to play fair.

Seeing your upset seemed to soften Geta. He turned back to the two men who were waiting below and held out a fist.

The audience went silent as Geta flipped his thumb upward, signaling for the new man to be spared.

There was a moment, as if waiting to make sure Geta was serious, before the third man sheathed his sword. The new gladiator hunched over, his leg still bleeding from his wound. Someone would come and get him and patch him up, you were sure, but neither of you stuck around long enough to see. Geta had turned back to you almost immediately and extended a hand to you. He helped you up from your seat, then looped an arm through yours to guide you back inside.

"You spared him," you said, still in disbelief.

"You did not want to see him die," he responded, as if it were common sense.

"But...every other time..."

"Every other time has been a fair fight. As you said, it was unfair for him to be up against three previous victors. He will be treated, and should he survive from the wound on his leg, he will continue to train so that he can fight again. This time, more fairly."

You couldn't believe what he was saying. He had spared a man for you. Because you said the odds were unfair, because seeing this man die would've upset you too much.

He did this for you.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by Caracalla calling, "You have gone soft, brother!"

The two of you turned to see Geta's brother storming towards you. His face was now completely red with anger as he pointed at his brother. "You have made a mockery of us."

"I hardly think sparing one man's life makes anyone think any differently of us," Geta scoffed.

"It makes us look weak! It will make them all think that we are too weak to call for the death of another man."

"It was an unfair fight, brother. I was not going to let our new gladiator lose when the odds were against him in such an unfair way."

Caracalla's eyes flickered to you for a moment. You had to stop yourself from shrinking behind Geta.

"So she is the problem then?" Caracalla said. "This bitch has made you soft."

Before you could register what was happening, Geta had Caracalla up against a wall with a dagger to his brother's throat. The guards were watching, unsure what they were meant to do.

"Do not speak of my wife that way ever again," Geta hissed. "If I ever hear of you demeaning her, or me, again, I will make sure it is you who ends up in the arena next. Do I make myself clear, brother?"

Caracalla nodded quickly. You thought you could see tears briming his lash line, but you weren't completely sure. When Geta let him go, he crumbled to the floor. His guards were quick to surround him, while yours and Geta's followed the two of you. Geta's dagger was sheathed and his hand was in yours again in a matter of seconds.

"Was that smart?" you asked him. "Could he use that against you at all?"

"I do not care what he intends to do about my threat," Geta muttered. "I will not have him insulting my wife like that, especially not to my face."

You stopped walking, pulling Geta to a halt. He looked back at you, confused. You pulled him to you and pressed your lips against his. He seemed surprised, but he certainly wasn't about to push you off of him. You had known for a while that the feeling growing within you was love, but now you were finally realizing that Geta truly did feel the same way for you. He was willing to spare a man's life, and to threaten his brother's, in your honor. That was so much more than just a mutual respect.

You pulled away first, albeit reluctantly, to tell him, "I wish to stay with you in your room tonight. And maybe...for the foreseeable future, if you will have me."

Geta's face lit up. He gently cupped your cheeks and pulled you in for another gentle kiss. "Of course, my darling. I wish to have you for as long as you wish to be with me."

#emperor geta #emperor geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #gladiator ii #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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if-loves · 5 months ago

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consume

// Yandere Jiaoqiu

sum: The fastest way to a person’s heart is through their stomach. Or so they say.

wc: 871

warnings: written before jiaoqiu release (probably OOC jq), mentions of drugs and implied drugging, fem reader

a/n: sorry for the disappearance i had exams xd take whatever this is as compensation

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

When Jiaoqiu loves, he does so wholly. He gives his heart and some, devotes his being, and allows the love to consume him. He feels the warmth rush over him, and he can’t help the smile that lives on his lips, the happiness that blooms in his chest.

He loves until he is squeezed dry, until the warmth disappears, until that happiness dies and the love spits him out; but he takes it all in stride, for as a foxian, his time in this mortal world is but a flicker compared to the rest of the Xianzhou’s inhabitants.

When Jiaoqiu meets you, he is instantaneously enamored. You are, to him, love personified, the one life in this universe made for him. He’s known it since the moment he saw you, and the feeling is only amplified when he speaks to you. Something in him, desperate and lovesick, calls for you.

You’re introduced as a healer from the Luofu, sent to the Yaoqing on an exchange between ships. You, like him, are a foxian, a pair of fluffy ears on the top of your head, and a cute bushy tail on your back. Naturally, you’re under his care.

While you are capable, you are also terribly shy around him. You only speak when spoken to, and you do your job dutifully, with no complaints. You’re independent, and Jiaoqiu can’t help but lament that. He wants you to depend on him, to see him as a reliable senior, someone you can turn to even if you’re not in a pinch. He wants you, yet you don’t seem to want him too.

So, he courts you the best way he knows how. There’s a saying that goes something like “the fastest to a person’s heart is through their stomach”, and although biologically inaccurate (the actual fastest way is through the veins), holds true - no one can resist food made with love, not even someone like you. Everyone must eat, and why pay for a meal when one sits in front of you for free?

The smile on his face is infectious.

~~~

With every passing day, the meals become more intricate. What started with simple stir fried dishes became more complex meals that could only be found in restaurants, all handmade by him. He watches as you eat all of them with a smile, happiness radiating off your figure as your ears twitch and your tail wags in unmistakable contentment. The food is good, yes. The drug has managed to slip in unnoticed as well.

It’s easy for him, really. Jiaoqiu doesn’t need to search for an alchemist, nor a chef. He is both, and he has more than enough knowledge and skills in both fields to be able to incorporate them in his work. Concocting a drug is just as easy as cooking a heartfelt meal, especially when it’s for the same person.

He is quite happy to know that you enjoy both.

~~~

It’s with a smile on your face that you tell him that you’ve applied to stay on the Yaoqing permanently, to stay by his side. You cite that learning under him was like exploring the galaxy, boundless knowledge awaiting you, and his home cooked meals always bring you warmth, like the embrace of a mother.

He takes all of your words to heart, a blush spreading across his face as you turn away. He vaguely feels his tail swaying drunkenly, and he feels like he’s the one who’s been drugged. He knows that this is the influence of the drugs he has been feeding you, but he cannot help but feel elated at your words. You complimented him… You want to stay because of him… You want to stay for him…

Jiaoqiu decides to invite you over for dinner, to celebrate the occasion.

~~~

Perhaps he went a bit overboard with the dose, or perhaps he wanted this to happen. Whatever the reason, Jiaoqiu has filled your meal with aphrodisiacs, and a lot more than usual.

To see them take so quickly was honestly a surprise to him, but he could not complain of the way you started to cling to him, digging your face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. The heat radiating off of your body told him plenty, and he did not mind. No, he didn’t mind at all, not even a single bit.

When you lift your head from his neck, your lips meet his, a collision of desire and lust, born from expertly manipulated strings. When you part, a thin string of saliva connects the two of you, and Jiaoqiu thinks he would like to swallow you whole.

When he brings you to the most intimate room in his home, and when you show each other your most vulnerable sides, he thinks it’s okay if everything isn’t so natural. Healing nowadays is aided by many external factors, love is no different. All you needed was a little push, just like how people need a little medicine to help their bodies fight off their illnesses.

When his mouth finds the junction between your neck and your shoulder, he licks and sucks, and finally sinks his canines in.

You’d let him consume you whole, wouldn’t you?

#honkai star rail #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere x reader #fem reader #female reader #jiaoqiu #yandere jiaoqiu #yandere jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x reader

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romanticintheory · 7 months ago

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he’s drunk and confessing his love to you, but you’re not taking any of his shit.

kyle “gaz” garrick x reader

hurt/comfort, drinking, gn!reader written by an nb, hella inaccurate depiction of a drunk person

a/n: this is my first time writing for cod so please be kind </3 if you have any critiques just let me know (gently, preferably)

word count: 1.3k

“I’m in love with you.”

You were so focused on navigating him back to his room that you had almost missed his confession. About half an hour ago, Kyle had asked you to pick him up from the pub after he went out drinking with his friends. You asked why he didn’t want to take a cab and he so charmingly responded with, “Well, I wanted to see your pretty face, love.”

Now, he was leaning most of his weight on your shoulder as you tried your damned hardest to not let him run into any walls or hit his hips on any counters or tables. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and kicked his door open, helping Kyle settle down on his bed.

“Is that so?” You countered jokingly, shaky hands helping peel off his coat. Maybe, just maybe, this was the setup to a terrible joke.

“Yeah,” he answered, looking up at you with a dreamy smile after placing his coat next to his nightstand. Slowly, the drunken soldier watched as the amused look in your eyes morphed into something hardened.

“What’s wrong?” He asked you, brows furrowing as you wordlessly crouched down to help him take off his shoes.

“Kyle, you’re drunk,” you reasoned, untying his laces and carefully slipping off his boots. “I told you not to have too many drinks and now listen to all the nonsense you’re saying.”

“You think I’m lying?”

“I know you are.”

The more the topic lasted, so did your frustration. You had spent years of your life pining after Kyle Garrick. He was kind, always helped you out when he was able, always made time for you, always came to visit when he came back from missions, and never let you feel like you were less than nothing when he was around. He was perfect, and that was the exact problem. There was no world in which Kyle Garrick would fall for you.

“Why would you say that?”

You could feel your heart constrict in your chest. It was almost as if he were making fun of you at this point, though you knew he would never be so cruel. Setting his boots to the side, you stood up from your spot in front of him and turned to leave. “Good night, Kyle.”

In an instant, he stood up to match you. “(Y/n), wait,” he said hurriedly, clumsily following you as you made a beeline for his front door, after you like a lost puppy following its owner.

Despite his intoxication, he was able to catch up to your brisk pace with an almost concerning ease and grasp your hand gently. You turned to look at him, his face now etched with concern. He felt like he sobered up instantly.

“It’s almost four in the morning. You should go to bed,” you reasoned with him, trying to find any way to avoid confronting his confession—if it even really was one.

“You know I wouldn’t joke with you about this, right? ‘S that what you think this is? That I’d do something like that to you?” He kept digging for an answer, pulling your wrist so that your whole body faced him. In the back of your mind, you become extremely conscious of the fact that his front door is only three feet away from you.

Kyle seemed to notice, too, because he took the opportunity to take your other wrist and slide both his hands up your arms to take a firm grasp at your shoulders.

“No. That’s not what I think, I just—” you paused and exhaled through your nose, wishing he’d just let you go, but you know him. If he’s concerned about you, he won’t let you leave until he’s sure it’ll be okay. “Like I said, you’re drunk and you’re thinking things are true when they’re not. Now, will you please let me go home so both of us can get some rest?”

He laughs softly. Not in a mocking manner, but in a sad, empathetic way.

“This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment revelation.” His hands come away from your shoulders and find themselves cupping your face. “Why do you think I want to be around you all the time?”

“Are friends not supposed to want to be around each other?”

He scoffs at the counter, a small smile creeping up on his face.

“Fine. Why do you think I only look at you whenever you enter the room? Why do you think I’ve never once liked any of your past partners? Why, in all the time we’ve known each other, do you think I’ve never had a partner, myself? Ask Price. Actually, ask anyone who knows me. You are the only thing on my mind. It’s always you, and I thought I could stay in denial for a little while longer, but I can’t.”

He takes a shaky breath and strokes your cheek gently with his right thumb.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, but don’t tell me I’m not in love with you when you are the only one I’d watch the world burn for.”

You would have been melted into a puddle at this point if you weren't offended at the insinuation that you didn’t return his feelings. Still, you were convinced none of it mattered.

“Kyle,” you say gently, raising your hands to rest on his. “You could do so much better. You and I both know that.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. Letting you… love me would probably be one of the most selfish things I could do. I can’t let you do that,” you whispered, trying to pry his hands away from you. They wouldn’t budge.

“I’ll love you anyway.”

“You’re drunk.”

“You’re gorgeous.”

“See? You’re proving my point.”

“And if I tell you I’m in love with you in the morning?”

“It won’t matter.”

“Tell me you don’t want me. Look at me in my eyes and say you aren’t in love with me, and I’ll leave you alone. Tell me you’d be unhappy being with me, or something about what you actually want because I know you’re too kind to take what you want from others. You take care of people. Even just now, you agreed to take me home even though you knew I could take cab. Every time I have to cancel plans, you just smile and say it's alright like it’s not disrespectful to y—”

“It’s not like you can control when you have to go to work,” you reminded him.

“That. That sweetness only you bring is exactly what I mean. It’s one of the things I love about you most and I wish you could see it in yourself like I see you. You’re always the one taking care of me. Let me take care of you, this time. Please.”

It wasn’t until his small please that you realized tears were starting to form in the corners of your eyes. At first, you tried to speak but you mouth wouldn’t open. The overwhelming feeling of his hands caressing your face and his pleading words swirling around in your head was sending you into a state of panic.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down, you said, “In the morning. When you’re sober.”

Kyle’s face lit up instantly, and the small smile lingering on his lips only grew. Finally taking his hands off your face, he slid his palms into yours and gently kissed your knuckles.

“When I’m sober,” he agreed.

“Goodnight, Kyle,” you sighed, secretly savoring the interaction.

“Goodnight, love.”

The sound of Kyle calling your cell phone was what happened to wake you up that next morning.

it's 3:30 am and i don't have the energy to proofread this, sorry </3 anyway, I was inspired to write this by @/groguspicklejar who indirectly introduced me to cod with her fanfics. i am now extremely down bad for these boys :') if you liked this you should send her love because she slays!! ok goodnight im so tired <3 i love u

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #kyle garrick hurt/comfort #tf141 x reader #kyle garrick imagine #kyle gaz garrick imagine #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gazgarrick fanfic #cod fanction #call of duty fanction #call of duty imagine #cod mw x reader #rarawrites

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paranoiddreams · 28 days ago

Note

Hello! It's currently Halloween where I am, so what about reader taking any of the JJK men to Halloween Horror night where they get chased by clowns and all kinds of creepy cosplay. 100 points if any of them scream like a girl or puff up like a cat.

You can choose which JJK men. 😊

Happy Halloween 🎃

SCREAM! (HC)

🎃 [Inc.] Satoru, Sukuna, Yuji, Megumi

🎃 Warnings!! - fem!reader, some swearing, descriptions of (fake) blood/gore, movies/shows like The Exorcist, Chucky, Stranger Things, The Last of Us, Beetlejuice, and The Haunting of Hill House, cocky Satoru (what’s new), Megumi’s is terribly sweet, lol, Yuji’s is actually a lil sad I didn’t intent that lmao

🎃 A/n!! - Hello!!! Thank you so much for the ask, I’m currently working on another ask, but thought that I should get this one out before Halloween ends! If I don’t manage to, I’m sincerely sorry, but I hope you enjoy this anyways! I also haven’t been to any of the haunted houses I mention, so if the experience is inaccurate I apologize hehe. Have a happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates it, and a wonderful night to everyone who doesn’t!🫶🏻🤍

🍡Satoru🍡

Satoru is ALL FOR the idea

In fact, he was the one who brought it up.

Going to a theme park to get a good scare, AND have his girlfriend cling to his arm the whole night?

That’s a plan if he’s ever heard one.

“You can hold onto me if you get scared, love~”

Y/n looks up at Satoru, a smile playing on her lips. “Me? Are you sure you won’t get scared, Toru?”

Satoru laughs, waving off the idea with his hand. “You kidding, love?! I’m the strongest, how could I get scared?”

He’s eating his words by the third haunted house.

The first was alright, just an alien invasion walk through, which he found himself practically flying through.

You, in the other hand, took his offer to your advantage, and held onto his arm every time a slimy animatronic creature popped out of the wall.

“Don’t look so smug, Toru,” y/n scoffs as they walk out of the first haunted house, her heart still racing a bit.

“I don’t even need my 6 eyes to tell that you’re scared, baby! It’s okay to admit I was right—I usually am,” Satoru smiles, leaning down to kiss her cheek, only to be met with a scowl.

“Whatever…”

Boy are you happy when you both enter an exorcist themed haunted house, and Satoru’s body stiffens significantly beside you.

It’s dark, and thick fog fills the house as you both walk through.

There’s screaming and growling in the distance, which seems to move around the house.

You’re holding onto Satoru’s arm even tighter, but his smug smile is nowhere to be seen.

The last room of the house comes into view, a wave of relief washing over the couple as they walk eagerly to the door.

When Satoru twists the handle, the old wood creaking loudly, an actor dressed as a priest jumps out.

“Help! Help!” The man screams, his white collar stained with blood. He’s then seemingly dragged to the side of the room, a growl emitting from the corner.

Satoru walks hesitantly inside, y/n clinging to his side. Another actor, a little girl resembling the same one in the movie this house took inspiration from, is standing over the priest, blood and black liquid dripping from her mouth.

Y/n screams, running towards the exit on the other side of the room. She drags Satoru along, his face pale and frozen in fear.

Yk the face Satoru pulled when he first met Megumi?

Yeah, that’s what he looks like when you both leave the haunted house.

He can feel his heart beating rapidly, but puts on a brave face for you, of course.

That is, until the third, and last house of the night.

You insisted, since the haunt was based off of the show “The Last of Us”, and you both had watched it earlier that year

But little did you know, Satoru was nervously biting the inside of his cheek each episode.

But how could he say no to you when you looked so sweet, looking up at him with those adorable eyes of yours???

“Last one. It’s…getting late.”

Y/n looks up at Satoru as they both walk towards the, apparently, last house of the night.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared, Satoru Gojo,” she smiles, reaching a finger up to poke his cheek.

He grabs her hand, stopping her from touching his face. “Don’t tease me, love, you can’t talk,” he says, putting her finger between his teeth.

“Shut up!” Y/n pouts, pulling her finger back.

“Trust me, you’re going to want to leave after this one,” Satoru says, looking up at the large haunted attraction they’re about to enter.

Satoru thinks he’s got everything together when you first walk in, more interested in the set they’ve built and how accurate it is to the show

Until the first clicker pops out and he’s brought back to the scenes of the show that made him nearly jump off of the couch.

He quite literally screams like a little girl, his mask falling off, which only blinds the actor decorated in the costume that scared Satoru in the first place.

Now they’re both screaming, and you’re off to the side with a shell-shocked expression, wondering to yourself how this even happened.

“Baby…don’t be mad, please?”

“Satoru…” you grumble, looking out the window of his car, “we’re banned for life…”

“Honestly…” he sighs, “wasn’t even thinking of going back after that.”

Y/n glares at him from the passenger seat, her arms crossed over her chest. But when she remembers the screams of her boyfriend, the actor, and a little boy behind them who happened to witness the incident, a snort escapes her lips.

“You’re such a dork,” she laughs, leaning over the center console to grab his hand, kissing his knuckles. “I didn’t want to go back after the first house anyways.”

🫀Sukuna🫀

He is not amused one bit.

Why the hell would humans create a whole event just to dress up and scare themselves? It’s stupid!

But when you ask him so sweetly to attend with you, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

“This night will be a waste of time,” Sukuna grumbles down at y/n as they walk around the crowded amusement park, actors dressed as demons, vampires, clowns, and zombies jumping out to scare people.

When one of them, a man in an elaborate clown getup, comes up screaming, honking a horn in y/n’s face, Sukuna can feel his anger boil. It takes every ounce of his cursed-being, and a harsh squeeze of his hand from his girlfriend, for him to compose himself and walk away.

“Sukuna, do not—“

“What were they thinking?! Getting in your face, invading your space like that!” He grumbles, his hand still in y/n’s. “Assholes…”

You decide to take him into a haunted house, hoping it’ll be a little less invasive.

There are various options every year, but you’re happy that this year includes a movie you both watched, and Sukuna didn’t seem too annoyed by:

Beetlejuice.

He even chuckled a few times!

“Oh? That movie? Yes, I remember,” Sukuna says, recounting the movie as soon as y/n points to the cryptic house in the distance.

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much effort for her to take him inside of the attraction; he was practically the one dragging her in, actually.

With a wicked smile, Sukuna looks at the surroundings of the house as music blares through hidden speakers, the familiar purple and green theme of the movie throughout. He holds y/n’s hand while walking through the halls, seemingly unfazed by the actor leading them through, and the animatronics jumping out at every corner to scare them.

He starts to feel his distaste for ‘frivolous human events’ quickly turns to amusement when y/n practically clings to him even more throughout the house. Every jumpscare, loud noise, or enthusiastic actor that pops out and sends waves of fear through her body no longer gets a death stare from Sukuna; rather, he finds himself laughing at the little effort it takes his girlfriend, relishing in the feeling of priority he gets every time she squeezes his fingers or bicep.

When they come towards the end of the house, and the infamous character of Beetlejuice comes out himself, y/n is initially really giddy and pulling Sukuna towards him to take a picture.

But when they go, one of the huge, iconic sandworms from the movie pops out in front of them. That, including the cackling laughs of the actor portraying Beetlejuice, elicit a horrified scream from y/n, while Sukuna is openly chuckling as she pulls him out.

He’s shaking his head as you both leave, but can’t help the small smile on his face when he looks down to see you still holding onto his muscular arm.

You’re even laughing now, telling him how much of a thrill that was.

He thinks he’s starting to understand why humans come to places like this by the time the moon has risen high in the sky, and a glint of exhaustion sparkles in your eyes.

As the car drives down the nearly empty highway, soft music playing from the radio, y/n leans her head on the window. Her eyes flutter closed every few moments, the memories of that night flashing in her mind.

“Hey, brat,” sukuna calls softly from the driver’s seat, his hand gripping the steering wheel, “you’re that tired, huh?”

Y/n lifts her head, looking over at her boyfriend in the sliver of moonlight pouring through his window.

“Yeah,” she hums, resting her hand atop his on the center console, “I had a lot of find today, Kuna.”

Sukuna thinks about suppressing his smile as he usually does, but when he looks over at y/n and sees her sleepy eyes, he can’t. She won’t even remember this tomorrow, he thinks.

“I did too, surprisingly.”

Y/n lifts her head slightly, a smile slowly forming on her lips. “You did?” She asks. “You really did?”

“I really did,” Sukuna sighs, looking at the road ahead. “Human’s aren’t entirely stupid, I suppose; but the whole Halloween tradition is still meaningless to me.”

Y/n giggles, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. “So you’ll go with me again next year?”

Sukuna turns his head to look at her, a flash of amusement in his eyes. She wants to go again?

“Silly girl,” he smiles, lifting her hand up to his lips, “you want to indulge in something that made you shake in terror again?”

Y/n shrugs her shoulders, blushing a bit at the feeling of his lips against her skin.

“You scare me, but I come back to you every night, don’t I?”

“Hmm…you’re very right, little lamb.”

⭐️Yuji⭐️

Another boy who’s all for it

He’s actually been to many Halloween themed parks ever since he was a kid, his grandpa usually taking him.

“He was a sucker for a good scare!” He’d tell you, an enthusiastic smile on his face.

Sobbing and crying.

So ofc, you’re putting on your bravest face the whole time in order not to ruin his night.

“Babe! Babe! Look, there’s a house for stranger things! And the Exorcist, annnnd Chucky! We have to go to the Chucky one, please baby?!”

Y/n, looking around with a subtle sweat building at her hairline, sends him the best smile she can. “Y-yeah! Let’s go, Yuj…”

Yuji takes his girlfriend’s hand, dragging her along like a kid in a candy store. He points out each detail of the park, screaming and cackling every time an actor jumps out to scare both of them.

Y/n on the other hand…is a mess on the inside. She uses every ounce of her being to put on a smile, and force out those breathy-fake laughs she hates doing so much.

But it’s all worth it each time she sees Yuji’s perfect smile, or hears his infectious laugh.

Yuji drags you to the Chucky attraction first, a giddy pep to his step.

You’re trying not to shake too much as screaming and music boom from inside the house, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s hand tightly.

But of course, your sweet, sweet baby Yuji only takes this as your equal excitement, dragging you faster towards the house.

The walls are painted bright shades of yellow, red, blue, and decorated with various pictures of the doll the house is based on, music and childish laughter flowing through the speakers hidden throughout.

“Woah! Look at how elaborate this place is!” Yuji couldn’t be more excited, looking around with his big, curious, brown eyes, and a smile.

But y/n, she can only focus on the anxiety creeping up her spine as they walk through the maze-like halls, a constant feeling of fear nagging at her. She tries to shove it down, but each and every time the red-headed demonic doll pops out of the walls or paintings, she can’t help but scream like a little girl.

Yuji doesn’t really notice, too busy screaming and laughing himself; only, he’s thrilled to have the constant rush of fear flowing through him.

Y/n, standing next to him and squeezing his hand, is starting to chip away at her pride and confidence.

It isn’t until the stranger things haunted house that Yuji realizes something is wrong with the way you’re acting.

Throughout the first half of the tour, you seem fine, gazing at the LED lights and elaborate set pieces that are so similar to the show

But when the first loud bang, and cloud of thick fog, rolls in, he can practically feel you shaking next to him.

“Baby…are you okay?”

Y/n looks up, Yuji’s face illuminated by the red LED lights surrounding them. “Yeah, what are you talking about, Yuji?” She smiles back at him, swinging their arms together in between them as they walk.

Yuji decides not to push her any further, instead continuing down the twisting halls of the haunted house.

But when they both turn a corner, and a large demogorgon rips through a slimy, grotesque ‘portal’ in the wall, y/n looses all confidence, her terrified state finally coming to fruition.

This time, Yuji isn’t laughing at the high-tech animatronic jump scares. It takes one glance over at his pretty girlfriend’s face twisted in a genuinely horrified scream for him to pick her up bridal style, and run towards the exit.

It takes at least five minutes of you reassuring him your fine before he puts you back down lmao

He’s so worried, pressing his fingers to your pulse every few minutes to check if your heart is slowing down.

He genuinely feels so so bad for not noticing your fear sooner, feeling like the worst boyfriend ever.

But you assure him it was you who didn’t want to show your fear, putting on a face for him.

“But…why didn’t you just tell me, y/n? We could’ve left way earlier!”

Y/n looks down at the wooden picnic table they snagged, picking at the decrepit wood. “I know…but you were so excited, and I didn’t want to be a big baby about it.”

Yuji’s heart breaks, and he leans over to wrap his arms around you tightly. “Baby, please, you could never be a big baby about anything,” he says into her hair, “if you’re scared of something, hell, I’m terrified of it. We never have to come back again.”

Y/n pulls away, looking into his eyes. “No, no, Yuji, we can’t! You love this place, we can—“

“No,” yuji pouts dramatically, now acting as if he was the one who was scared out of his mind a minute ago, “I’m scared. I wanna leave.”

“Yuj—“

“Please?”

Yuji looks at y/n with those damn puppy eyes, and she can’t help but laugh. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

Yuji just smiles. “For you, and only you, my looooveeee,” he says, dragging out his words for emphasis.

As they both walk back to the parking lot, looking for Yuji’s car, y/n looks back at the amusement park in the distance.

“You sure it’s okay we leave, Yuji? I know you and your grandpa came here every year…”

Yuji stops, his pink hair blowing in the night wind as he looks down at his perfect girlfriend. He smiles, and ruffles the top of her hair.

“Yeah, well my grandpa would much rather me spend my time with the love of my life than at a stupid theme park that’ll come back next year,” he says wholeheartedly. “He would have loved you more than a stupid tradition.”

🫐Megumi🫐

Okay, be warned, if you take this man to any kind of theme park, he’s GOING to be that nonchalant-doesn’t gaf kinda guy

So when you decide to take him to Halloween Horror Nights, you’re expecting the same kind of behavior from him.

BUT NO!

This man is on guard from the moment you both get through the gates

He was complaining about how expensive the tickets were, before he stopped and looked around, eyes wide and completely silent.

“Megs? Are you okay?”

Megumi is too concerned with the man in an elaborate zombie costume a few feet away, his eyes slanted. Y/n recognizes the look in his eyes as the look he has when he senses cursed energy in an area they’re in.

But when he takes her hand ever so subtly, she knows that isn’t the case.

“Are you…scared, honey?” She asks in a hushed tone, holding back a laugh.

Megumi’s azure eyes dart down to hers, his lips forming a thin line. “Y/n…” he says in a warning tone.

“What?” She exclaims. “I’m a little nervous too, don’t worry baby—“

“I’m not scared.”

That man does not want to admit he’s scared JSHEBSIWVVW

But by the time it gets darker, and you both start walking around more parts of the park, stakes start rising.

Actors in makeup and costumes jump out and chase you both, eliciting screams and laughs from you, but DEATH STARES from your poor boyfriend🥲

“Megumi! Stop looking at them like that when they scare us!”

Megumi looks at y/n, an annoyed huff escaping his lips. He opens his mouth to say something, but a man in clown makeup and a colorful-bloody costume slides past them, honking a loud horn in both of their faces.

Y/n jumps, squeezing Megumi’s hand, while he practically yanks her into his arms, almost resembling a cat when it’s fur puffs up in fear.

“Megs—“

“Let’s go to the ice cream stand.”

He’ll say he wants to get a food item from every food stand you both pass, but in reality he just knows the actors can’t get too close to them there HAHAHAH.

He’ll end up spending all of his money (that Gojo gave him for his ‘little date’) on drinks and food for you both.

You’re not complaining, thinking it’s cute that your strong-brave-sorcerer boyfriend is scared of humans in costumes.

That is until he’s down to only a few bucks, and you both know you can’t avoid the park anymore.

“Megumi, do you want to go back home? We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” y/n whispers in her boyfriend’s ear, pulling him into a secluded alley.

He looks down at her, bringing a soft hand up to her cheek. “Baby, I don’t want to ruin your fun,” he says, genuine guilt in his tone. But she can also sense the anxiety and fear in his touch.

Y/n smiles, putting her hand on the back of his caressing her cheek. “Honey, my night won’t be ruined as long as you’re here with me,” she whispers. “It’s no fun when one of us is having a good time and the other is scared.”

For the first time that night, Megumi smiles, leaning down to kiss y/n’s forehead gratefully.

“Okay, baby…let’s go home and watch that one movie you wanted to—what was it called?”

Y/n’s eyes light up, an enthusiastic sparkle in them.

“Terrifier!”

Megumi’s faces falls a bit, but being scared by a movie on the couch with his girlfriend is way better than being jumpscared by strangers in costumes.

“Yes, that one.”

Special thanks to @gamer-kat for the amazing request!! Hope you enjoyed ml🩷

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enoe-of-noen · 3 months ago

Text

An Mc who has a bad day

☞ Nightbringer timeline (sorry if anything is inaccurate, I forgor)

It had started off as any normal day. Of course, excluding the three times Mc stubbed their toe on their bed. Nor the tripping out the door, face planting on the harsh terrain. Nor getting smacked in the nose by the elbow of a taller demon. Nor the puddle they accidentally stepped in, muddying their uniform. They got a talking to from the eldest born of the sins. Although, that was usual.

Yet the day continued, their bad luck following. Their uniform got caught on a door, embarrassing them as they fell to the ground the second time that day. They fell down the stairs, twitching in anger as Mammon helped them up. They almost passed out when they saw their bag drenched from the one and only avatar of envy. All of their homework…

It was truly awful, they felt exhausted. Luckily, they have comforting company.

Solomon

Living in Cocytus Hall together, he was the first to witness Mc’s terrible, terrible day.

He winced every time Mc physically hurt themselves, offering to heal them.

He was denied each time since Mc said they could take it.

Welp, now he feels horrible.

It seemed every time he looked over to them, another incident happened.

He couldn’t just leave them so helpless to their environment, perhaps a little protective spell could help?

At home, Solomon will offer to cook something good for them. Which was promptly denied.

Solomon allows them to vent, once again offering to heal them with magic if need be.

Letting Mc rest, Solomon uses magic to help clean out their uniform and waterproof their bag. Whatever he could magic-fy to prevent another day like this to happen.

After doing what he could, he joins them in bed, providing his warmth.

Mc admits it was a bad day, but at least they have the one and only Monsolo by their side.

Mammon

Mammon stuck close to his attendant.

After witnessing them tumble almost an entire flight of stairs scared the bejeebers out of him.

He felt like a sad puppy by their side, keeping a keen eye on them.

Even if he couldn’t be by their side physically, Mc could tell whenever a crow was in the area.

Walking home, he frantically looked around for any hazards to Mc.

His brothers laughed at him for sort of switching the roles, but he didn’t care.

Mc found it endearing, brightening their day just enough.

Before Mc left to go back to Cocytus Hall, they thanked Mammon for all his efforts.

It made him blush red.

He wanted to do so much more with them.

He didn’t think a common demon could do so much to him.

And yet, they left to go back to that stupid wizard.

Oh Mc…

Does this feel yandere-coded or is that just me?

He’ll make sure tomorrow, he’ll keep them safe and sound!

Diavolo

Having a meeting with the newly appointed avatars’ attendant, he noticed their dull mood.

Being the considerate prince he was, he asked how their day was.

Mc sighed, setting down their tea cup before spilling it all.

Diavolo’s brows furrowed after hearing accident after accident, physically recoiling when he heard how they fell down a flight of stairs.

He pitied the poor demon, knowing how annoying that could be.

He offered more snacks to ease them and let them relax.

Mc smiled and enjoyed themselves, making small talk with Diavolo.

Mc decided that maybe today wasn’t so bad. They had Diavolo.

And while it may not have been their Diavolo, he was ever the same in both the past and the present.

They thanked him for his time and complimented Barbatos’ baking.

Mc walked home just a little bit happier that evening.

Barbatos

He had noticed Mc’s mishaps throughout the entire day, giving a worried glance.

In small moments, when given the chance, he helped them avoid the incidents or helped them up.

He offered Mc to come over to the palace for a quick snack with Diavolo. Something to relax them.

Mc couldn’t say no to Barbatos, not when he was offering to serve them in such a way.

Barbatos always was and always will be a great cook. There is no denying that.

He offered a protective charm, saying a demon such as Mc would probably do well with it.

Mc appreciated the gesture, wearing it proudly back to Cocytus Hall.

Let’s just say, Soloboy was a tad bit jealous.

Simeon

Oh my, the poor demon.

He squeaked every time he saw Mc, seeing them take a step closer and closer to another accident.

He couldn’t take it and approached them.

He figured they had enough trouble for one day, offering to take them out somewhere nice.

Inconspicuously protecting them with his angelic aura.

Hanging around Simeon, Mc found the day…more manageable.

If they had tripped, Simeon caught them easily.

If they had a worrying gut feeling, it dissipated the instant Simeon smiled at them.

If they had felt their body stiffen instinctively, Simeon provided comfort.

It was…odd.

Why is he acting like a guardian angel to a lowly demon?

Does he perhaps know Mc is a human that needs protecting?

Is it instinct?

After their little date, Simeon dropped Mc off to Cocytus Hall. He smiled as he saw the wizard open the door.

“I decided to take them out for a stroll around, I hope you don’t mind, Solomon.” He smiled at the white haired man.

Solomon smiled back at him, feeling a twinge of jealousy. “Not a problem, Simeon. As long as my little apprentice is safe.”

Simeon raised a brow at that remark. A human caring for a demon was surprising to him.

Although, he couldn’t judge with how he felt for the brothers.

“I’ll be off, good day, Mc.” He smiled gently at them.

Mc didn’t know what to feel in that moment. That wasn’t their Simeon..and yet..

And yet, he was so familiar. He was so reliable. He was so..safe.

Mc needed to lie down, their brain shackled with too many thoughts.

“I miss my Simeon..” was all they could think that night.

Idk what else to do so, maybe part two?

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vrystalius · 3 months ago

Note

I was wondering if you could do a small request. I was thinking of Yoriichi or Kokushibo(it doesn’t matter which one) with an s/o who’s a dragon. Not like a demon just a normal dragon who can turn into a more human like appearance(for the s/o dragon form think of house of the dragon there dragons are what I’m thinking of). How do think he’ll react to seeing his s/o’s dragon form for the first time and going on a flight?(I need this man to be taken on a flight through the clouds🥲)As well as the deep snoring/growling his s/o makes when sleeping?

❕ Having a s/o that can morph into a dragon

Yorichii’s and Kokushibo’s reaction to having a s/o that can morph into a dragon.

Note: Thank you for requesting!! I never watched House of Dragon, so my apologies if I wrote something inaccurate. And yes this is a little more different than I usually write, but I’ll go back to the Sanemi fluff tomorrow. Or angst, who knows? :P

Pairing: Yorichii, Kokushibo x reader

(Here, Yorichii and Uta were only friends. Spoilers for Yorichii’s past)

🧡 Yorichii Tsugikuni 💛

First reaction

Yorichii would feel a deep respect for you the first time he saw you transform into a dragon. Dragons symbolise a connection to incredible power and ancient wisdom, and yet you use it for the good and humanity, and not for Muzan’s search for power. That is something he admired greatly.

He would admire you with soft eyes, recognising the burden you must be carrying with you. Power could be both a curse and a blessing. You have to transform into a human in order to be accepted, to live amongst others and to hide your power. Yorichii was forced to live a life of solitude, thanks to his immense power and but also continues failures (in his eyes). He lost Uta, his brother, and he will loose many more in the future. But Yorichii is incredibly grateful that he has you now, the love of his life, the one he will swear to protect

First flight

When you first suggested to take him on a flight, Yorichii was very hesitant. He can’t imagine himself flying over the clouds and seeing Japan from above. Did anyone ever do that anyway? Would he be the first?

But after talking about your experiences, how pleasant it feels to feel the air around you and how convenient it is to travel from one place to another, Yorichii quietly gave in. Your first flight was to the Kamado family to visit Sumiyoshi and his newborn he has been writing to him about.

While in the air, Yorichii held onto you for dear life. His face appeared stoic and calm, but his death grip told another story. He was leaning down, trying to be as close to you as possible, kind of using you as a shield to not feel as much wind resistance.

After landing, Yorichii had to take a couple breathers before being able to walk as normal. He may be the strongest slayer, but being hundreds, maybe thousands of feet in the air might be too much, for even him.

Snoring and nesting habits

Your snoring is oddly comforting to him. It reminds him that you are right next to him and that you are not going anywhere for tonight. If he has a terrible nightmare or any need for comfort, Yorichii can just turn over and hold onto you. That thought calms him.

He also finds you adorable when you roll into the sheets, constructing some kind of nest. Yorichii would indulge you in your needs and provided you with more pillows and futons and quietly encourage you to keep going.

💜 Kokushibo 💜

First reaction

Kokushibo’s first reaction is envy. Your great power and appearance is intimidating him, as if someone challenged him for his Upper Moon One position. Your power must be great. Is it as great as him though?

But after his first reaction, Kokushibo began to admire you quietly. He would only express it rarely, but he begins to appreciate your strength and abilities and how they could benefit him in his goal to become the strongest. You’re his lover, and you could assist him in the pursuit of perfect skill and power. Also, having such a powerful significant other feels empowering.

First flight

Kokushibo would refuse to fly with you at first. Not that he’s scared- not at all! He’s Upper Moon One, what is he scared off? Nothing.

It took a lot of convincing and talking to make him agree. His usual response would be to silently stare you down until you decided to leave on your own. His silence would be enough of an answer.

Kokushibo needs a good reason to go fly with you, otherwise he’ll flat out refuse.

Tonight you managed to convince him. You offered to fly him to his next mission’s location while Nakime was unavailable. Kokushibo was silent the whole flight, like most of the time, refusing to look down. The infinity fortress he can handle, if he falls into the infinite halls, Nakime would be able to teleport him right back to his chambers. But up here, in the skies and above the clouds, there’s no escaping. Kokushibo proceeds to just dtare at the moon the whole time, trying to be as stable and safe as possible.

Your snoring and nesting habits

He doesn’t mind your snoring or growling. It’s like white noise to Kokushibo, something he can listen to while he meditates.

Your nesting habits may seem childish to him every now and then, but he does enjoy laying and cuddling with you in them from time to time.

💠

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough.

Take care of yourselves <3

#💠 house of vry 💠#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer #kny x reader #demon slayer hashira #fluff #yorichii x reader #kny yorichii #yorichii #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader #yoriichi x reader #yoriichi tsugikuni #kny kokushibo #kokushibou x reader #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo #kokushibou

193 notes · View notes

iiseult · 6 months ago

Text

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝓌𝑜: 𝒜𝓈 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒥𝑒𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓂

CWs → fluff, ANGST, historical inaccuracies, slow burn, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, eventual smut (once reader and baldwin are both over 18), leprosy, time-period accurate sexism, arranged marriage, descriptions of birth (not the reader), blood and mild gore (they don’t call it the dark ages for nothin!), one-sided pining

Wordcount: 5.1k

Note: Remember like three weeks ago when I lied to you all and said I’d have this out in a few days? I had to plan out a bit of the actual plot so that’s what took me so long. But I finally did it, so eat up! Also, I really do NOT know how medieval royal weddings worked but the shallow google searches I made weren’t good enough so let’s all hope this isn’t horribly inaccurate, though I’m sure it is. Do we care, chat?

Every day leading up to the wedding was a day that you saw red. Greeting your traitorous mother in the mornings made you see red, sharing a meal with your power-hungry father made you see red, and listening to the two of them prattle on about how you ought to behave once you were queen? That turned the world absolutely crimson. Each night, you crumpled up and clutched your skirts under the dinner table with shaking fists, creasing them with deep wrinkles that would take days to iron out, but all the while you continued to hold your head high, speaking only when spoken to just as you were taught as a girl. Your strained, thin-lipped smile was only let go of in the privacy of your own bedchambers, when it was replaced with a cold expression and even chillier disposition. Somehow, drifting apart from your family day by day wasn’t as painful as you had imagined it would be. It was easy, really, because there was nothing left for anyone to talk about. After all, your mother had always taught you that if you had nothing nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all. However, your sudden “demureness and obedience”, as they put it, did not go unnoticed.

Your parents were positively delighted with your recent change, or “improvement,” in attitude. Your lady mother congratulated you for finally agreeing to fulfill your societal role as a subservient wife and mother– an aspect of life of which you had previously been a bit resentful– and your father perpetually reminded you how beneficial this marriage would be to the rest of your bloodline. Even your younger brothers seemed excited for you, constantly coming up with new questions to pester you with regarding life as royalty. The only thing keeping you sane was the knowledge that soon you’d be living far, far away from your conniving parents, free to do whatever you wished. Whichever benefits a royal connection brought them would be nothing compared to your own guaranteed lavish lifestyle. You’d soon have your own castle, your own servants, and even your own soldiers! Oh, and the husband, too. You kept forgetting about that part.

In some ways, the fact that he was a leper was a great relief to you. That meant you’d most likely be spared many of the wifely duties you had so been dreading; mainly, consummating the marriage. At your age, only 14 years old yet, there was nothing that interested you about the male body, giving birth, or raising children. It was not so long ago that you had helped raise your own little brothers, and the idea of going through all of that again made you feel so trapped. Not to mention the fact that giving birth was extremely dangerous. And painful. And frightening. That thought caused a memory you had been repressing for years to resurface from the depths of your mind, like a buoy in the ocean. It was the tortured screams of your mother the night your youngest brother was born. Had you not known better, you might have thought she was being ripped in two, and the labor lasted for so many endless, terrible hours, which felt more like days. You remembered the midwives rushing around, and the maids leaving your mother’s room with armful after armful of blood-soaked sheets and sloshing buckets of burgundy water. As they passed the place where you were hugging your knees in the corridor, a drop fell at your feet and sunk slowly into the stone floor, leaving nothing but a small round stain.

Once it was time to leave your family home for the castle, you said goodbye to the view from your window, which you had become well-accustomed to. It was probably the thing you’d miss most, besides your brothers. You closed your bedroom door for the last time and meandered down the familiar, dimly-lit corridor, taking note of the particular stone which was still adorned by that tiny dot of brownish red. A shiver ran down your spine. You opted out of doing a final sweep to make sure you’d packed all of your belongings, because soon enough, you’d have better things to replace them with, anyway. The knights they’d sent for you had loaded your bags onto their horses about an hour ago and set off for your new home. Now, the only thing left to transport was you.

Another knight was waiting for you outside with a large white horse. He watched as you hugged your mother and father stiffly, pretending not to notice your mother’s tears as she kissed you on the forehead like she used to when you were younger. Before you were a lady. Before you were the queen of Jerusalem. Your father said nothing, but his somber expression and the distant look in his eyes and the loose grip he had on your hand as he kissed the top of it told you everything you needed to know. The knight helped you mount the horse and get comfortable sitting behind him, and you waved goodbye to your family as you were carried away, truly intending it to be for everything you had ever known. But whatever sadness you might have been feeling was overpowered by sheer determination. Now, at 14 years old, your life was finally beginning.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The knight who sat in front of you on the horse did not turn out to be a very good conversationalist. The only responses you could draw out of him were along the lines of “Yes, Your Majesty,” or “No, Your Majesty.” You were hoping for someone a bit more…engaging, perhaps, as you were feeling an odd mixture of excitement and anxiety that grew with each and every gallop towards Jerusalem. And anxiety always made you talkative.

“Is it fun at all, being a knight?” You shouted over the clip-clop of the horse’s hooves, breaking the long silence that you had been enduring since the beginning of the journey.

“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”

“You know, protecting the kingdom and such. Isn’t it exciting? I find the idea to be absolutely thrilling! Don’t you think so?”

He paused for a moment, and then replied flatly, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

You pursed your lips, waiting in silence for a few moments, expecting him to elaborate, but no such luck. Was it really so hard to share a gory battle tale or two to pass the time? You knew knights were known for having excellent integrity and virtuousness, meaning they would never say something that could potentially scare a lady, but couldn’t he humor you just this once, while you were alone? But maybe he doesn’t want to talk about it, you thought, imagining how burdensome it must be to know the feeling of cutting someone’s head off. So, you graciously changed the subject and mentally patted yourself on the back for being so kind and just. It simply wouldn’t do, as future queen of Jerusalem, to force sensitive information out of this poor, traumatized knight for your own fleeting amusement. Maybe a few months earlier and it would have been acceptable, but alas. You sighed.

“This noble steed of yours is breathtaking. Does he have a name?” you questioned, admiring the animal’s snow-white pelt, entranced by the way its powerful muscles rippled beneath it.

“I do not know, Majesty. This horse belongs to the king. It is the only one His Majesty trusts, so he instructed me to collect you using it.” Another memory flashed through your mind, this time of your first meeting with your future husband. He had been riding this very horse that day, its stunning color matching that of his robes. Your heart fluttered at the idea that he’d cared so deeply for your safety, although it shouldn’t have surprised you. It was not as if he had parents forcing him into this marriage. He was accepting you in holy matrimony for some other reason, a reason entirely of his own. His own choice. A blush crept up the back of your neck, and you were suddenly thankful for the fact that the knight was facing away from you. You cleared your throat nervously.

“Well, what’s it like, working for the king? Is he nice?”

You felt the knight’s huge sigh before you heard it, your arms that were wrapped around his midsection rising and falling in tandem with the breath.

“Yes, Your Majesty, the king is very…nice.”

“Is that all?” you muttered, rolling your eyes at his reservedness. You got the hint. You understood he didn’t want to talk, that much he had made very apparent, but that was just too damn bad. As queen of Jerusalem, you wanted to get to know your subjects, and who better to start with than the one sharing a horse with you?

“Will I have my own chambers, or shall I share with the king?” You asked, holding back a giggle at the expression you were imagining the knight had on his face.

“I am sure you will be provided with your own chambers, Your Majesty, but the choice of whether to use them or not will be entirely yours and your husband’s,” he replied, a hint of dry humor in his voice. You let out a loud laugh, which actually startled him a little, and then followed it up with another.

“I wonder if he snores!” you said, between giggles. The knight smiled, shaking his head. After that, the journey to Jerusalem was easy.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The next time you laid eyes on the king was when you were getting married, standing opposite each other in an architectural marvel of a cathedral, both dressed in extravagant clothing and expensive jewelry. His silver mask had recently been polished, and it shone beautifully in the sun, but still not as beautifully as his blue eyes. They were as you remembered them, only a bit brighter. His gold-trimmed robes were as white as ever, freshly washed and perfumed for the occasion. Even the gloves on his hands looked new and clean. You admired them as the priest rambled on in front of you. If God was listening right now, you thought, he’d surely be bored to tears. There was one part of the day you had enjoyed, though, which was the preparation for the wedding. You had been doted on by countless maids all morning, lining your eyes with black powder and weaving your hair into an intricate, interlocking braid pattern. The gown was altered to fit you perfectly, and the large, bell-like sleeves fell around your arms like wings. You were finally beginning to feel like a real queen.

The ceremony seemed to drag on forever, but you passed the time by maintaining eye contact with King Baldwin. You drowned out the rest of the world and focused only on him. When you smiled, he smiled back. You could only see the corners of his eyes crinkling, but you knew what that meant. You cocked your head to the side, trying to imagine what his smile really looked like. During that evening you spent with him, you hadn’t gotten the chance to see it. Just as soon as he had taken off the mask, he had to put it back on. The consequences of your parents seeing Baldwin’s face would have been disastrous, but thankfully, their loud footsteps and jovial voices had carried quite well down the corridor, warning you of their arrival. Regardless of how short they were, those few seconds you’d spent admiring his bare face were enough to conjure up a half-formed image of what his smile might look like. However, that image disappeared when you saw him cock his head to the side, too, just as you had. You blinked twice.

He blinked twice, too.

Was he copying you on purpose?

You shifted your feet, and he mirrored you, his robes shimmering like the ocean as they fluttered around him. You bit back a giggle. He was. Flames of mischief danced in his eyes, and something else, too, ignited there when you grinned at him.

“…that these rings shall forever remained blessed, O Merciful Lord. Amen,” said the priest, approaching the king with a book, two rings laid on top of it. Suddenly, Baldwin became very serious, plucking one of the rings between his slender, gloved fingers and holding it gently. You stared as it glistened in the sunlight, which was penetrating the stained glass windows and casting colorful shadows around the altar. He slowly stepped towards you, making your heart begin to beat faster. His head stayed bowed as he presented you with his open palm. You held your breath and lifted your left hand, gingerly brushing your fingertips against his palm, now understanding what was about to happen. He effortlessly glided the ring onto your fourth finger, where it rested beautifully. The diamond glittered like water, mesmerizingly. Baldwin wrapped his fingers around your hand, now holding it as gently as he could, and the priest was now presenting you with a ring. You followed Baldwin’s lead, pushing it onto his fourth finger, which was waiting outstretched for you patiently. You stood mere inches apart, fingers of your left hands interwoven as the priest finished the prayers. The ring, as breathtaking as it was, was somehow still only secondary to the cerulean eyes of your now-husband, which were like two rich sapphires lined with delicate blonde hairs.

“…And may God bless, preserve, and keep you, that you may have life and love everlasting. I pronounce that you now be man and wife together, in the Name of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

The cathedral filled with polite claps and murmurs of “amen” as Baldwin released your hand and you turned to face the pews. Next to you, much to your surprise, he quickly dropped to his knees, his body angled towards you, clasping your fair hand between his. You gazed down at him through your lashes, suddenly feeling your cheeks burn. Boldly, Baldwin drew one hand up to his masked face, grasping it by the nose and swiftly pulling it to the side so that it was hiding his face from the crowd, but revealing it to you. He lifted your hand to his pink lips and pressed a searing kiss to it, liberally letting the physical contact linger, all the while maintaining eye contact with you from under his furrowed brow. You covered your mouth with your other hand to try and hide the toothy grin spreading across your face. He saw it anyway. The next thing you knew, he was grinning, too. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and laughed. He laughed. You realized that you no longer had to imagine what his smile looked like.

After the wedding ceremony, you were promptly bombarded by happy civilians wishing to congratulate you, or simply to catch a glimpse of their new queen, and Baldwin was whisked away by his mother, who seemed to be perpetually by his side. It seemed that she was not quite ready yet to surrender the role of Baldwin’s caretaker to you– but you had no gripes with that. You figured you’d grow into the role of loving, doting wife, as opposed to starting it right away, and unfortunately, the idea of changing his bandages each night before bed still made you shudder. In reality, his mother was not exactly thrilled about the marriage, either. She hadn’t found you or your family quite noble enough for her precious son. However, she was smart enough to see that it was unlikely that anyone else would ever volunteer their daughter to marry a leper, so she begrudgingly allowed the union.

From the crowd, two plainly dressed women had introduced themselves to you as Matilda and Amelia, claiming that they were to be your servants. They would apparently be with you at all times, tending to your every whim and aiding you during your ascent to the throne, as well as bathing you and dressing you. Matilda was an older, more severe woman who had immediately intimidated you; her lips were drawn together thinly and permanently pursed, creating deep wrinkles around her mouth, and the rest of her face was an intricate web of creases and lines. Her graying hair was pulled back tightly, exposing her thinning hairline and sun-spotted forehead. Even her hands looked harsh, the skin rough and dry, cracking in some places, like mud that had been baking under the summer sun for too long. Amelia was quite the opposite; a timid, pretty young thing with wide brown eyes, fair hair, and a delicate frame. She’d barely had the courage to tell you her name, and rushed into the curtsey to avoid having to make eye contact with you for too long. She seemed to be around the same age as you, if not even younger.

After the attendees from the wedding had mostly dispersed, Matilda brought you back inside the castle to finally see your bedchamber, which you were to have all to yourself. She and Amelia led you through winding corridors and beautiful flowering courtyards, pointing out all the most significant landmarks along the way, such as the great hall, the kitchen, the maid’s chambers, the library, the chapel, the towers, the gardens, and the hundreds of guest bedrooms with conjoined washrooms. The last thing she showed you before your own room was the king’s quarters, which were directly across from yours.

“Now, Amelia, go draw us a bath. There’s no need for two of us to be standing around here idly while the Queen inspect her chambers,” she ordered, and Amelia nodded, scurrying away to the washroom silently.

As Matilda threw open the giant oak doors of your room, you couldn’t help but gasp, suddenly rooted to the spot. It was glorious. Taking up the majority of the room was a massive bed with four handsome posts, all carved with intricate floral patterns and stained a deep brown. The mattress was topped with overly-stuffed burgundy throw pillows and a comforter to match. Connecting to the four posts was a frame, from which wine-colored velvet curtains hung to give you some privacy. The same fabric was used to shroud the windows, which were floor-length and leaded. At the foot of the bed lay a pile of bags and wrapped items– all of your belongings from home! On the wall across from them was a large dressing table, covered in jewels and precious metals and bottles of fine-smelling oils. A small, round stool with a cushion on it sat underneath. Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn’t help but abandon Matilda in the doorway, running and throwing yourself face-first onto the bed, just like you used to at home. You giggled and kicked your feet up into the air, unsurprisingly beginning to sink into the plush mattress. Immediately, you felt your body melt against the malleable, pillowy surface, deciding that you definitely approved of its fine quality. Your bed from back home simply couldn’t compare. However, your glee was short-lived, because it was abruptly interrupted by a stern voice.

“Your Majesty! You must cease this behavior at once and right yourself! That wedding gown is priceless, and you mustn’t risk causing it any damage!” Matilda scolded, pulling you up by the arm and frantically kneeling to check the delicate garment for any possible tears or imperfections. You winced and apologized quietly, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your juvenile behavior. She was right. As a matter of fact, most things in the palace were probably priceless, and it wouldn’t do to act so impulsively, to be so unladylike. Even you, in your youth, knew better than that. You crossed your arms over your chest, beginning to feel rather insecure upon realizing just how much you had to learn about life as royalty.

“Come, child, it is time to undress. You must be bathed and prepared for your wedding night,” Matilda called, holding out a hand, her voice much more soft and gentle this time.

You gulped, not wanting to think about that, preferring to cross that bridge when you got to it. She bustled over to the magnificent dressing table, pulling out the stool for you to sit on. You obliged, seating yourself in front of her and watching in the mirror as her spindly fingers deftly unwound your intricate braids. It was relaxing, the feeling of her experienced hands nimbly dancing around your scalp, so you let the buildup of tension from the day slowly seep out of your muscles, loosening up more and more every second that passed. Soon, she was finished, and helped you to your feet, ordering you to keep your arms out straight as she undressed you. She pulled out pins from here and there, untied laces all around, and in a matter of minutes you were ready for your bath.

The water was warm and steaming as you stepped in, your skin breaking out into goosebumps at the feeling. Rose petals floated across the surface of the water, giving the entire washroom a fresh scent. As you expected, Amelia was waiting for you silently, brush in hand, ready to scrub you vigorously from head to toe. You braced yourself, expecting the rough bristles to be painful, but once she began working attentively, it wasn’t so bad at all. Yes, they were scratchy, but that’s exactly what you needed to get rid of all the dirt and dead skin. She lathered you in delicate smelling soap and added some more fragrant oils to the water, letting you soak until your skin had absorbed all the moisture it possibly could. Not a single inch of you was neglected by the time the water had grown cold, at which point you got out and were dried with a fluffy white towel.

Next, you were ushered back into your chambers and changed into a pretty blue gown made of satin, which apparently “complimented the color of the kings’ eyes perfectly,” according to Matilda. You felt your gut twist at the mention of him, at the prospect of being alone in a room with him and that piercing gaze again. Now that you were man and wife, everything was different. You had a duty to fulfill, and it seemed to be unavoidable, despite how young and vulnerable you were. Despite how averse to it you might be. Your mother had told you all about it, about how it would only last a few minutes if you were lucky, and that you just had to breathe deeply and count the seconds until it was over. How it happened to every woman at some point in her life, and that what follows would be completely and utterly worth every second of endurance. How rewarding it was to raise a child, or two children, or as many as your womb could bear. But no matter how much you tried to reassure yourself, you were still scared. You didn’t want that yet. You were only 14.

But before attending to your marital duties, first, there was dinner. You were seated at the complete opposite end of the table as Baldwin, as far as physically possible away from him, despite the fact that he was the only person there you had ever spoken to. You were too far away to be able to tell if he was even looking at you from under his mask. Next to him was his mother, who proceeded to shoot you sideways glances the entire night. The rest of the table was filled with noble men and women whom you did not recognize, their titles unfamiliar to you and the lands they hailed from even more obscure. You picked at your food and tried to stay as silent as possible to avoid making a mockery of yourself on your first night as Queen of Jerusalem. Sooner than you had hoped, dinner had concluded, and you were taken aside by Matilda, who pulled you into an empty corridor as the guests began filtering out of the castle.

“Child, do you know what is expected of you on your wedding night?” She asked, her voice low so that nobody except the two of you could hear the subject matter at hand. You took a deep breath and straightened you back in an attempt to appear more mature, before replying,

“Yes, I will lie down and be still and hope that I am blessed with a child.”

The woman smiled at you and clasped your shoulder, seemingly approving of your answer.

“Exactly right, my dear. The king will call on you when he is ready, so you may go back to your room and occupy your time with an activity of your choosing until you are collected.”

You nodded solemnly and thanked her before slowly making your way back to your room, trying to take as long as possible in an attempt to actually slow down time. Upon deeper reflection during this walk, you came to the conclusion that it was not being alone with the king that you were afraid of, but rather the act of consummating the marriage, which was, of course, something he had every right to do with you that night. It was the correct course of action. It was what all newlyweds did, no matter how young and afraid they were. Did he know what he was doing, you wondered, or was he just as oblivious as you? You couldn’t imagine the young king being oblivious about much of anything, in all honesty. He was far too intelligent– something you had seen for yourself over that game of chess.

Once you arrived at your room, Amelia was waiting at the door for you, an even more wide-eyed look on her face than usual. Uh oh, you thought to yourself.

“His Majesty the King has requested your presence in his chambers, Your Highness,” she said quietly, bowing her head as she spoke. How did he get here so fast? You thought to yourself, terror rising in your chest. Amelia watched in half fear and half amusement as you frantically wiped your clammy hands on the bodice of your dress and ran your fingers through your hair, which was cascading down your shoulders freely. She was young, too, and unwed, and the idea of a wedding night was something that made her stomach churn as well, so she offered you a sympathetic look and watched as you dragged your feet across the hall, knocking on the imposing oak doors of the king’s bedchambers.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin had never been so jittery in his life. As he sat on the edge of his bed, waiting for you to arrive, he fidgeted with his gloves, pulling them off by the fingers and then pulling them on again, over and over. All throughout dinner he had been gazing across the table at you, ignoring his mother’s neverending ranting as you stared down at your plate. Though you were only a blue blur with a vaguely maidenlike shape from where he was sitting, he was still completely enchanted, his heart beating in his throat every time you looked up in his general direction. He wondered if you could tell he was looking at you. Since the hour you were wed, he was able to think of nothing but you; your dazzling smile, your gorgeous hair, your playful sense of humor, the way the light in the cathedral illuminated your eyes. As the servants bathed him in strong-smelling medicinal herbs and wrapped the raw areas of skin with fresh bandages, he daydreamed about your voice, your laugh. And now, as he sat on the edge of his bed, awaiting your imminent arrival, he thought of practically everything except you.

He panicked about the state of his body, the pressure of consummating a marriage, the burden of fathering a child at such a young age. He panicked about the weight of ruling an entire kingdom all by himself, no longer able to entrust the brunt of the work to Raymond, and of being a suitable husband. He panicked about how many years he might even have left, if his illness continued to progress. But every worry, every fear, every doubt left his mind as soon as he heard you knock on his door.

He leapt to his feet, hastily pulling his left glove all the way back on and bounding over to the door, throwing it open wide with a grin on his face, to reveal… you, standing there, gaunt and sweating, looking like you had just suffered a bout of cholera. The smile on his face fell a bit, but it couldn’t be wiped completely clean. At least he could finally be with his bride, his love, his queen.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you murmured, your head bowed, pointing down at your shoes, as well as the freshly polished ones directly across from you.

“Good evening, my Queen,” he breathed, heart beating quickly as you shuffled into his room. He closed the door behind you, letting it shut with a ‘click’ before following you over to the middle of the room, where you hovered like a ghost, still staring at the ground and clasping your hands tightly in front of you. A tense, silent moment passed, and still, you didn't move. Whatever was left of his smile faded from his unmasked face, and the panic from earlier began to return, crashing over him in icy waves. Why wouldn’t you look at him? He cleared his throat, shifting his weight from leg to leg.

“Are you feeling very well tonight, my lady?” He asked tentatively, shuffling a bit closer.

You sucked in a sharp breath and suddenly turned, stiltedly making your way over to the bed.

“Let’s just get this started then, shall we?” You said tersely, laying down on your back on the plush covers and screwing your eyes shut tightly.

“I am ready.”

King Baldwin stared at you blankly, frozen in the middle of the room, and completely panicking. No, no, no, this was all wrong, this was not how he wanted it to go…he absolutely did not want to force you into it, to do anything you didn’t also want…and you clearly didn't want it. You were lying there, as stiff as a board. This was the final straw for him.

He wasn’t ready for it yet either, he decided. He would just have to lie to his mother. When she discovered that the queen was, in fact, not pregnant, he would blame it on his own body, claiming to be infertile. It was probably true, at any rate. He took a deep breath, feeling shame and embarrassment at not being able to consummate his own marriage rise to his cheeks, and spoke three words,

“You may go,”

And those were the last three words he spoke to you for the next three years.

Note: I'll give you a kiss if you can count how many times I reference you being the "Queen of Jerusalem" in this chapter.

#baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #king baldwin iv x reader #baldwin iv one shot #baldwin of jerusalem #highnoonsunlight #baldwin iv fic #slow burn #one sided pining #wedding night

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juqtier · 5 months ago

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₊˚╰ 𖣠 MERCY ✧.* SPENCER REID

SUMMARY: During one of the most detrimental and devastating outbreaks this world has ever seen, the BAU had spent countless hours trying to bring in the man responsible, dead or alive. When they seek help from a minacious mercenary, and personal feelings somehow get involved, the situation quickly becomes much more complicated and difficult than anticipated.

GENERAL WARNING: ANGSTY and horror (somewhat), weapons, violence, descriptions of viruses and diseases, death, kissing of course, zombie like creatures, apocalypse, outbreak, descriptions of mutations

CHAPTER WARNING: descriptions of violence and viruses, reader is kinda an asshole. THIS CHAPTER MAY SEEM BORING BUT PLS the story will get interesting as it progresses! just gotta explain the basic concept!

A/N: the first chapter, yay! this is clearly inspired by resident evil (my fav game series). i thought it’d be interesting and unique to combine my two fav hyperfixations. i made the virus names and effects, and im clearly not a scientist so if they are scientifically inaccurate ignore it or im gonna cry. also, I wrote this with early spencer in mind (3-5) but if you imagine him from a different season lmk! ALSO sorry if any of the writing is bad, my english is terrible!

ACCOMPANYING SONG : SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT, NIRVANA

. . .

CHAPTER 1

January 15th, 2009

- 985 days since the outbreak

You had been caught. You had finally been caught.

Of course, you were well aware of the risks that came with being a mercenary, being caught was one of them. Yet, this didn’t diminish the anger you felt, sitting in a dingy, dark interrogation room, cuffed to a table.

It felt as if days passed by. Your eyelids felt heavy, you couldn’t manage to find a comfortable position to rest in. A metal folding chair would quickly prove to be a poor place to even attempt to relax in. Sitting in silence for so long, your ears could perfectly hear the buzzing of the flickering bulb above you, and it drove you crazy.

Just before you could drive yourself insane, focusing on each bothersome aspect of the interrogation room once more, the door opened.

Two men, two entirely different vibes.

One was an older, tall, stoic man wearing a suit practically devoid of color.

And while the man that stood beside him wasn’t wearing the most colorful outfit, his blue shirt and purple tie were a stark contrast to the other man’s outfit.

His long, wavy brown hair stood out as well. A part of you wanted to just stare at him, he was so pretty. But the other part of you, the majority of you, wanted to knock both officers unconscious and attempt to run away.

“I’m Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, this is Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid. We’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” The older man explained as both of them took a seat across from you.

The words practically went unnoticed by you, your mind had been more focused on the discomfort caused by the tight cuffs around your wrists. Your eyes met Hotchner's, and he could tell exactly what you were feeling.

Angry.

“Wanna take these cuffs off?” You request.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that until you cooperate with us and give us the information we need.”

“What information?”

Your eyes naturally rolled, gradually growing more annoyed by the second. Even with how frustrated you were, you weren’t going to cooperate easily. You were a mercenary, and the FBI was well aware you had only ever been motivated by payment.

It sounded selfish to everyone else. It was selfish, but to you, it was the only way to survive.

Hotch extracts papers and files from a manila folder, spreading them out onto the table in front of you. Your eyes watched his hands as he displayed each paper for you.

“For the past seven months, me and my team have been observing your every move.” Hotch’s eyes are glued to you. “Several times in these past months, you’ve been employed by Luca Ansaldo.”

The name has been drilled into your ears by this point.

Luca Ansaldo, a wealthy, ‘brillitant’ virologist and CEO of the virology company SynX. And, unbeknownst to you, the creator of the Lazarus Virus.

Ansaldo had employed you many times before, and with the pay being more than generous for a seemingly easy job, you didn’t think twice about accepting his offer.

But now, just hearing his name was enough to enrage you. Yet, you remain calm, returning Hotch’s eye contact. You barely even noticed Reid beside him, merely observing the interaction between you and Hotch.

“He paid me well for a simple job, is that what you wanted to hear?” You mutter.

You knew that wasn’t what they wanted to hear, but you also couldn’t tell what they wanted.

The past officers that had come in, aggressively interrogating you, never made it clear what exactly they wanted from you. All you could really understand was that they wanted his whereabouts, and you couldn’t tell them that. You didn’t even know.

“What jobs did he pay you for?” Hotch inquires.

“Easy jobs. I’ve done that plenty of times before for others, why does it matter now?”

Hotchner adjusts in his seat, probably finding it just as uncomfortable as you were in that moment.

“It’s important because we’re not currently after the other individuals you’ve worked for, we’re after Ansaldo.” He explains, sliding a document toward you.

Your eyes quickly scan the words on the paper, taking in all of its details.

“Under SynX, Ansaldo has managed to manufacture one of the deadliest viruses known to man, the Lazarus virus. You can see the results of his work walking in the streets.”

“Lazarus Virus?” You question. “Like, from the Bible?”

You clearly knew about the outbreak, every human did. You just had never been able to put a name to the virus responsible.

Reid took this question as an opportunity to share every bit of knowledge he had about the virus.

“Yes, actually. The name derives from Lazarus of Bethany, mentioned in the Gospel of John. The story claims Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, only four days after his death.” He hadn’t even noticed your eyes locked on him as he rambled. “We believe the virus attacks the brain stem, destroying the brain's basic functions. However, while mental capabilities deteriorate, physical capabilities are enhanced, explaining why they’re rather strong and violent. Those infected by the virus are called ‘Revenants’.”

You couldn’t help but be impressed at his ability to speak for so long without even losing his breath. He had spit out each word with urgency, as if he had been waiting to share this information with you.

“You seem to know a lot about the virus, why am I here?”

“We don’t know enough.” Hotch replies. “Without a sample of the virus, we won’t be able to produce an effective antidote. Ansaldo is currently the only man we know of that has any samples, and you know more about him than any of us. You may be our only chance at finding him before it’s too late.”

He leans forward, an even more intense stare accompanying his statement.

For a moment, for a brief moment, you allow yourself to absorb his words. It was as if a switch flipped in your brain, allowing yourself to prioritize others before yourself.

And again, this sounded so incredibly selfish. You could recognize that, of course. But you couldn’t blame yourself. And quite frankly, neither could Hotch or Reid.

The outbreak was and is devastating. Major cities were overrun and filled with chaos, with millions dead or missing. Trusting people wasn’t as common as it was years ago. Especially for you. You had been alone, fighting to survive, for years. It was all to protect yourself. You had the right to protect yourself, right?

“How much?” Hotch’s words bring your attention back to him, back to the situation you were in.

You weren’t sure if you misheard or misunderstood him, and it seemed as if Reid shared that same thought. His eyes widened as he snapped his head towards Hotch, questioning him with his eyes. Hotch, however, doesn’t even seem to notice Reid’s shock.

“What?” You stutter just a bit, clearly confused.

“How much do we need to pay you for your cooperation?” He repeats.

“You want to pay me to work for you?” You reply, skeptical about the offer.

Reid visibly shared the same sentiment. It was as if he couldn’t close his mouth. You didn't expect this, and neither did he.

“You are the closest connection we have to Ansaldo.” Hotch ignores the shocked faces of you and Reid, “If we have to pay you for your cooperation, then we are willing to do that.”

His expression shows that he’s serious. You consider the offer a bit longer before spitting out the first number you can think of.

“Two hundred thousand.”

You wait for any change in his expression, you wait for him to simply refuse. But he never does.

“We can arrange that.” He gives you a small nod before rising from his chair, Reid following. “I will assign an agent to keep an eye on you. You will be kept under supervision at all times as you work alongside my team. If you even attempt to betray our agreement, I promise you will not see a single dollar.”

“Wait.” You blurt out before they can even make their way to the door. “Can I choose what agent gets to follow me around?”

The way you word it makes it sound like a privilege, like it was an honor to have to watch over you. In reality, it most likely wasn’t.

The FBI considered you a dangerous, difficult mercenary. Asking you for help was a last resort, one they tried to avoid. But as they watched the virus spread across the country, unable to stop it, they knew they had no other choice.

“Do you have an agent in mind?” Hotch raises an eyebrow, confused by your question.

You nod in response, your eyes landing on Reid.

You couldn’t explain why, but his quiet, shy demeanor drew you to him. He wasn’t standoffish like the other officers and agents, he was actually quite the opposite of you.

Reid furrows his eyebrows. Neither he nor Hotch had expected the request; their looks expressed that. Hotch looks over at Reid, as if he were contemplating whether he could handle such a job. It was a silent conversation between the two; you were just an observer in that moment.

“Reid will watch over you as you work the case with us.” Hotch proclaims.

“Hotch, are you sure?” Reid whispers, just loud enough for you to hear him. He sounds nervous as he speaks, causing you to smirk.

“If she causes any problems for you, I will assign a different agent for the job.” Hotch responds, going for the door. His hand lands on the door knob, twisting it and pulling the door open with Reid behind him.

“Can you take these cuffs off me?”

Hotch and Reid turn their attention towards you once again before Reid digs in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. Hotch watches as Reid walks over to you.

Your gaze remained fixed on Reid as he fumbled with the keys. You observed his shakey hands, finding all of it almost humorous.

When he finally managed to remove the cuffs, he let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in.

You stand up from your seat, rubbing your wrists where the cuffs had previously been.

“Thank you so much.” You say with a teasing, playful tone.

His eyes never meet yours as he steps back, allowing you to stretch, glad to be free from the metal chair you were held down to.

“The team is gathering to discuss our next steps in the case. You’ll be joining us, since you’re working alongside us now.”

He explains the situation quickly as he leads you out of the room, still avoiding any eye contact.

“Exciting.” A smirk was still plastered on your face as you walked behind Reid.

While Reid was more nervous about the situation, and you clearly found it amusing, there was one thing the two of you had in common at the moment.

You had no idea what you were getting into.

. . .

pt. 2

a.n. : again sorry if the writing is bad, but i’m excited for this series to play out! it’s a concept i haven’t seen done before so i wanted to make something cool with it! i believe even if you aren’t a fan of resident evil, criminal minds x mercenary is still kinda cool. also, if you want to be on tag list im more than happy to add you!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #juqtier writes… 🐈

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qqueenofhades · 1 year ago

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All jokes aside, Americans do owe a seismic debt of gratitude to Jack Smith, especially if it is true (as has been reported) that the DOJ initially slow-walked or stonewalled the investigation into Trump himself (at least until the J6 Committee). He was only appointed to the job last year, and he's already secured indictments for two separate sets of federal crimes, in two different (and wildly politically different) jurisdictions, with felony charges numbering in the dozens. These charges include espionage, conspiracy, obstruction, etc -- aka all the things we saw Trump do in real time, but have been relentlessly brainwashed ever since to try to make us forget that he did.

So it's just... Nice that our collective trauma of 2016-2020 has been legally validated, yknow? That grand juries of private citizens in both DC and Florida, when they actually have to look at the (overwhelming) evidence, do really, empirically agree that the son of a bitch is in fact really fucking guilty. These indictments were not easy to get, we should and must thank Jack Smith for working at speed to get them, and now especially with the trial in DC being assigned to an Obama appointee who won't favor Trump endlessly like Cannon in Florida, there is actually a real chance he goes on trial before November 2024. And while we don't know what will happen, there's no reason to think that Smith and his team will stumble at the last hurdle and somehow fail to secure a conviction. That, especially considering the magnitude of the threats and MAGA rage he has been faced with, takes considerable courage.

And that, all reflexive Dooming and Glooming and endless (and at this point, profoundly inaccurate) moaning that Trump will never see an actual systemic repercussion quite aside, means something. We will still have to deal with his crazed fascist followers, but it's been a string of three high-profile indictments now and nary a peep, far less the promised rioting in the streets. It's almost like bullies are cowards and fold when you challenge them, and that we might actually get through this terrible, terrible time by the skin of our teeth and still have a democracy, however flawed, in the future. And I don't know about you, but I think that is, and remains, incredibly fucking important.

#hilary for ts #politics for ts #the giant orange monster

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adventuringblind · 11 months ago

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Fair Play

Oscar Piastri x Reader x Logan Sargent x Liam Lawson

Genre: fluff and crack (Look! I can write fluff!)

Summary: The quartet try to have a fun night out which lands them a trip to the emergency room.

Warnings: a hospital trip and Liam being an absolute menace

Notes: For @bad268, I hope you like it! I would like to point out that I've been to maybe two fairs in my life so this might be inaccurate.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Going to a fair is not something the group gets to do often. The racing season keeps them all busy. The quiet moments are few and far between.

But it's summer break, and they have time to indulge themselves for a night. A nice relaxing night to forget about things and just enjoy each other's company. Like nothing could possibly go wrong.

How wrong they were.

"Haven't been to one of these in forever." Logan pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The colder air of the night breeze ruffling his hair.

Oscar, determined to stay in his eternal summer, is in his usual attire. "Have any of us ever been?"

"I've been a couple of times when I was younger." Says the female. Liam is spinning her around as they attempt to walk forward. "I was terrible at all the games and never won anything, though."

The three boys stop in their tracks. There is a playful smirk on each of their faces. "I swear, if you three make this a competition, I will lose it."

Liam drops his mouth open in feigned exasperation. "What if the intent is to be corny and win you a prize or something!"

"Well then, that's fine. I won't say no to being spoiled."

Liam hands her off to Logan as they make their way inside. The American is the gentlest of the three. He always makes himself available for comforting hugs.

The boy's beeline straight to where the games are. Not even sparing a glance in the direction of anything else. Typical competitive spirits. Three weeks with no racing means they have to get it out somehow.

She looks at Oscar in a desperate attempt to get his attention. Liam and Logan have launched themselves into another game and are not currently paying attention.

"What do you say to ice-cream, Osc?"

"I say lovely."

The two signal to the other boys and say they'll be back. Already wrapped up in their activity, they pay them no mind. Liam is gesturing wildly with his hands. A good indicator they won't notice they are even leaving.

"I feel like this is a bad idea."

"What is?"

"Leaving them on their own."

Liam and Logan are staring down some kind of bebe riffle shooter game. Not because of the game itself, but because of the prize they could potentially win.

The massive teddy bear sits behind the counter, taunting them. It's begging to be in the arms of another. Specifically, in the arms of their girl. It's begging to be cuddled by her.

"This should be easy for you, Lo!" Liam snickers and takes up a spot. "Being American and all."

Logan rolls his eyes, face completely blank. "Yes Liam, your over used joke is so funny and I'm laughing so hard." He can't keep the straight face for long and both boys end up laughing at themselves.

Liam picks up the rifle and is instructed to take a test shot. He attempts, with nothing to show for it. Logan descends further into laughter.

"Would you like a hand from someone who knows guns?" Liam groans as Logan takes a step forward.

"Maybe it's jammed-"

The plastic gun makes a clicking sound. Logan lets out a yelp and clutches his wrist. "Liam..."

"Logan, listen, we can talk this out!"

"You asshole! You shot me!"

In the distance, the other half is carrying back ice-cream for them. The sudden yelp causes the female to startle and nearly drop the two cones she is holding.

Oscar is somewhere between a laugh and a pained sigh. "I told you it was a bad idea."

She takes another lick from her ice-cream and look directly into Oscar's eyes. "I regret nothing."

Liam is trying desperately to fight back a laugh as the group converges together.

The female ditches her ice-cream in Liams hands and inspects Logans wrist. "You hurt the baby, Liam! How could you?”

“Y/n, he’s the oldest.”

“Doesn’t matter! Liam hurt the baby.” She begins to walk away with the boys in tow. “We’re heading to emergency because I don’t feel like hearing about this from Alex if Logan is hurt.”

Liam is trying to drive while Oscar sits passenger side still holding ice-cream. It’s dripping down his fingers at this point. An entertaining sigh to the two in the back.

Liam looks over at a red light, leans in obnoxiously close, and wiggles his eyebrows. “Hey Osc, can I lick it off your fingers?”

“Liam, I swear to god-“

The light turns green and Liam is once again speeding off to the nearest A&E.

The wait inside is long enough for them to actually finish the melting treat. People give them weird looks, but they are wrapped up in their own little bubble and couldn’t care less.

The nurses all giggle as they retell the story of what happened. The injury is hardly serious, but they wrap it all nice anyway. They ask if Logan would like a band aid at one point and he just groans (he whispered yes right before they left).

“You realize nobody is ever going to believe us, right?” Oscar looks towards Logan’s hand with raised eyebrows.

Logan groans again. “Do they have to? Could be our secret.”

As the female lifts Logan’s hand to her mouth to ‘kiss it better’, she leans over to whisper to him. “I don’t we can hide this one, babe. You have a crayon band-aid on.”

“Yeah, no, I’m telling everyone about this.”

“It was your fault!”

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mimicofmodes · 24 days ago

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I saw a post going around about costube historians analyzing period film costumes for accuracy and it kind of got under my skin, so I'm sitting down and writing ... not exactly a response to it, but a discussion of the topic.

(It would be a direct response except that I don't actually watch costube, because quite frankly I can't watch/listen to people discuss things I already know. And I don't want to be like "they don't do X!" when maybe they really do X and I'm just not aware. But a lot of the complaints hit the same points that have been brought up against fashion historians for reviewing costumes for decades. I would also note that I have looked into specific videos where there were claims of terrible costuber behavior and watched them and found nothing.)

If you're going to analyze a period film's costuming in any way, you should still interact with the historical aspect to some degree. If you want to talk about the use of bold stripes in Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow, for instance, and you don't mention that they were in style during the period the film appears to be set in, it's kind of weird.

Likewise, yes, if you're critiquing primarily from the angle of historical accuracy, you should also engage to at least some extent with the reasoning behind the inaccuracy. If a reviewer doesn't do so at all, then yes, their review is probably not as good as it could be.

People pointing out an inaccuracy (or many inaccuracies) are not inherently scolding the costume designer. Even if their tone is something other than sweet. Sometimes they are scolding other people involved in the production, like the director who mandated a particular costume, or just a general notion of TPTB. Usually they are divorcing the art from the artist, though, and just reviewing the costuming from their particular viewpoint and knowledge base for a likeminded audience.

Sometimes, yes, they are complaining directly about the costume designer. This is not a crime. Some costume designers (for instance, Sandy Powell) have an incredible grasp on fashion history and excellent taste when it comes to diverging from it. Others simply don't have as in-depth of an understanding and make design decisions sometimes based on stereotypes and myths. Some costume designers will explain their decisions in interviews or blog posts and make it clear that they didn't make a truly informed decision about accuracy because they didn't know enough about the period. It's important for both sides of the equation to stop painting the other with too broad of a brush ("ivory-tower elitists who have no idea of a production's needs or budget" vs. "costumers who know how to sew but not how to do historical research").

If you're allowed to complain about a writer or a director or an actor doing something you don't like in a movie, you're also allowed to complain about a costume designer. You're allowed to have aesthetic preferences, and even to talk about them without hedging every five seconds to make it clear that others can disagree, although some of this is beneficial with any critique. Why would it be otherwise?

This seems really obvious to me, but maybe it's not? But "they costumed that female actor in an anachronistically sexy way because sex sells" is a feminist issue. The assumption that women's bodies should be sites of less-clothed allure while men's should attract by being more covered (with more layers than in modern dress, with cravats, etc.) is sexist. Complaints about female characters being costumed inaccurately are often being made along these lines, and pointing out that the producers insisted on it or something does not mean it's suddenly unproblematic that every female character deemed fuckable has to have low necklines at all times and modern shiny hair.

It's true that fiction isn't non-fiction and shouldn't be taken that way, but it's also demonstrably true that viewers do take cliches in film aesthetics as accurate when they see them enough times. People cite Scarlett O'Hara's 18" waist. They believe there were no bright colors before the 1920s and that women couldn't have put their hair up unless they were wealthy. These beliefs have consequences when it comes to public perceptions of history, and if films perpetuate them it's perfectly reasonable to point out that they support ideas about e.g. gender roles that trads express today.

It's also simply funny when a film's hair or costuming or makeup is supposed to evoke a lack of artifice but actually requires quite a bit of artifice because people don't naturally have perfect hair and skin and so on.

If you don't like reviews of period films that focus on the accuracy of the costuming, maybe ... don't watch/read reviews by fashion historians and historical costumers? At least unless they're vetted for you by someone who doesn't mind that?

#fashion history #historical fashion #costube #the original post I saw made me want to write a dozen reviews solely about the accuracy of costuming

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callsign-dexter · 1 year ago

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Heartbeat Promise

Request: Aw yaaay 😊 I just wanted to make sure before requesting 🥰 it would be an idea with Connor, where you're dating but recently didn't have much time together due to your work (you're a nurse in the ER). So you also barely talk at the moment and you don't tell him about some chest pain you recently have, as you don't want to put more worries on his plate. One time during your shift you pass out as the pain gets too much and Maggie immediately pages Connor. He's more than worried and feels terrible for not noticing how you feel. So he stays by your side all the time and when you wake up he apologizes for not being there and promises to work on spending more time together and that he'll be there whenever you need him. I hope this is ok 💕

Pairings: Connor Rhodes x Nurse!Halstead!Reader

Warnings: chest pain, inaccurate medical talk, fluff, angst

Masterlist

It wasn't like you weren't going to tell your extremely handsome, smart, overprotective, and doctor boyfriend, aka Connor Rhodes, that you were having chest pains. You were honestly. Well eventually. With both of your schedules being super busy and one or both of you pulling double shifts. He has been stressed out by the number of difficult surgeries and overbearing patients that you didn't want to add anymore onto his plate, so you kept quiet. It got worse when you took a deep breath so you kept your breaths short.

You have been dating for 2 years now and you both were very in love with one another. Recently you two barely have time to talk with each other. Your routine was the same but shortened drastically. Before you would come home cuddle for a little bit, eat dinner, talk about work, watch a movie or TV show, take a shower together, get ready for bed, and once in bed cuddle so more until you're asleep. Now it's come home put dinner on before he got home and then you go take a shower and eat and start getting ready for bed and then up before he even got up. It just wasn't the same and you missed it and you could tell he was missing it too. You were just too tired most of the time.

You would catch him giving you longing looks but then you would start doing something else. Since you two haven't been spending much time together, despite you both living under the same roof, he didn't catch you holding your chest, when your breath caught, or you just being out of breath doing simple things.

Every day it was getting worse and every day you didn't tell him. You felt guilty but you didn't want to burden him and when you were at work you hardly see each other. You tried to keep it to yourself but you worked with other nurses and doctors. One particular doctor noticed you having some problems, that doctor would be none other than Dr. William Halstead, aka your twin brother.

You and Will were truly inseparable even with him being a millisecond older which he likes to brag about it. You and your younger brother, Jay Halstead were also inseparable but not like you and Will. Will would notice you wince every now and then, especially when picking something heavy up, and he noticed that you seem to run out of breath but each time he asked you about it, you just told him fine and left the conversation. You didn't want to tell him because then he would be telling Connor and that's the last thing you wanted.

You were in the break room for a break when Will decided to confront you. "Y/N are you ok?" He asked you as you were getting your water bottle. You turned to look at him.

"I'm fine. What makes you think there is something wrong?" You asked back as your breath caught in your throat.

"You just seem in pain." He said almost going into big brother, by a millisecond, doctor mode but you shook your head and waved him off.

"I'm fine Will." You said as you set down ready to eat a little bit of something and have a break from being on your feet for 9 hours into your 24-hour shift.

"If you need anything, you can come to me. You know that right?" He asked you and you nodded your head.

"Yes, I know that." You said and smiled at him. "Are we still on for drinks tonight tomorrow tonight with Jay?" You asked him. It was 3 PM on a Friday, you, your brothers, and Connor had arranged for you all to go out to Molly's for drinks every Saturday if your work permitted it.

"As of right now, yes we are. So, how are you and the love of your life doing these days?" He asked and you sighed which was a big mistake because when you did a pain shot through your chest. Will looked at you concerned but you didn't acknowledge it.

"We're fine. I think." You paused and thought "We haven't been spending much time or talked much as we used to with our busy schedules." You told him and he nodded feeling bad for you. Your watch beeped meaning your break was over. "Well, it looks like my break is over brother. I'll see you later." You said and stood up and instantly got dizzy you grabbed the table loudly and Will took notice and got up steadying you.

"Y/N/N are you sure you're fine?" He asked you and you nodded the dizziness and pain going away.

"I'm fine." You said breathlessly and composed yourself and walked out of the break room leaving with a concerned brother behind. You walked over to the front desk where Maggie was.

"How's my favorite Halstead sibling and nurse doing?" She asked you and you raised an eyebrow looking at her.

"I'm fine..... what do you need?" You asked her fighting through the pain trying not to let weakness show.

"There is a patient in Trauma 2 that needs a consult." She said and you looked at her with the same look.

"Why couldn't anyone else do it?" You asked her.

"Because you're my best nurse and nobody else wanted to take them." She said and you raised eyebrow turned into a glare, playful.

"Fine. You owe me." You said and she nodded

"Thank you so much!" She said and handed you the tablet. You walked into Trauma 2 and found a middle-aged, tall, blonde, and blue-eyed man.

"Hello, Mr. Coal. I'm Nurse Halstead. What seems to be the problem?" You asked him and looked up at him just to see him looking and smiling at you.

"Nothing now that you're here." He said and your refrained from rolling your eyes. Blood pressure skyrockets causing your chest to hurt. Oh, how you wish Connor was here with you.

"It says here that, you came in for some tenderness in the lower right side of your abdomen. Is that correct?" You asked him and he nodded his head getting that your weren't going to flirt back.

"Yes. It started 2 days ago around noon. I thought it was just something bad I ate but it just started to get worse." He said and you nodded your head and typed it into the tablet. You paused and took a deep breath which made your chest hurt and he looked at you in concern. "Are you ok ma'am?" He asked and you nodded your head.

"I'm fine. This is about you." You said with a smile and he nodded "I'm going to have a listen to you and get some vitals." You told him and he nodded. You did just that and he was very cooperative and polite. You entered your results into the tablet. "I'm just going to feel around on your stomach. So please lie back." You told him and he did as told. You started to feel around and asked him if he felt any pain and when you got to the right side and pressed down he groaned out in pain and you let up. You typed in the results and nodded. "I think you have appendicitis but I want to confirm with a doctor. So please be patient and I'll be back with you shortly." You said and he nodded. You walked out and to the front desk. Maggie was there "Hey Maggie can you page Dr. Halstead for me? My pager stopped working and I haven't had time to get a new one. I want a confirmation on a consult." She nodded while you typed in more details on the tablet.

A few minutes went by and your brother walked over to you. "Maggie paged me. What's up?" He asked you.

"There is a patient in Trauma 2 and I believe he has appendicitis." You said almost out of breath maybe it was just tiredness, to be fair it was the 10th hour into your shift. He looked at you concerned but knew you were stubborn. "He had some tenderness on the right side of his abdomen, all vitals were normal." You said and he nodded his head.

"Lead the way." He said and you did just that. You walked in first and Cole was sitting up.

"This is Dr. Halstead he's just going to confirm my suspension." You said and he nodded. Will did the same thing you did and confirmed it.

"You do have appendicitis and we'll get you up to surgery right away. We'll be in shortly to start preparing you." Will said and Cole nodded.

"Thank you." He said and you both smiled and walked out of the room closing the curtain. Your chest was on fire. It was hard to breathe. You grabbed the desk and your breathing became labored.

"Y/N are you ok?" Will asked having heard your sudden change of breathing pattern and looked at you. You were sweating. You looked up at him and shook your head and the next thing Will knew your eyes were rolling to the back of your head and your knees gave out. He caught you "Woah. Ok, sis. I got you." He said even though you were unconscious. You fainting and him catching you caught everyone's attention. Maggie pointed him to Trauma 4.

"I paged Connor. He's on his way down." Maggie said and just about that time, he came barreling through the curtain to find his girlfriend on the bed unconscious. They had just sat you down on the bed.

"What happened?" He asked whipping out his stethoscope and starting to listen to you.

"I don't know. We were at the desk and all of a sudden her breathing changed and she passed out. She would've hit the ground if I hadn't caught her." Will said just as he got done listening to you. Connor nodded "I'm gonna go and call Jay and let him know what is going on." Will said needing to step out of the room, again Connor nodded.

He noticed that your heart rate was way too fast. Maggie, who was in the room, was hooking you up to the heart monitor. There wasn't anything for them to do but wait for you to wake up.

It was around 20 minutes later that you started to wake up to the sound of the heart monitor going. You slowly open your eyes and see both of your brothers and your boyfriend sitting there. Jay was next to you watching you and saw your eyes open.

"Hey sis. Welcome back to consciousness." Jay said with a smirk which made you smirk.

"Shut up." You told him that got a laugh out of the other two males.

"What's going on babe?" Connor asked and you sighed.

"I'll tell you after you get these leads off of me." You said and both Connor and Will moved to fill your request. Once it was done they nodded at you so you began. "It started Thursday. We both have been under a lot of stress and then I was worried that you weren't happy. I was also worried that we were going to break up because we weren’t spending time together as often. It made me start to stress out and then my chest started to hurt. Instead of telling you and putting more on your plate with the difficult surgeries and the amount, I didn't want you to worry about me." You said mainly to Connor but the rest of them heard.

"Oh, babe. I'm sorry we haven't been spending time together. But baby, 9 days? That's a lot of time to keep something a secret, especially something medical. I promise we'll start spending more time together. I should've seen the signs." He said and you nodded.

"Sis, I think I can speak for Jay as well, you could've come to us. We would've dropped everything for you. I'm a doctor I could've helped." Will said.

"I'm no doctor but you could've still come to me or even Haley." Jay said you had tears forming in your eyes.

"Thank you, guys. I'm sorry I kept it from you. I just hate bothering you all with knowing how busy our schedules are." You said and just then Goodwin walked in.

"Nurse Halstead, I heard that you fainted." She said and you nodded "Are you ok?" She asked you.

"Yes, I'm ok now. I had some chest pains and passed out. I was just stressed out." You said and she nodded.

"Well, I'm glad you're ok. I'm giving you the rest of the day off. Connor, I'm giving you the rest of the day off as well to watch out for our best nurse, your appointments, and surgeries have been handed over or rescheduled. Y/N, you take care of yourself and more getting into stressful situations." She said, "Have a good day and see you soon." Goodwin finished and walked out.

"Well, you heard her. Go get your stuff and head home." Jay said and you all laughed Connor helped you off the bed you bid your brothers a goodbye and you left with Connor.

When you got to the locker room Connor stood back watching you. "You should've told me, babe." He said softly and you turned around leaning up against the lockers.

"I know but you were already stressed. I didn't want my problems being put on your plate." You said softly back he walked over to you and brought you into a hug. You inhaled his musky scent and buried your head in his chest.

"From now on tell me what is going on no matter how silly it is. I'm in this with you no matter what. I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier. From now on we're going to be spending much more time with each other. From now on you have my utmost undivided attention." He said as he dropped a kiss on your head. You knew it was true.

"I like the sound of that." You said pulling back. You both finished getting your stuff and he slung his bag over his shoulder and grabbed yours. He slung his right arm around you and you both walked out of the hospital.

Since he drove you both to work, he drove you home. It was mostly silent but it was comfortable. He was holding your left hand over the center console and every now and then rubbed it with his thumb or kissed it.

When you got home it was all about you. Connor made you go change into something comfortable. He then made you sit on the couch while he made you both something to eat. After you were situated he went and changed and joined you. "I'm capable of doing things on my own you know." You said as he tried to feed you and he let out a deep chest chuckle that you loved.

"Yes I know but I want to keep the stress off of you. I'm also doing it because I love you and it's a way to say I'm sorry. Also doctors orders." He said and you could've sworn your heart melted and you laughed. You leaned up and kissed him which he returned. You let him feed you and as he ate. Once you were done you cuddled into his side and wrapped your arms around him, him doing the same to you and watching whatever you put on when he made you sit down.

"I promise to tell you next time in a heartbeat." You said and he chuckled. "I love you, babe." You said.

"I love you too." He replied. The fatigue was catching up to you and the warmth of your boyfriend along with his scent, was putting you to sleep. You tried to keep your eyes open as snuggled into him further, a sign he knew that you were getting tired. "Get some sleep, babe. I'm right here with you." He said and that's all it took for you to close your eyes and drift off to a peaceful sleep. Your breath evened out and Connor dropped a kiss onto your head.

Connor was going to make things right again. He loved you with his whole heart. He knew you were the right one for him and he couldn't wait to spend more years with you.

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