#I felt like I had to show I was still alive in this fandom
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Holiness is a punishment that must be taken with hands folded
Fandom: My Chemical Romance
Pairing: Frerard
Summary: Frank has a secret that needs to get out of his chest, while Gerard, the local church's priest, will be more than glad to show him the way to redemption.
Content Warning: religion, blasphemy, SMUT & (some) BDSM!! keep out of minors. (or read it anyway, im not your mom. youve been warned tho)
Word Count: 4.8 k
Also on AO3
A/N: been having this idea in the back of my mind since I saw gerard dressed as a priest. Sorry if they seem out of character or it's not “lore/timeline friendly” but its my first time writing about them and I find their dynamic very... uhm, fascinating. (Loosely set in the early 2000s)
Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Illustrations & moodboard made by me <3
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned." Frank sighed, after making the sign of the Cross and closing the confessional door behind him with shaky hands.
The man kneeled down. There was a pause where the walls of the booth felt like they were about to fall down Frank's shoulders. All could be heard was his heavy breathing. He grasped the crucifix of his rosary around his neck in his sweaty palms.
The reverend waited patiently on the other side of the grid that separated them.
"It has been... a long while since my last confession." Frank swallowed. "These are my sins. Well, my sin." He folded his hands, with the cross between his fingers, still.
Another pause where Frank felt like he was being buried alive.
“I can tell your heart is in turmoil.” The Father broke the silence in a soft voice. “What happened?”
“I... I have feelings for another man.” The sentence finally burst out of Frank's lips like he spat out a handful of nine inch nails. He couldn't discern the pastor's expression, but he could tell he was shocked from the movement of his shadow under the yellow light that illuminated that cramped place.
“You have to help me, Father.” Frank continued, his eyes welling up tears. “I don't want to be led into temptation.”
The priest let out a sigh. “Frank, do you mind if we speak face to face?”
“Uh... no, I don't.”
Frank found it difficult to look Father Gerard in the eye after what he had just told him. But, after all, the priest was there on purpose to keep his misdeeds a secret and provide him guidance.
“How long...” The Father tapped his fingers on the hardwood, his gaze wandering. “How long have you been feeling this way?”
“About three months.” Answered Frank, drying up his tears with the jacket's sleeve.
“And does he... know about your feelings for him?” This time the priest looked at Frank.
The man struggled to get himself to glance at Father Gerard in the eye for more than a split second, but he forced himself to raise his head. The priest's green eyes were kind and understanding.
It all started three months ago, when Frank saw him celebrating the first mass of his mandate in town. What caught Frank's attention was the fact that Father Gerard would always wear a leather jacket, his joviality, and how the reverend's eyes would light up during his sermons, which really captured the true meaning of the Lord's word, in a way that no other preacher could do. That's when Frank realized Father Gerard was no ordinary priest.
And that's also when Frank began feeling the proverbial butterflies in his stomach when he had to get ready to go to mass every Sunday: he couldn't wait to go listen to what the priest had to say about that day's gospel and every time he felt like his mind had been opened wider and wider.
As time went on, Frank realized what was happening. He fell into a crisis, throwing himself into intense prayer, relying on the saints for advice and asking God to forgive him, trying so hard to deny the feelings he was developing for the reverend. He stopped going to mass and to confess, in the hope it would've helped his heart forget him, but it made matters even worse, to the point of madness.
“I don't think so.” Said Frank in the end, his eyes watery. “I've been praying to forget about him.”
“You don't need to forget about him.” Smiled the pastor, reaching for the man's hands. “God makes no mistakes: you have to accept your nature, because you were made to His image and likeness.”
Father Gerard's hands were warm and soft, bringing a comforting sensation through Frank's whole body. He felt like Jesus Himself was holding his hand. “But... isn't homosexuality a sin?”
“Don't listen to anyone who says that. They're just charlatans who speak just to give air to their forked tongue.” The pastor looked away for a moment, his brow furrowed. “May Saint Francis Assisi be with you.”
“Th-thank you, Father.” Frank murmured, wondering what the priest had to live through to make him say that. He's really like no other...
“Well,” Said Father Gerard, looking at his watch, “looks like your time is up–”
“Can I meet you after the evening mass tonight?” The words spilled out against Frank's will. “There's something important I have to tell you.”
With a bit of hesitation, the pastor nodded. He traced the sign of the Cross in the air with two fingers. “Go in peace. For now.”
The rectory's door closed with a loud thump behind Frank, while Father Gerard secured the lock.
“Welcome, welcome!” Said the pastor cheerfully, making room for the man to come in.
Frank looked around: the place was decorated with vintage dark wood and long, sumptuous curtains. It was a chilly November evening, so the fireplace was lit, giving the living room a pleasant, comfortable atmosphere. The priest removed the man's coat and hung it on the rack before motioning him to sit on the couch, where Father Gerard soon followed with two glasses and a bottle of wine.
Frank watched the pastor pour the reddish liquid with elegant movements.
“The blood of Christ.” Chuckled Father Gerard, offering him the glass.
“Are we allowed to joke about this?” Asked Frank with a confused smile, before taking the cup.
“Well, I am a priest. I have the right to joke about it.” The pastor smiled again, letting himself fall on the sofa.
They both laughed, raised the glasses and took a sip.
Frank couldn't dare to look Father Gerard in the eye, concentrating his gaze on the wine. “I haven't been completely honest with you.” He eventually broke the silence with a shaking voice.
The pastor tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, perplexed.
“I-I... Oh, Jesus...” It was too late to turn back now. Frank swallowed in his dry throat. “The man I love is you, Father Gerard.”
The priest stared at him, his mouth half open in shock. “Frank...”
"I..." The man let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry." His voice choked up, and his eyes misted.
“I'm afraid this changes things.” Father Gerard's eyes darkened. “Desire for a man of the cloth transcends sin.”
Frank felt his heart sink and his whole face flush. A knot in his throat was forming, making it hard to speak, like in those nightmares where you want to scream and shout for your life but you feel like your mouth has been stitched shut. He lowered his gaze.
“That's why I want to show you the way to redemption.” Continued Father Gerard, a smirk crossing his face.
Frank looked up. “What... Do you mean?”
The priest's fingers moved to Frank's cheek, making the man's heart rate rise, unable to glance away. The lighting from the fire made Father Gerard's angelic features look more marked, giving him a sinister look.
God, this can't be happening...
As the pastor came closer, he looked up for a moment, whispering something about forgiveness and sin: Frank didn't understand what he said because of the blood thumping in his ears. But before he could process what was going on, Father Gerard's lips touched his.
The kiss lasted for what seemed hours. So much in fact that Frank, when the priest detached himself from him, was left breathless.
“So this is your idea of redemption?” Managed to ask Frank, in between wheezes. “Making things worse?”
Father Gerard blew air out of his nose in amusement. “You have no idea how I could make things way worse for you.” He cupped Frank's face in his hands. “You have no idea.” He repeated, stressing the last words.
Frank raised an eyebrow. “I would like to see you try.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said,” the man came closer to the priest, “I would love to see you try making things worse.”
Even Frank didn't know what happened to him: what was this newfound confidence and will to submit to sin? Was he drunk after just a sip of wine? Was Gerard the Devil himself in disguise and was he trying to possess him? One thing was sure, he was completely bewitched by the pastor at that point.
Father Gerard let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “You don't know what you're getting yourself into.”
“If I don't know, would you show me?”
The priest hesitated for a second, but eventually got up and grabbed the man's hand: “Follow me.”
Frank heard the door close behind him, followed by a latch lock. The bedroom was very modest and ordinary, with a large crucifix above the bed and a desk in the corner filled with stacks of books and papers.
“Frank,” Began Father Gerard, putting his leather jacket on the chair beside the wardrobe, “do you trust me?”
The man, who was busy looking around, turned his head to the priest. “Father –”
The pastor raised a finger. “It's just Gerard to you, now.” He corrected him, throwing the clerical collar behind.
Frank nodded. “Of course I do, Gerard.”
“Very well.” Gerard smiled, walking across the room, reaching for an old-looking dresser that he pulled out from under the bed. It opened with a click after he inserted a key in a rusty lock.
That's when Frank's internal alarm started going off. While Gerard was rummaging in the dresser, looking for God-knows-what, the man thought of taking the opportunity to sneak away, but then he remembered he was locked in there.
“Ah, there it is!” Exclaimed Gerard, getting up soon after with a studded leather collar – wait, was that a ball-gag? – in one hand and a length of rope in the other.
Frank swallowed at the sight of them. Yep, I'm in danger.
“Don't give me that look!” Laughed Gerard, moving closer. He reached for Frank's neck with the collar, but the man dodged him.
“I'm not gonna put that on.” Protested Frank with a grimace.
Gerard came so close to his face that their lips almost touched. “You have no choice on the matter, sweetheart.”
That felt like a spell was put on Frank: his knees got weak and his heart started beating so fast, his head started spinning.
“Be a good boy...” Gerard nearing his lips against Frank's ear.
Those words went down Frank's spine like an electric shock. Something clicked in the back of his head. “S-say it again.” He swallowed.
Gerard chuckled. “Be a good boy for me...” He whispered, then he pressed his lips against the other man's neck, which made him inhale sharply.
All the thoughts about the fear of sinning went out the window as soon as Frank reached for Gerard's lips and they united in a ravenous kiss. They pulled each other closer with fingers running through their hair and exploring their bodies under their shirts and eventually Frank's one fell on the ground.
Gerard caught the occasion to press a hand on Frank's shoulder to make him fall on his knees, guiding him down without detaching himself. “Fold your hands.” He said eventually, while getting up.
Frank, who just realized he was kneeling, looked up at Gerard like a lost dog, but did as he was told.
“Our Father, who art in heaven...” Gerard began chanting, while wrapping the rope around Frank's wrists.
“...Hallowed be thy name.” Continued Frank, his eyes fixed on Gerard, in complete adoration. “Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done on Earth, as it is in heaven...” He swallowed, feeling Gerard's breath on his naked skin. “Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us...” Gerard had just tied the knot with a tug. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”
“Amen.” They both said in the end, before Gerard leaned in for a kiss.
Gerard's lips were soft and radiated warmth across Frank's shaking body: now that he had a taste of what he craved and yearned for months, he couldn't get enough.
“I think I had a dream like this once...” Murmured Frank once their lips separated.
“Oh yeah?” Gerard's eyes lit up. “Tell me about it.”
Frank felt his whole face flush.
The other's smile widened. “You're so cute when you blush.” He pinched Frank's cheek.
Frank couldn't help but feel humiliated over the fact that Gerard had this much control over him now, but what shocked him the most was the realization that he liked it. He had the nerve to provoke him earlier, but now that he had met his match, he immediately turned into a beaten up dog. And he enjoyed being Gerard's little puppy, all his to tease and torment.
“I, uh... This is so embarrassing, but...” Frank swallowed. "One time I dreamed that... I was confessing my sins, while... Uh..."
"Yes...?" Insisted Gerard, picking up a tick book from the desk pile.
"How do I put this... while..." Frank's gaze shifted from the pavement to the ceiling. "I was giving you... pleasure." The final words poured out of his mouth like a river gushing from its banks.
Gerard raised his head from the book to stare at Frank. "What kind of pleasure are we talking about?" He inquired after a pause, approaching closer to the other, who was making himself tiny by pressing his shoulders against his body.
“You know damn well what I'm talking about.” Scoffed Frank after a while with half a smile, suddenly gaining up the courage to talk back. Gerard already had him tied up; what's next, he was going to take his dignity?
Frank felt a burning ache on his cheek before realizing Gerard had smacked him across the face.
“Pride is a sin. You should know that, Frank.” Gerard's expression went dark; a sinister smile curved his lips while he grabbed Frank by the neck.
Frank was now forced to look Gerard in the eye. “Lust is a sin, too.” He managed to say, through gritted teeth. “You act like you'll be my savior, but you're no different than me.”
Gerard narrowed his gaze, raising an eyebrow. “Want me to show you?”
“What... are you... waiting... for...?” Frank struggled to speak.
“You just can't help yourself from being a little shit, huh?” Gerard tightened the grip,coming closer to his face. “I'll make you regret every decision that led you to this.”
“What if... that's exactly... what I want?” Frank was finding it really hard to breathe.
“Then there's no hope for you.” Gerard's lips touched Frank's.
Frank was beginning to feel lightheaded, his face turning blue.
“Having trouble breathing, huh?” Gerard smirked, squeezing a bit more. “Be a good boy and maybe I'll let you go.”
Frank tried to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth.
“What's that? You want me to choke you more?”
Frank shook his head, beginning to fear for his life. “I beg you, Gerard... P-please let me go...”
“Hmm...” Gerard lifted his gaze to the ceiling, as if to think about it.
Frank squeezed his now teary eyes shut. “Please, I'll be a good boy!” His voice was nothing but a whisper. “I promise...”
Gerard finally let go of Frank's throat.
Frank coughed and gasped for air, collapsing on the ground.
Gerard leaned over him to caress his hair. “You poor thing...”
His condescending tone got on Frank's nerves. The man shot him a death stare, while trying to pull himself up by the elbows.
“Aw, that look again?” Gerard leaned over him and inclined his head. “Don't act like you're not enjoying yourself.” He nodded at the man's crotch with a grin.
Frank looked down, unaware until then of his erection, visible through his jeans. He instinctively closed his legs, his face turning red and his body becoming stiff.
Gerard let out a giggle before helping Frank get up on his knees again. He caressed the man's neck with his fingers and tongue.
Frank didn't know what to think anymore: how could Father Gerard be both his butcher and savior? How was it possible he not only accepted, but wanted to be treated like a dog by him? He looked for Gerard's lips to suck on, to which the other responded with nibbling on his neck, where there were still the imprints of his fingers, where it hurt. Frank let out a soft whimper.
Shit...
How did we get to this...?
Gerard smiled, picking up the bible that he left at the foot of the bed earlier, without stopping kissing and biting Frank on the neck, lips and cheeks. “I called on your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit...” He began reading, “You heard my plea – Do not close your ear to my cry for help!”
Frank nestled his face on Gerard's shoulder, kissing his neck, inebriated by his scent.
“You came near when I called on you; you said – Do not fear!” Gerard continued with heavy breath, but maintained his composure; he emphasized the last sentence, just like when he'd read the Lord's word during mass. He paused to sit on the bed, unbuckling his belt.
“You have taken up my cause, O Lord...” Gerard grabbed Frank by the hair and guided him to his lap; the other didn't waste any time, proceeding to unzip his pants with his teeth, noting that not only Gerard had already a hard-on, but he was also not wearing any underwear.
Frank turned up, as if in search of approval.
Gerard flashed him a smirk, shoving his face between his legs; then, he continued: “You have redeemed my life...”
Frank tasted Gerard in his mouth before he realized it, which was... different that what he expected, but then again, he never gave head to another man before, so who knows what he was hoping for. He managed to take it deep in his throat, stayed in that position for a bit, then he quickly pulled back, breathless; but that didn't stop him from lapping Gerard's shaft and kissing his tip soon after.
“You have seen the wrong d-done to me, O-Oh, Lord... j-judge my cause...” Gerard was beginning to stutter, to breathe heavily. “Y-you have seen all... their vengeance... O-oh fuck...” He inhaled sharply, throwing back his head.
Frank looked up for a second: with his languid eyes and half-parted lips, Gerard was the closest thing to a divine apparition he'd ever seen.
Gerard smiled at Frank, grabbing his hair and instructing him to keep going in between wheezes, as the other went down on him hard and fast, bobbing his head up and down, drooling all over the ground.
Frank felt the grip on his hair getting tighter and tighter, realizing he let out groans every time. Gerard, in the meantime, was becoming a mess, panting curse words, exhaling his name and praising him.
Frank refused to take a break until he felt Gerard's warmth running down his throat: the load was thick and plentiful, to the point that part of it spilled out on his lips and on the pavement. He detached himself before licking his lips.
Gerard, who watched the whole scene in astonishment, raised Frank's head by the chin, caressing his cheek with his thumb.
“That's the...” Frank finally caught his breath.
“The Holy Spirit.” Continued Gerard, promptly.
They both burst out laughing.
“What I meant to say,” Clarified Frank while Gerard helped him get up, “is that this was my first time with a guy.”
“Really? I'm guessing it's your first time with a priest too.”
“Well... It doesn't happen often, that's for sure.” Frank moved his hands towards Gerard. “Would you kindly...?”
Gerard raised an eyebrow and smirked. “I'm not done with you.”
The last bits of a smile that Frank had got wiped away from that single sentence, eyes wide. “Excus – ?”
The man didn't have the time to finish the question that Gerard was already behind him: his warm hands on his naked skin gave him the shivers for the temperature shock. “C'mon, it's only fair, don't you think?” Gerard whispered in his ear, his right hand wandering from his chest down to his waist and finally unbuttoning his jeans. “And... the confession is not over...” He continued, kissing and licking Frank's cheek.
“What do you me–?” Gerard pushed Frank on the bed, joining him soon after, straddling him.
“Hi.” Said Gerard after a pause, his face inches from Frank's.
“H-Hey...”
Gerard planted his lips on Frank's.
The other kissed back, trying so hard to move his head forward to taste as much as possible of Gerard's mouth; he would've grabbed his hair and pulled him closer, wrapping his arms and legs around his shoulders and waist and grind against him until he couldn't take it anymore and have him inside him, but all he could do was stay still, completely blocked by Gerard, who was running his fingers, tongue and teeth all over his body, which drove Frank crazy, making him a panting and groaning mess.
Gerard gently moved Frank's arms upward with one hand and put the other inside his pants. A grin spread across his lips while a moan escaped Frank's mouth.
Gerard began motioning his hand up and down Frank's shaft, slowly at first, then increasingly faster, while watching the man lose control of his own body, squirming and breathing heavily. “So, about the dream... Care to tell me now?”
“I... I was sucking you off while confessing my sins to you.” Frank blurted out, in between pants, diverting his eyes from the other man. “We were in the confessional.”
“And did you enjoy it?” Gerard grabbed Frank by the chin to force him to look at him in the eye, his other hand continuing to jerk Frank off faster and faster.
“Uh-huh...” The man admitted. “I... I touched myself to that. Many times.”
A smirk crossed Gerard's face. “You're so nasty...”
Frank felt a familiar tingle running through his body. “Yes I am, Gerard. I am a sinner.” That's the moment he sprayed his cum all over Gerard's hand.
Gerard brought his fingers to his mouth to lick them, crossing Frank's gaze and grinning.
“Uh... Gerard...?”
“Yes?”
“I want you inside me...”
Gerard shot a glance at him, visibly caught off guard. “Are you sure?”
Frank nodded, his eyes closed and his cheeks red. “Make me holy...”
Gerard blew out air from his nose, lying his face against Frank's shoulder blade. “Well... Since you're asking so nicely...” He gently pulled down Frank's jeans to the ankles, kissing and biting his skin until he arrived at Frank's inner thighs. “It's gonna take a while,” Warned Gerard, after lifting his head and placing his hands on Frank's knees, to spread his legs. “And I'm out of lube, too...” He added, more as an out-loud thought.
“Can't you spit on it?”
A short pause.
“You really want me to fuck your ass, don't you?” Gerard chuckled.
“I just think you're the right man to take my virginity.” Said Frank, giggling as well.
“Yeah, yeah, sure. No one's better than a priest at that.” Gerard talked back, spitting generously on his hands. “At least you're sure no one's gonna know it, huh?” He took position while lubricating himself. “Ready?”
Frank nodded.
Gerard carefully penetrated him, trying to be as slow and gentle as possible. “Tell me if it hurts.”
“A lil' bit.” Informed Frank, “But I like it.”
A groan escaped Gerard's lips as he went inside, leaning closer to cover the man's face in kisses as he motioned back and forth.
Frank closed his eyes, letting himself drown in the affection and pleasure that was given to him and searching for Gerard's lips to suck and nibble on in turn. “F-faster.” He murmured at some point.
“Hmm, what did ya say?” The other smirked, narrowing his gaze.
“Faster, please.” Frank swallowed, speaking more clearly.
Gerard gradually accelerated the rhythm, as Frank arched his back more and more at every neck kiss, every touch of the waist, every stroke of his erection, moaning louder and louder. “You're... So... Pathetic...” Exhaled Gerard in Frank's neck, in between three powerful strokes.
Frank let out a whimper of a wounded dog, making Gerard go even harder on him while Frank pulled him closer by locking his legs around his waist, to which the other responded by biting and sucking on Frank's skin near his shoulder blade that bruised almost immediately.
Their breaths harmonized as Gerard threw his head back. “I'm... I'm close...” He informed in between wheezes.
“Me too.” Frank nodded in turn.
Gerard kept going faster, his grip on Frank's waist tightening, while panting and cursing. As they both came – one inside and the other all over his own chest –, he stopped, his eyes wide open just as his mouth. He let out a loud groan after a second and leaned close to Frank, with a satisfied smile on his face.
They united in a final, desecrated kiss.
“Wow. Just... wow.” Gerard fell on the bed beside Frank, extracting a cigarette from a packet. “I haven't had this much fun since seminary!”
Frank giggled at that but didn't feel like investigating further, thinking that maybe the questions he had were better left unanswered for now.
Gerard lit up his cigarette. “Wanna take a drag?” He asked, looking at the man, after exhaling a cloud of smoke.
Frank gladly accepted: “Thanks,” he said taking a pull, “I forgot to buy some before coming here.”
“Now that you smoked my cig, you're my bitch now, y'know?” Smirked Gerard, as he took the cigarette from Frank's hands.
The other raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was very clear that I am your bitch now. Y'know, since you fucked my ass.”
Gerard let out smoke from his nose, amused. “You're right, you're right.” He flickered the cigarette to make the ash fall on the tray on his bedside table, observing the hickey he gave Frank on the shoulder. He reached out to touch it. “Does it hurt?”
“Yes. Everything.” Replied Frank, rubbing his wrist.
“Sorry, I might got carried away –”
Frank raised his hand. “It's okay.” He smiled. “I don't mind the pain.” As long as it was you.
Gerard gave Frank what remained of the cigarette and moved closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, while Frank, dragging smoke, put his head on Gerard's chest.
“Was I a good boy?” Asked Frank after a while.
“The best boy.” Said Gerard softly, kissing his cheek.
“Have I earned my way to redemption?” Frank asked again, looking at the other.
Gerard shot a thoughtful glance at the crucifix. “I think so, yeah. Three Hail Mary's and you're good.”
They both laughed.
They stayed in silence for what seemed a long time, until Gerard let out a yawn and got up from the bed.
Frank stood up as well, threw away the cigarette butt, then he looked for the rest of his clothes.
Gerard helped him get dressed up. “Oh wait –” He traced his finger up on Frank's chest, picking up a drop of cum. “I know for a fact this doesn't come off clothes easily.”
Frank put the other's finger in his mouth and sucked on it.
Gerard observed him with bewilderment in his eyes.
“What's that look about, huh?” The man shot a glance at him, presenting his best shit-eating grin.
Gerard let out a chuckle before leaning over to kiss him.
As Frank was buttoning his shirt and wandering around the room, he moved closer to have a peek at the notebook left open; in front of him was a freshly inked portrait of a man with his same haircut: long, black bangs and red side-shaves; he had red eye shadow and crosses drawn on his eyes. The lines of the illustration were thick and the colors used were bold, reminding him of the action comics he'd read as a kid.
“If you're wondering,” Explained the other, “that's not you. Well, at least not entirely. I like to take inspiration from people I see around me, and make... characters out of them.”
“This is awesome!” Commented Frank, brushing his fingers on the paper, afraid to ruin it.
“You want it? I can give it to you. Here, let me sign it.” Gerard picked up a marker, scribbled his signature near the portrait, took off the sheet from the notebook and gave it to Frank.
“Thank you so much!” Frank moved his gaze between him and the drawing.
“Thank you, Frank.” The other smiled, after giving him one last tender kiss.
As Frank walked home, he couldn't stop glancing at the artwork, imprinting a wide smile on his face. He sighed, as the same thought that he had before repeated in the back of his head: Father Gerard really is no ordinary priest.
#sinner writings#my chemical romance#mcr#gerard way#frank iero#frerard#gerard way fanfiction#frank iero fanfiction#frerard fanfiction#mcr fanfiction#if you know me you also know that there was a time when I lost my mind over priest gee#my main is well documented on that#so yeah this brainrot has been in the backburner for about two years#hey by the way. by the fucking way. i do not encourage to replicate what i wrote#like#dont fuck your priest#or if youre gonna always use a condom 👍#also I think I kinda forgot halfway through what this was supposed to be and i lost the plot#but there's always next time. If you want it of course#ahhhhh im scared to put this out in the world#like i put my whole dick and balls into it yknow
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#warrior nun#jillian salvius#I should have posted this like a month ago but life#I felt like I had to show I was still alive in this fandom#I'm just incredibly tired nearly all the time and the other time is just work#I'll have to do a Warrior Nun rewatch soon because I miss them#also to the people with whom I used to talk a lot but we no longer do I hope you're all fine and I miss talking with you! <3
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MY HEART IS BROKEN SO I NEED TO CRY First of all, I LOVE how you write, and I wanted to make a request about Lucifer breaking reader's heart, it doesn't matter how, I just want a broken heart 😔note: Sorry for the English translator, I don't write it but I understand it, TOTALLY CRAZY
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—Part One
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: angst (for now)
Warnings: none.
Notes: this one is short, 450 ish words but will serve as a foundation for the entire series lolol. Also, it's okayy:) your english is finee^^
PART TWO | NAVIGATION
Life was good in heaven. Having been brought to existence by our creator, we were given a chance at life. The world is still currently in progress, slowly changing to adapt to newer life forms.
We angels were tasked to help this new world grow into such an amazing world. Speaking of worlds, I am very much grateful to be alive as I am given a chance to love. As one of the first few angels created, I was able to befriend Lucifer. God's most beautiful angel and whom I have the honor of calling mine.
Lucifer was such an awkward romantic lover, showing off his affections in his ways. Giving flowers, a pretty stone he managed to pass by while flying around, or perhaps by giving her kisses.
They've been married for some time now, being together for a few decades and recently got married. The wedding was amazing, friends and their creator attended the celebration. It was a very beautiful celebration, the wedding night was awkward yet romantic, two innocent angels experimenting, learning about the art of making love. It was wonderful. Despite being inexperienced, both had a great time being each other's firsts.
Life was truly good, until God announced that he made new creatures, mortals or humans as he calls them.
They looked like angels but without wings. They will be the very foundation of humankind.
Slowly and surely, Lucifer began to act weird. Ever since he visited the garden of Eden, he's been purposely avoiding [y/n]. Making up excuses to not spend time with her.
Rumors started to spread that Lucifer has begun to form ideas that threaten the order of heaven, [y/n] tries to stop him but Lucifer is stubborn. He believes that mankind needed this.
[Y/n] was heartbroken, why is the love of her life acting like this? Why doesn't he look at her with love and passion in his eyes like he usually does.
Why does it look like he doesn't love her anymore?
Deciding to spy on him, she followed him to the garden of Eden. There he saw her husband looking at the mortal woman, named Lilith with so much love and adoration in his eyes.
[Y/n] felt her heart and entire world shatter. Broken hearted, she quickly fled the garden. Returning back home and sobbed into her friend's slap.
She cried the whole night, Lucifer didn't even notice she wasn't home.
Not long after, Lucifer was cast out of heaven along with Lilith. [Y/n] was heartbroken beyond her understanding. She couldn't understand, her emotions all over the place. Her husband doomed humanity and was cast out of heaven with another woman.
[Y/n] didn't even get to tell him she was pregnant with his child.
Happy Valentine's Day:)
Also, guess whose lap she was crying on? His name starts with A;)
#lxkeee answers#hazbin hotel#lxkeee updates#lucifer hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar x reader#lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist#lucifer#lucifer magne#lucifer morningstar#hazbin hotel x reader
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chase davenport x reader pls the lab rats fandom is in a drought 🙏
I Missed You (Chase Davenport x GN!Reader)
Summary: Chase has been overworking himself with school, missions, his family, everything. He hasn't had time to see you recently, and no matter how he tries to open his schedule something else is added to his plate. So, you pay him a little visit just so he can take a break for a little while. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: I won't lie, this is kinda angsty (but it ends on a good note!) Word Count: 1.4k A/N: THIS IS MY HUSBAND BY THE WAY. PLEASE REQUEST HIM MORE I BEG YOU GUYS! PLEASE! PLEASE, DO IT FOR ME!
One month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes.
It’s been one month, two weeks, one day, six hours, and twenty-nine minutes, no, thirty minutes since the last time Chase Davenport had seen you in person. Along with that, it had been eight days, twelve hours, and seventeen minutes since he had last talked to you on the phone, since the last time he heard your voice.
He had been keeping count because, god, he missed you so much.
Davenport had him working on their next presentation of lab equipment, he had to go on a plethora of missions that have spiked up recently, there had been visits from their grandma, the house system had been tapped into three times, and he had to keep up with schoolwork on top of it all.
He was exhausted, and all he wanted was to see you. He wanted to be in your arms, to hold you, to hear how your day was, just to be around you. But, he wasn’t. He wasn’t able to do any of that, instead he was in the lab, alone, trying not to fall asleep or pull his hair out.
Chase was the smartest person alive, he had abilities that people would kill for. He was relied on, because he is irreplaceable and a necessity to everyone around him. He is trustworthy, responsible, and far greater than he gives himself credit for.
His family adores him, they do, even if sometimes they show it weirdly. Jabs with their words, or in Adams case their elbows, small comments, but they show the love. Chase knows they love him and that they care about him, they’re his family. Adam and Bree are his siblings that he grew up with, they love each other, even if they have a weird way of showing it. They are Davenports greatest creations and he reminds them of how important they are to him. Tasha is his mom, he finally got a mom and she cared for him like no one ever had. Then Leo, Leo is his brother who showed him, Adam, and Bree a world they never thought they’d be able to see.
So many people care for Chase, but…None of them could ease him how you do.
You were just different. It’s as if when Chase felt the entire world crumbling around him, when all the lights got dark and he suddenly felt like he had no solutions, you held your hand out to pull him out of his drowning fears. You saw the ugliest parts of him, the most violent, the cruel, the broken parts of him that no one had tried to fix, and you still smiled at him. You still held his hand, even through the darkness, and you even said you were scared.
When you told him that, he almost blocked out every word after. The thought of you being scared of him, even a bit, crushed him. Chase almost pulled back, he almost told you to let him go, to let him disappear into that dark forest of unknown feelings but you wouldn’t.
He remembers so clearly when you told him:
“I’m honestly a little scared that you’ll go so deep into the code of your chip, looking for what’s happening to you…that you’ll forget you’re still human.”
Chase put his forehead on the table, groaning at the ringing in his ears. He needed to get all of this done. He would say the sooner he got everything done, the sooner he would get to see you, but everytime he tried, something new was thrown onto him.
It was all so frustrating that when he reached his newest project he just dropped his head to the table, hands gripping his hair shakily. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and a bit of blood drew from how hard he was biting his lip to stifle any sobs that dared to pass his lips.
He had never felt so overwhelmed before in his life, usually he was so used to the work. He was used to doing everything accordingly, but it all suddenly felt like too much. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong to feel like this, he didn’t know what he was doing so wrong to the point he couldn’t just finish all of the work.
As Chase thought of all this, your words constantly repeated in his head, just as they had the past few weeks. You were scared that he wouldn’t remember his own human feelings, because he was so used to being treated as if he was robotic.
Your concern just caused Chase to tear up even more, clutching at his chest. He could feel his heart beating, he could hear it through the ringing.
When did he forget that his heart was still beating in his chest? When did he forget that he was more than just the chip in his neck?
During his processing thoughts, he didn’t hear the sound of the lab door opening. He didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching him. He was usually so on guard, he had ultra-sensitive bionic hearing, how did he not hear someone coming up behind him?
A hand was placed on his back, startling him immediately. Chase quickly wiped his tears, turning to the person swiftly, ready to scold them for sneaking up on him. That was until he looked up and made eye contact with…
You.
You stood there, a frown painting your face as you analyzed Chase with your eyes.
He stared, agape, lips parted, pupils shaking, face flushed as you observed him. He couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he had been working so long to the point he had gone delirious.
You stepped forward, hands cupping his cheeks, thumbs swiping at the wet corners of his eyes. “You were crying?” You whispered, mostly to yourself, but Chase heard it, you knew he did.
The brown haired boy didn’t answer your question though, he left it ignored as if there was something more important than how he was feeling. To him, there was. That something was you.
The moment he processed that you were physically in front of him, he stood up as fast as possible, his head feeling as if it were spinning for a moment. He ignored the feeling and wrapped his arm around you, placing his nose into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly, “You’re here.” He mumbled, taking a deep breath. “You’re actually here.”
You nodded against him, gently petting his hair as you wrapped your own arms around him. “I am…” You trailed off, frown still on your face, “Is everything okay?”
Chase thought for a moment, leaving the two of you in silence, was everything okay? His face felt like it was burning and he wasn’t used to it, his eyes felt sore, his throat was a bit scratchy, and he still felt a bit dizzy.
But…
His heartbeat slowed down, his hands weren’t shaking, his breathing was regulated, his mind finally felt clear, and…You were there.
Chase smiled against your shoulder, nodding and holding you a bit tighter, “I missed you.” He told you, pulling back to see your face.
You blinked at him, a bit confused, tilting your head a bit. “Okay… how long have you been in this lab?” You asked him, now noticing how pale he looked, looking around and seeing the papers scattered around. You squeezed his arms a bit, “You need sunlight.” You stated, chuckling a bit, pulling him by his hand to the doors of the lab.
“I still have work-”
“Chase, the work can wait.” You told him seriously, shaking your head. “You are human.” You reminded him, flicking his forehead lightly, “You need proper food, sunlight, social interaction, and more importantly,” You paused, cupping his face, kissing the spot you flicked, “you need a break.”
His breath staggered in his throat a bit, but he found himself once again. Chase smiled at you, his eyes lighting up, “Okay, I’ll take a break.” He told you, placing his hands over your own.
“Thank you.”
He hummed, enjoying the contact, closing his eyes slightly to just stay in that moment with you. Chase opened his eyes once again, slowly to see you looking back at him, concern in your eyes. He smiled again, glad to be able to smile again, “I missed you, so much.”
“I missed you too.”
It had been seven minutes and twenty-six seconds since Chase Davenport was finally able to see you again, and he wasn’t going to let that time stop anytime soon.
#Chase Davenport#Chase Davenport x reader#Disney#disney x reader#disney channel#disney channel x reader#disneyXD#disneyXD x reader#lab rats#lab rats x reader#infinite imaginings
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The Chain Meets Your Baby || 1/2
Part 2 ||
Pairing: Hyrule, Time, Wild, Four x Reader
Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Interesting indeed 😈Now, I have my own set of headcannons for what order the Chain becomes dads in, but regardless of their own experience, I'm sure the Links would all subject the new dad to lots of support and teasing. Here you go 💜 Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯_(ツ)_/¯
Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist
The last thing Hyrule was expecting to encounter during his village visit was his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage. Then again, life has been full of surprises lately and it wasn't like he didn't already know that the portals between their worlds are still active. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again and honestly, it couldn't have aligned more perfectly.
Happy to see the rest of the Chain again, Hyrule takes the liberty of inviting them back to his home so that they can properly catch up and not be the subject of so many judgment stares from villagers. Throughout the short trip there, the group’s laughter is vibrant as they detail accounts from their recent adventures, soon turning it into a friendly competition of who has the craziest stories.
This conversation stays well alive all the way from their first steps outside of the village gates to the second Hyrule opens the door to his house, at which point the spirited teasing immediately dies off into a stunned silence.
“Oh! Hello again!” You’re just as pleasantly surprised to see the boys as your boyfriend had been, your smile more than welcoming as you turn around to greet them, yet they’re less focused on you and more so on the small infant you cradle in your arms.
“...I think the Traveler wins,” Wild mumbles, his disbelief shared amongst the rest of the group who merely nod distractedly.
“Right! I forgot to mention -” Hyrule excitedly hurries to your side before turning to his friends with a thrilled smile, “- This is our daughter, Hope.”
“You just casually forgot to mention you have a kid now…?” Legend narrows his eyes while pointing to the kid in question. He should probably be more annoyed with Hyrule’s tendency of always skipping over important details, but honestly he’s just too shocked to process it right this second.
“Well, she’s only about a month old. Being a dad now takes some getting used to,” Hyrule defends, rubbing the back of his neck timidly, but when you pass your daughter over to him, he shows practice in the way he gently holds her securely to himself before approaching the boys to properly show her off.
Despite their surprise, they’re eager to crowd around him, each wanting to get a good look to ensure this isn’t some clever joke you’re both pulling on them. Fluffy head of dark wavy hair…A little button nose…Sharp pointed ears…Yep, this baby must be yours. She looks exactly as one would imagine the product of Hyrule’s sex life to look like…
“...Geeze. She’s adorable,” Warrior awes, practically leaning over Legend who elbows him back with a glare.
“Isn’t she?” You preen.
“She’s strong, too,” The Vet acknowledges with an unamused pout. He had made the mistake of holding a finger out to the baby only for her to grasp it in an unwavering grip. His attempts at pulling away are fruitless, not that he’s actually trying that hard. Maybe he even likes the feeling of his heart melting just a bit.
“Congratulations. You two must be very proud,” Time praises kindly, having already felt the joy that comes with being a parent himself. He can recognize it in the way Hyrule and you affectionately watch your giggling baby with a pleasant glow surrounding you both.
“We very much are…”
Muffled commotion outside alerts you to the fact that you have visitors long before they stumble into your home, not even bothering to knock as their excitement gets the better of them. Now, any other day, your husband would be quick to scold such ill-mannered behavior, but fortunately for your guests, he's in far too good of a mood to let it be soured.
So, instead of acknowledging the Chain’s less than graceful entrance, Time immediately rises to his feet with a proud hand left upon your shoulder, "Everyone, we'd like you to meet Saria and Mallory."
The young heroes are in awe as they crowd around the bed just to get a look at the small bundles held within your arms. Sure, they've seen babies before, but these are Time's babies. For many of them, the complicated concept of love alone had once seemed out of reach for any hero of courage, yet here the Old Man is, hitched to a lovely wife and now the lucky father of two adorable daughters. It's an amazing accomplishment, really; one that has the entire Chain feeling happy for him.
"They're so little," Hyrule whispers, scared to speak any louder out of fear he'll accidently wake them.
"They inherited their dad's nose, poor things," Warrior jests, throwing a smirk Time's way.
"They'll grow into them," Rather than take it personally, he chuckles while carefully taking one of the girls from you. Despite having only become a father a few hours ago, he's already a natural at handling them. Ever so gently - as if handling the thinnest of glass - he cradles his daughter to his chest and fixes the tiny hand-sewn blanket around her; a gift from her godmother, Malon, of course.
"You'll have your hands full with twins," Four remarks prudently.
You sigh at the thought, your head thrown back against your pillow, "Ugh, we know…”
Although you’re visibly tired after having undergone hours of stressful labor, you still look upon the baby in your arms with nothing short of pure admiration, clearly having no actual regrets towards having either of them. In your eyes, twins just mean all the more love to give.
"Nothing we can't handle," Time promises before getting a mischievous glimmer in his eye while casually extending his sleeping baby out to Twilight, "This one is Mallory, by the way -"
"- W-Wait -!" The Rancher is immediately caught off guard by it, yet his objections are ignored. Time drops the baby into his arms anyway, practically forcing Twilight to take her, not that he truly minds. A natural around children himself, it takes him only a few seconds to adjust the baby comfortably in his hold.
Blind to the other boys who hover around his shoulders, Twilight's eyes are locked in amazement upon the tiny bean who scrunches her nose and whimpers quietly before soon settling down…To think, this small infant no more than a few hours old is a relative of his. He can't help but wonder how closely related they are. How many generations between them? Three? Two? Maybe even just one? It's a strange thought to consider...but also a very comforting one, too.
"...She's a real beauty, isn't she?" Time asks softly with a strong pat to Twilight's back. The only reply he gets is a wordless nod and whimper as the teary eyed Rancher sniffles.
What kind of horrors do they need to prepare themselves for? That's the question that rings through every hero's head as they approach Wild's home. They're concern only grows when - as if sensing them - the Champion suddenly appears in his open doorway with an ear-to-ear grin greeting them...Not the most comforting sight seeing as they've come all this way under his vague request.
A letter had been sent to each of them only giving the minor hint that there’s a certain 'surprise' he can't wait to show them, and with someone as chaotic as their accident prone centenarian, the Chain has every right to be anxious about it.
Even as they all crowd outside of his home, Wild refuses to add any context, instead maintaining his mysteriously upbeat aura before finally stepping aside to allow them in. It's only then that the heroes realize what his 'surprise' is, welcomed by the sight of you as you stand there matching Wild's grin while holding an unfamiliar baby in your arms. She can't be much older than a few weeks, judging on both her tiny features and the obvious bags under both of her parents’ eyes...
"You have a baby?!" Wind screeches with delight, not wasting a second to race to your side.
"Her name is Mikan," Chuckling, you kneel down to let him better see your pride and joy. It isn't long before you're surrounded by most of the heroes who are immediately taken by your daughter's cuteness.
"When did this happen?" Time inquires through a raised eyebrow, one of the few Links who had remained by the door with Wild.
"Uh, she'll be three weeks old tomorrow," Wild answers, his hand darting up to rub the side of his neck. He knows that isn’t exactly what Time meant, but it’s the easiest answer.
"I didn't think you -..." Begins Twilight quietly. Although he ultimately cuts himself short, the curious look he gives his successor wordless finishes what he might've said.
Nodding slowly with some hesitation, Wild bows his head while looking back over to you. There's a fondness in his eyes as he watches you carefully pass your daughter over for Wind to hold, "I know what I said before. I...I didn't think this was something I could have - something I could want this badly, but...Well…I probably don’t need to tell you how it is…”
Twilight pats Wild’s back with a knowing smirk, indeed understanding. He’s happy to see his friend finally accept the peaceful life he deserves instead of continuing to run away from it, after all, Twilight has never been blind to the curiosity and faint jealousy that would shine in Wild’s eyes whenever listening to the other heroes talk about their families. He’s been long overdue to have one of his own.
"Hey, just one question," While Wind is busy cooing and rocking your daughter, Four turns around to address Wild once they finally join everyone else, "Did you really name your daughter after a fruit?"
Wild's cheeks flare in embarrassment, "I - It can be a pretty name, too!"
"I'm actually the one who chose it," You confess sheepishly, taking the attention away from your partner, "I was really craving tangerines throughout the whole pregnancy."
"At least it's a somewhat normal name. I was half expecting you to name your future kids something like 'Biscuit' or 'Curry'," Legend snorts.
"...We did consider picking 'Sage'.”
Warrior laughs heartily before throwing a hand over Wild shoulder with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, "Can we expect that to be the second child's name then?"
"Woah, woah, woah - Let's settle down now, gentleman,” You immediately scold while also taking the chance to save your poor partner by pulling him away from the onslaught of teasing he was about to endure, “One baby at a time. It’s not easy carrying those things, just ask your wives!”
Four has been off into his own little world - That is to say, he’s been both distracted and extremely tired; a terrible mix, but hey, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Despite his eyelids feeling like bricks, he remains awake and alert, arms folded across his chest as he sits in the bedside chair keeping watch over your sleeping form.
You need the rest more than him anyway. Your husband has been through some pretty fearsome and ravenous beasts in his time, yet your work last night easily trumpeted every hell he’s undergone himself. Best to let you sleep unless he wants to change that statement.
A series of echoed knocks send Four bolting through the house, hissing a curse under his breath before tossing the front door open with plans to scold whoever’s on the other side, yet he’s stunned into silence when he realizes it’s no poorly timed mailman, rather the very friends he had invited over…although, they did come a lot sooner than he thought they would…
“WE’VE COME TO SEE -!”
“- SHHH!!!” Four nearly smacks a hand over Wild’s face.
“- …The baby…” Wild finishes with a whisper and a grimace.
Four quickly ushers the Chain inside, allowing them to make themselves comfortable with STRICT orders to keep the noise level down. Yes, their early visit may not have been exactly anticipated, but Four holds no ill feelings towards it, in fact, he’s rather smiley while leading them to the nursery.
“Here they are,” He practically sings, eagerly looking inside the large crib as if he, himself, still can’t get enough of its contents. He has every right to be infatuated, “These are my girls~”
Although Four is bubbling with joy as he admires his little creations, the rest of the Chain stands by with wide eyes. Some even take the time to count each baby just to confirm that they are, indeed, seeing triple. Inside lies three little newborns, each fast asleep after having about as stressful of a day as their parents.
“We’re thinking of naming them Marigold, Amber, and Camelia. You know, keep to the color theme and all…”
“Damn, three of them, huh? You didn’t hold back at all, did you, Smithy?” Warrior observes aloud, much to Four’s instant lack of amusement.
“They’re so cute~” Wind coos, Twilight having to pull him back before he accidentally falls into a crib again.
“I suppose it’s a good thing I brought some of the twins’ old stuff then,” Time hums, his smirk holding a hint of sympathy. Needless to say, he doesn’t miss those early days of juggling babies himself, as much as he loves them dearly.
Four preens at the attention his daughters get, however his smile falters when he notices Sky sticking to the very back of the group, awkwardly rubbing his arm and chewing down on his lip. Four frowns.
“...I’m sorry. We should’ve waited until we told -” He keeps his voice down as he joins the older hero who is quick to shake his head and muster his best smile.
“- No, no. We’re happy for you both. Really…” Despite the sorrow stuck in his voice, Four can tell Sky means every word of it, even the sighed: “...You’re a very lucky guy.”
“...I am,” While there could be more said, he realizes now might not be the time to discuss it. Not with so many new babies in the room.
“No wonder you wanted us to be quiet. I can barely handle one newborn at a time, let alone three at once?” Legend mumbles half to himself, his finger gently cresting one of the baby’s chubby cheeks.
“You know, if you ever find your house getting a little too quiet, you can always babysit -”
“- No way in hell. We already have our hands full as it is.”
#lu time x reader#lu hyrule x reader#lu wild x reader#linked universe x reader#link x reader#linked universe#x reader#reader insert#legend of zelda#lu four x reader
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You are Astarion's favorite blood sacrifice. He decides to reward you for it.
Characters: Yandere!Ascended!Astarion x GN!Reader Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Warnings: Yandere, Vampires, Reader nearly dies, Blood being mentioned in all manners, Biting, Death mention, Minor sexual hints, Desperation, Possessiveness, Obsessiveness, Minor violent acts (not directed at reader except biting)
a/n: I don't have a big Halloween story for you guys, but I've been trying to get back into writing more and I've been working on this story the last couple of days, so I hope you enjoy it ♥ (I mean it's vampires so that's almost Halloween-themed right???)
Darkness is a vampire's best friend.
It shields them, hides them, benefits them—all without expecting something in return. It's nature's way of making up for all the pain and suffering it put its less loved children of the night through, and they welcome it, moonlight glistening on their skin, their perception so much sharper without the fear of sunlight's burn.
Like eager partners in crime, a vampire's gifts are amplified by what the darkness provides. They stalk in the shadowy coat of the night; see the prey that wants to stay unseen. Their voices, mellow and honeyed, sound even sweeter, whispered in the ears of those who wander into the vampire's hunting grounds as the creatures lure their prey with promises of grandeur. Fame, money, lust. It seems to be all that their food desires. What more could someone want who's unaware of being tricked? And so they follow wherever the masters of night command them.
Deeper and deeper into the darkness.
"Hello, darling."
You came to hate it—all of it. The darkness, the night.
The whispers and touches, promises and the hunt. You knew he had many more like you, living blood banks stored in cold, dark cells. You heard them scream every night when the bell rang twelve, the darkest hour of the day. Sometimes, you recognized the cries as the ones from days before, but you never knew when would be the last time you'd hear the poor souls lost in the darkness. New ones came and went, but you were the only one that remained after every night.
Somewhere between three and four months, you lost count of the days spent here. You tried to remember how many times you'd been visited, but one miscount, and now you didn't know if it had been one or ten years. You would have expected to get mad in the darkness, alone and aching from your shoulders to your ankles, with no place on your body unbitten. But Astarion was punctual—perhaps the only good quality about him. That was the only thing to keep you grounded down here.
He didn't miss a single day of feeding or, as he called it, spending time with you.
Alongside your meal, he showed up at exactly midnight every night, someone always there to close the door behind him without fail. You had never seen his face, but you had felt it plenty of times beneath your fingertips, enough to know he was one of those handsome bloodsuckers who kidnapped and locked you here. At least for now, as long as you were pretty enough in his eyes as well. Eyes that you felt creeping over your body the moment the only door to the outside opened, only more darkness waiting behind it. They mustered you, devoured you perhaps, an appetizer before the main course.
You knew nothing of your nightly visitor besides his punctuality and his name. There was no face to associate it with, just the feeling of his cold skin and the sharp pain of his fangs in your memory. And yet, something told you he was special even among his kind. Somewhat… superior. He still had the capability to be gentle if he wanted, never causing you to cry out in agony like the other sacrificial lambs did. And more importantly, after all this time, you were sure he was the one keeping you alive.
"Astarion," you greeted him, simply, calmly. Hiding the shiver in your voice despite the room growing colder ever since he stepped inside. It was hard to say if you were still afraid of death when it was a constant threat like a noose hanging above your head. Perhaps you dreaded surviving more than dying if you thought about it, your heart growing heavier with fear and loneliness every day. But at the same time, you grew more and more desensitized to the screams and pain and more used to the darkness.
Hugging your body with one arm, you used the other to walk along the wall to your chair, the wood creaking as you sat down, scooting it closer to the table. He liked it when you did what he wanted without him having to ask you to. Astarion's steps were non-existent, but you needn't wait for or invite him to join you. You could always count on his chest pressing against your back the moment you sat down as he leaned over you from behind. It was a familiar yet suppressive feeling. A reminder of your position.
You were below him, prey to be consumed. Yet, he treated you more like a pet, almost beloved, but at best, you were well-cared for. You doubted he could feel anything towards you that wasn't belittling. You'd not thrive in the darkness on your own, but Astarion knew how to keep you alive. A waft of roasted chicken drifted into your nose, hearty and mouth-watering, and you had no doubts it would be accompanied by sides that would nourish the dire lack of vitamins you had. He had always insisted on you finishing your plate, feeding you himself if he had to. It couldn't go that you'd not eat what he graciously provided. But this was the only meal you were given every day, and the loss of blood made you too hungry to strike.
You tried once. For almost a week, you starved yourself until you could not do it anymore. Continuing not to eat when you were starving and food was served in masses to you cost too much willpower that you didn't have. Likewise, eating the food with the condition that you had to sit on his lap and thank him for every measly pea he fed you one after the other was enough humiliation to never try that again. And Astarion had been happy since with your plate wiped clean.
"You smell delightfully today," he mused as he drew back from the table. You felt his lips brush over your bare shoulder, your breath hitching when he pressed them to the nape of your neck. You'd not put it past him to eat before you, even though he seemed satisfied waiting for you to finish most of the time.
"Garbor gave me new soap today. Roses, I think," you breathed, reaching forward to the cutlery that, no doubt, laid beside the plate Astarion brought. It just appeared, almost magically. But you were pretty sure it was there all along, Garbor, the guard, probably cleaning and switching it out while you were asleep. You didn't even know if his name was Garbor; you merely decided to call him that. After all, no one would speak to you here aside from Astarion, even if you knew they existed in the shadows.
"Sure, if that's what you want to believe," Astarion chuckled, his comment profoundly unsettling as you knew what he meant when he said you smelled nice. Your blood. To him, you must have smelled as mouth-wateringly as your meal did to you. You had always empathized with animals, wishing for them to live their lives as best as possible, even if they were destined to be slaughtered. Ironic, now that you were cattle to a vampire, likely being fed according to Astarion's tastes.
"Next time, I think I'd like something citrusy again. The last soap was divine."
His hands driving up your arms made you nervous. They were unfettered by your movements as you aimlessly tried to pierce meat and vegetables onto your fork, your eyes never adjusting to the complete darkness of the basement cellar. You weren't a vampire, after all. Despite the time spent down here, the broken fear and authority between you two, he could still make you nervous. And you talked when you were anxious, to the point you wanted to bite your own tongue off.
A mix of a chuckle and a scoff escaped him as he wrapped his fingers around your neck, his nails resting softly against your throat while his thumbs ran up and down the sides of your spine in feathery touches. Slowly, reassuring you of his presence. And the ability to snap your neck with this formidable cut-throat necklace. He readjusted his touch a few times until his pointer fingers pressed against your pulse on one side, your gullet on the other. Enough for you to eat and breathe, but you didn't dare to move your head.
"I shall tell… Garbor, to fetch that for you. Anything else? Another pillow? A new shirt? Would my darling fancy some earrings? We just so happen to have someone donate a wonderful pair of rubies that would look so beautifully dangling from your ears."
A shudder went through you; the word 'donate' was not one to take kindly. People donated to charities and beggars. Not to someone who could put meat on a plate every day for you and obviously had no saintly bone in his body. Gulping down the chicken that got stuck on your tongue as you listened to the sultry voice of your captor, you put down the fork for a moment to think, clearing your throat as best as you could with his hands still pretending to be a necklace.
"A candle maybe, and a book. I feel like now's a great time to pick up a new hobby."
You heard the grin spread on Astarion's lips as he chuckled, his thumbs curling inwards until you felt his nails press against your skin. "I do so very like those entertaining ideas of yours, sweetling. But alas, I'm afraid I cannot give you that. You'd end up preferring the book over my company!"
"How could I ever, Sir? I wasn't planning on going on a paper diet."
This time, he actually burst out into laughter, hands disappearing into the darkness as you presumed he held his stomach from the ache of amusement. You wasted no time to stuff two more bites into your mouth as long as you had the freedom that was oh-so short-lived. His hands banging on the table in front of you created an explosive sound in the small confinement you called home. Compared to the cold body pressed against you, his breath skimmed your ear warmly, his voice like honey dripping right into your ear.
"That's why you're my favorite. Those little witty comments of yours have saved you so many times, you know?"
The food you were so eager to sneak into your mouth now threatened to fall out of it as you couldn't find the strength to swallow. Some instinctual part of you waited for him to attack, exploit your vulnerable self. It readied you, muscles tense, body paying attention to everything it could perceive (which was shamefully little with your senses so inferior to the vampire). But then there was the rational part of your brain, currently occupied with the warmth of his breath gracing your ear and cheek, and his words.
Favorite. You were his favorite.
You forced yourself to finish chewing, slowly, embarrassingly aware of Astarion waiting for another 'witty' remark from his favorite. Favorite late-night amusement? Favorite person to take care of? Favorite blood bag? You felt his eyes drilling into your jaw expectantly as you chewed your food properly before you leaned forward to reach for the cup of water that was unmistakably always on the table. Perhaps because of the darkness, you were so very aware of your hair brushing his nose and the deep inhale it caused Astarion to take before he pressed his face into it, gripping a bunch of it with one hand and forcing you to halt.
"You're my undoing, pet."
"Really?" you said in your most convincing, surprised voice, trying your hardest to sound as fake as possible. Revealing his thoughts to you might have given you a chance to bargain with him, even though this cell and the darkness had long become much safer than anything he could offer. In reality, you knew better than to trust the words of a vampire, yet found yourself truly surprised about the reverence they were spoken with. "It's hard to imagine I could do such a thing. I'm just sitting here."
Astarion hummed, amused, satisfied with your remark once again. Another chance at life, how you noted duly. Perhaps he liked the challenge of you playing his game, neither of you ever speaking the whole truth and coating your words in sarcasm and fake friendliness. Or maybe vampires were accompanied by madness that made them prefer prey who didn't cave as easily into a begging, sobbing mess. Prey like you.
"It's been years—no, decades since I last took a liking in someone, and you have no idea how much I longed for companionship like yours. It's exciting and a bit of a tease. I couldn't bring myself to kill you yet."
"How very gracious of you," you praised, hoping he didn't pay close attention to your face, a grimace edging into your features.
"You know, I might even be convinced to return you to the light. If you ask, nicely."
And suddenly, there it was. You gulped as you felt your stomach twist anxiously, suddenly attacked by something you had long abandoned. Hope. A glimmer of it, at least. You remembered the days when you had still banged at the door, demanding and reasoning with anyone who'd hear you to release and let you go home. The early nights when you dreamed about the sun and the warmth of being surrounded by people. And now the time had finally come to reclaim those wishes, almost bringing you down to your knees.
You knew you couldn't be so foolish as to retort to being a boring, begging nobody. You had to be his favorite. Crawling over the dirty floor and clinging to him for dear life wasn't going to cut it, no matter how much you wanted to. Because yes! Yes to the surface, yes to leaving all of this behind. Escaping him would be much easier when you weren't locked in the darkness. You had waited so long for the sweet embrace of death and endured so much pain when you were forced to survive pitifully like this. You even became his favorite. And now it was paying off—if you played your cards right.
"Ah… I don't know," you sighed. You could hear your own voice, thin and nervous. Excited. Your mouth was dry, but your heart was banging against your rips. Undoubtedly, he knew that, but you hoped Astarion would forgive your very appropriate reaction. Maybe even fancy it.
Every flinch of your muscles and every word carefully uttered was driven by a hope that Astarion could easily crush if he disapproved. You never saw yourself as exceptionally talented with words, but if that was what he wanted, he should have it. Your mom would scold you for being a brat, but this vampire here favored your attitude enough to keep you alive, so it had to be good for something. "I was just starting to get comfortable here. It's so… cozy."
"Well, I have it cozy up there as well. Cushioned chairs and silk sheets—only the best for my best."
It was strange to hear his voice in the same tone as his usual banter, even though you could detect another tone swinging in the background. It was but an insignificant waver, one of uncertainty and doubt. Desperation. Maybe not as much as you, but he wanted you to agree, his reasons unclear. And yet, your heart setting out a beat must have given away that you recognized his wish since he added, "You were always a marvel. But imagine how good you'd look by my side up there. My consort. My favorite."
"W-Well, are the beds soft?" you pressed out quickly, trying to avoid the sensual allure of his voice being murmured into your ear. You didn't mean to stutter, biting your own tongue before deciding to calm yourself with deep, quiet breaths that you hoped he didn't notice. But you knew that everything he said went straight to the unreasonable part of your mind, the one a vampire knew to manipulate so well. But in your desire to get out of here, eagerness and giving in too easily could cost you everything.
"Very," he mused, and you were relieved to hear him still in good spirits, his next words almost a lilt. "Soft and warm. Like you."
"And the food?" you asked, gulping. You didn't care for the beds or the food.
"Oh, the food!"
His exclamation caught you by surprise, as did the sudden disappearance of his body. For a moment, you thought you had ruined your chance. Had gone too far with your hesitance. But next you knew, you felt his hand fall to your shoulder again, running down your arm until he had your wrist in his palm, lifting it to his face. Astarion planted one kiss below your thumb, then moved on to kissing the pulse beneath it.
"It's delightful! Delectable! The best you ever had. And me for dessert. You won't lack anything, I promise."
His promise meant very little to you, and yet, as he littered your wrist with kisses, you couldn't help but cave. It was everything about this situation, the hope, the reverent kisses, the empty promises, that blinded you from the danger. You hadn't questioned his intentions or the price you'd have to pay. Not when he spoke to you as if he was laying the world at your feet, promising you the moon, the stars, and everything beyond.
"Ask me, pet, and you can have it all. The luxuries, the world, me. All you have to do is ask, darling."
There they were, the simple, honeyed words every human wanted to hear. All feeding into your own desperation so perfectly as if they were made just for you. As if you were the only suffering fool in this world, and perhaps to Astarion, you were. The grin curling his lips upwards against your wrist revealed just how much of a fool he took you for when you opened your mouth again.
"I…" you hesitated. But not long enough. You had too much to lose, despite not knowing what you were going to lose agreeing to this. "I want to go to the surface."
"Do you now?" he smirked, and you felt the hard edge of his teeth as his lips parted in a wide grin.
"I want to, Sir. I want to be your favorite. I want to be by your side. Please take me with you."
For a moment, there was silence, then Astarion let out a hum of satisfaction followed by a deep breath.
"Oh, you are, darling. You are my favorite. I've longed for this moment for so long, yearned for it every damned day and night, and finally, it's here. Let's be together forever, alright? It'll hurt only a little, and then we'll always be together."
"What will hurt?" you asked before you felt the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your arm. You knew this pain, the searing burn of his fangs piercing your skin. You had felt it a hundred times, no, a thousand. But this one was short-lived, blood dripping from your hand as you bit your lip, holding back the tears. No one liked tears, and you were too close to your goal to ruin it now.
"Endure it," he purred, and it was almost a shame that he noticed, considering how much you fought yourself to keep your composure. "You'll have to bare this beautiful neck of yours if you want to be mine, darling."
There was another moment of hesitation, the taut skin of your neck always hurting the most if he bit it. But why even did he have to bite you? What good were two more bites of you in this dark cell when he could assume you'd be at his beck and call upstairs as well? Astarion couldn't know of your feeble escape plans yet, so he had no reason to doubt your devotion. And even if he did, wouldn't he enjoy feeding from you in one of the more comfortable beds he mentioned?
But pondering was of no use to you. You had to comply if you wanted your dreams to come true. Turning towards him and laying your head to the side, you could feel your hair fall out of the way, baring your neck so beautifully. "Yes, Sir," was your short, meager reply, and yet your arm immediately fell to your side, one of Astarion's hands wrapping around the back of your head while the other weighed down on your shoulder, keeping you in place.
"That's a good pet," he mumbled, face inching closer to your body with every spoken word. You braced yourself for the pain, the burning, the mess it would make, and you took it like a champ, which you probably were after all those bites—at first. However, all the bites before eventually ended. They never lasted more than a few minutes at worst. But not this one, and that's when you realized your mistake.
You gasped as you reached for him, grabbing his clothes like a lifeline to hold onto. Tears fell freely as the pain didn't stop, your body growing lighter while Astarion had little problems keeping you in place. "It hurts!" you sobbed as your thoughts became less reasonable, less controlled. Everything began to swim, and though you were sitting, you felt like you were going to fall. But even as you struggled to stay conscious, Astarion didn't stop, didn't care.
By the time you realized you were going to die, it was already much too late. Your life was drained out of you with all of your blood. At least you didn't have to feel the pain of your crushed hope or the desperation of, once again, being stuck in this cold and lonely darkness. If you were honest, you looked forward to escaping all of this, as had been your destiny for so long. At least this way, you'd be free, too. Differently than you thought, but free nonetheless.
"Mhm, darling. Even now, you're ravishingly beautiful."
You could hear the voice, but your body had no blood left to supply your brain, so it could understand anything. You didn't even feel his uncharacteristically warm fingers smear a thick fluid to your lips, slipping in to coat your tongue, reflexes working even when you were as good as dead.
"And you're mine. All mine."
At least you wouldn't have to die in this dark cell, though you had no strength left to think about what shithole you'd be thrown into instead. Your body was but a sack of skin and bones in his arms as he carried you outside, your head empty like your blood vessels. But even as you lay dying in Astarion's arms, getting carried away, you knew one thing for sure: You hated it. The pain and the blood. The cold and this evil man that had held you like a cattle for so long only to kill you just like everyone else in the end. You hated him. You hated everything.
And most, you hated the darkness that continued to surround you, enveloping you mercilessly as it cooperated with your murderer. Unaware that you, too, were meant to succumb to it. That your dying body was changing into that of a child of the night, a spawn to the very same lonely vampire you so willingly promised eternity to in exchange for what you believed had been your path to 'freedom'. The same freedom you'd never have now.
Because you were his favorite.
And he'd never let his favorite spawn leave.
#astarion#astarion bg3#yandere astarion#yandere!astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#yandere bg3#yandere!bg3#yandere#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere fanfiction#yandere writing#yandere stories#yandere oneshots#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#Yandere TW
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The JJk fandom has some INCREDIBLE writers and artists and I just felt like showing a bit of love so here are some of my fave Satosugu fics!!!
Audience by @c-valentino
"Three years after the KFC breakup, Satoru caves and visits his old friend late at night with a problem. They are far from what they used to be, but when he hopes they might get a second chance after all, assassins show up to hunt down Suguru."
As you like it by planetarypedxng
"Ieiri Shoko has laid down the law: the three of them will hereafter hang out only at Geto’s place, because Geto is the perfect host, and because Shoko refuses to clean up after anyone, least of all men, and because Gojo’s room always disgustingly reeks of sex.
Gojo had laughed at that, a little too loudly, perhaps, and curiously did not have a single comment about it. What can he say? The truth? That he was still a virgin?"
Falling in love is easy. Admitting it is not. By @ellionwrites
"At 20 years old - sharing an apartment and joint Jujutsu missions - Geto and Gojo are inseparable. But it takes Geto going on a first date for them to start to figure out their feelings."
Two sorcerers chillin' in a hot tub (five feet apart cause they’re not gay) by @hollow-lime-green
"Geto Suguru has almost two decades of practice pretending not to see things that are clearly there, and Gojo Satoru has a well-documented history of being the most socially-stunted motherfucker alive.
That’s how they got here.
Love is in the hands by @thequeenofsarcaasm
That’s also why neither of them know where the hell they’re going with this."
To be a woman by @sadgreekboys
"After getting kicked from his home for being queer, Geto Suguru comes across his old best friend/first love, in a gay bar. He finds a new home in him."
close your eyes (nothing changed at all) by themoonisdead
"Satoru is the strongest. She is a woman. She is not meant to be those two things at the same time.
VIRGIN GETS WRECKED BY BEST FRIEND [FREE PORN VIDS] (18++) WATCH NOW!!!!! By Daisy__dupes
"That day in xx village, suguru makes a call" -what if Suguru had called Satoru for help that day?
Over the Threshold by @fushiglow
(Satoru gets hit with a sex curse and asks Suguru to help him!!!)
4AM by damiselart
"Larger than life K-pop idol, Satoru, approaches introverted record producer, Getō Suguru, to collaborate on his debut Japanese-language studio album. They both get more out of the experience than expected — for better and for worse."
(Tattoo artist Geto and model Gojo. Hot as fuck.)
Post-It Notes by monochromevelyn
"Shoko was sick of watching her two best friends pining for each other. Don't worry, she had a plan to move things in the right direction."
The Two-Headed Calf by malneiro
"Gojo gets a knock on his door late at night: Getou is sick and Mimiko and Nanako don't know who else to turn to."
Vows to Amida Butsu -
" Gojo has a great idea. Geto thinks his classmate should at least ask him cutely instead of just announcing his intent. Consent is important, after all."
and Long Bitter Autumn - both by Daphnerunning and Galiko
"Five years after his best friend left Jujutsu High to become an evil overlord, Gojo Satoru can't sleep. And there's not THAT much difference between a butt dial and a booty call, semantically speaking."
There are so many amazing satosugu fics and most of the writers listed here have multiple incredible fics but these are just some of my absolute faves!!!
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Whumpuary Day 9-10
Prompt: “Stay. Please.”
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of injuries
A/N: This one is just a drabble. I was not in a great mood when I wrote it and it probably reflects that. I’m sorry for the subpar work. I hope you still love me.😭
gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams
“Daryl, she needs you.” Carol implored, blocking the infirmary exit. The archer tried to side-step but the woman just knew him too well and moved with him.
“Damnit, move!” Daryl all but roared at his best friend. He knew she meant well, he did. But he had to stop them. He couldn’t let them hurt anyone else. He’d failed enough by allowing them to get to you. It was eating him alive. He didn’t know how else to deal with the guilt. It was fueling his rage like gasoline on a fire.
“You’re not thinking straight!”
“M’thinkin’ jus’ fine! Move, Carol!”
“You can’t go out there like this!”
“I can’ believe this! Ya saw wha’ they did ta ‘er!”
“And that’s why you need to stay!”
“Nah, tha’s why I gotta—”
“Daryl.” Your voice was low, strained. It was weak. But he heard it. Of course he heard it. The archer didn’t give Carol a second glance when he crossed the space to you in two long strides. The silver-haired woman walked behind him with her arms crossed, eyes rolled. She knew all it would take was your specific persuasion to calm Daryl down. She was only hoping to hold him off long enough for you to awaken.
“Hey, m’right here.” He sat down on the edge of your bed in the infirmary, his hip pressed against yours. You looked so small, fragile in the large bed. Pale and bruised with stitched lacerations and butterfly sutures. “Yer gon’ be okay, ya hear me?”
Your smile was tired and small but it was genuine. “I know I am.” You opened your hand and he took it immediately, pressing his lips to your busted knuckles. “I know I am because you’ll be here to protect me, won’t you?” You blinked slowly and watched his expression fall.
“Ya know I gotta—”
“You don’t gotta do anything.” He looked like he might start to argue so you began to sit up, wincing with an arm around your middle to brace your broken ribs. Daryl was all don’ do that and stay still but you showed him what it felt like for your pleas to be ignored. Finally upright, you panted while Carol rushed to lift the head of the bed for you. You could breathe easier sitting up. You could also look your husband in the eye properly. “All you need to do is be here with me until a plan can be made.”
Carol smirked, seeing the very moment Daryl’s resolve began to crumble. When he glanced at her, most likely for backup he knew he’d never get, she was quick to turn her head, her smile hidden behind her hand.
He sighed, deeply but not yet resigned. “I can’ jus’—”
“Stay.” You whispered, bringing the hand that was still holding yours to your cheek. “Stay. Please.”
And that was that.
Carol closed the door behind her just as Daryl situated himself on the bed with you so you could settle against his chest. When it came to Daryl Dixon, there was nothing anyone could say or do once he had set his mind on something. Except she now had a secret weapon.
You.
Taglist:
@thegeorgiahuntsman @livingdeadblondequeen @feral4daryl @deansapplepie @walker-bait-1973 @lazyneonrabbitt @bizquake @littlelovingideas @ririi-3 @ankhmutes @blackvelveteen1339 @sokkasimp101 @lehhos @loganlostitall @callmeyn @she-who-writes-for-multi-fandoms @gutsby @isakyakiisak @in-this-minute @eljaynosine_triphosphate @abbyreedus @wifeof-barnes @bigbaldheadname @bananafire11 @graciepies @georgiadixon @esgoraths @hutchersonsgurl @she-could-never @Kenzimae67 @nessa-mayfield @ilovedilfs4eversthings @KatelynAngel @richardsamboramylove55 @m0ss-g0blin @annhells @abi67sblog @nessieart @imgeorgeclooney @brinteylovesaliens @eduardast4rgirl @ass-butt-themusical @daryldixmedown @willowaftxn83-87 @ashtonbabe @atyourmomshouse01 @dixonzzgirl @unhingedbiatch @bultamer @lumimon47
#whumpuary2024#whumpuaryno5#“stay. please.”#injuries#the walking dead#fic#daryl dixon#daryl dixon x wife!reader#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon walking dead#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl drabbles#daryl dixon drabbles#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon twd#daryl twd#daryl x y/n#the walking dead daryl dixon#twd daryl dixon#daryl x you#daryl x female reader
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Idiot
Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen
Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI (18+ only)
Genre: Angst/Smut
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader
Tags: Heartbreak, Oral Sex, Hookups, Fucking your crush's brother, Bickering, Creampie, Slight Themes of SA, Sadistic Sukuna, Sukuna is his own warning, Female Reader, Hair Pulling, Painful Sex, Hate/Revenge Sex (sorta), Complicated Dynamics
Wordcount: 4.6k
Yuuji- your crush of two years- was dating someone else. The news was like a slap to the face. Honestly, though, you should have expected it. He was sweet, kind, and a little dense in an endearing way. He’d caught your eye the moment you two had met and hit it off, becoming fast friends. Your affection had grown into something more, but you’d tried to take things slow, not wanting to ruin your friendship.
You'd lost your chance... but Sukuna had gained one.
Cross-posted from my AO3 account.
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The parking lot on the side of the bar was full of cars and litter, the latter of which you kicked at with a foot as you plopped onto a bench thrown haphazardly against the outside wall as an afterthought. The air was still and warm, inky blackness above hazed out by the light pollution of the city, obscuring all but the brightest few stars breaking through. The noise of the bar you’d left moments ago leaked out into the streets that were alive with the nightlife of downtown, tangling into a comforting cacophony. It would have been a perfect night if not for the bitter memory that was replaying over and over in your head as you tugged on your earrings- a self-soothing habit that had appeared the moment you’d pierced them.
“I heard you’re dating someone, Yuuji.”
Your friend’s face lit up in excited bashfulness as he grinned, ducking his head shyly. You’d nearly choked on your drink, holding a napkin to your face as your visage filled with disbelief and thinly veiled horror. Yuuji pulled out his phone to show a picture of the lucky girl, which only twisted the knife in your chest, but you smiled when he turned to you.
“She’s very pretty!” you forced out, beaming a little too widely to cover the stricken look on your face.
“Yeah,” Yuuji agreed, “She asked me out a few months ago and we’ve been dating. I finally asked her to be my girlfriend yesterday and she said yes!”
Yuuji- your crush of two years- was dating someone else. The news was like a slap to the face. Honestly, though, you should have expected it. He was sweet, kind, and a little dense in an endearing way. He’d caught your eye the moment you two had met and hit it off, becoming fast friends. Your affection had grown into something more, but you’d tried to take things slow, not wanting to ruin your friendship.
And now you’d lost your chance.
You’d made up a lame excuse about stepping out for some air, leaving the crowd of friends and mutual acquaintances behind to find your thoughts and breath outside where it wasn’t as suffocating. You didn’t smoke, but tonight you wished you did so you would have something for your mouth to do aside from pull into a tight line as you held back the dam threatening to break.
In retrospect, you had no place to be so upset with the way things had turned out.
You’d dropped hints, which became more and more obvious over time, until you felt like you had been parading around with a sign saying, “please date me, I like you”. You’d even been teased by a few of your friends, but you were determined to have him notice and ask you out. If you’d just been direct with Yuuji and asked him out like his girlfriend had-
You grimaced at the nausea welling up at the word “girlfriend” and “Yuuji’s” in the same sentence. It left a sour taste in your mouth.
“Your face is going to get stuck like that.”
You whipped your head towards the figure that had appeared nearby, standing on the far side of the bench. For a brief moment you thought it was Yuuji, heart fluttering, before your eyes caught on the dark tattoos lining the angular jawline. Your hopeful face fell a bit upon realizing it was Sukuna, Yuuji’s elder brother. The two could be identical twins with their pink hair and similar features, except that Sukuna sported tattoos across his larger frame and had the exact opposite personality of his brother. Whereas Yuuji was sweet- basically sunshine personified- Sukuna was barbed with sharp words and held an aura of danger, issuing a threat and a challenge with his narrowed eyes and cocky demeanor.
How the two were related was beyond you.
“And?” you finally found your voice and replied to the man, sighing and leaning back. “I don’t care.”
“You should, since you won’t get a guy with that kind of attitude.”
You scowled at him. Sukuna barely talked to you when you hung around Yuuji at their apartment, so why was he picking on you right now?
“Who says I’m trying to get a guy?”
Sukuna scoffed.
“I’m not blind. I know why you’re out here.”
Your heart fell into your toes and your shoulders pulled up towards your ears in shame. Of course Yuuji’s aloof yet observant older brother would have picked up on your little crush. Yuuji seemed to be the only one who had missed it apparently, if those pitying looks you’d caught out of the corner of your eye earlier had been anything to go by.
“He’s an idiot,” Sukuna continued in the absence of a reply.
He leaned lazily against the brick exterior of the building; his leather jacket slung over one shoulder in the heat of the night. Why he even brought a fucking leather jacket was beyond you. Probably because he thought he was “cool”. You scoffed a little to yourself, bitterness oozing through all your emotions.
You couldn’t deny he looked a little cool…
“Whatever,” you mumbled, resting your chin on your palm.
“You’re seriously moping about your little crush not getting your piss-poor attempts for flirting through his thick head?”
“Are you trying to pick a fight?”
You pushed yourself up to cross your arms and glower at Sukuna. He sure knew how to get under your skin, even if you’d only really seen each other in passing.
“You’re the one getting all bent out of shape over Yuuji getting a girlfriend,” Sukuna laughed, and it grated on your nerves. “Which is pretty pathetic if you ask me.”
“Pathetic?”
Sukuna grinned, leaning over you. The way he held himself, the way his eyes lit up with delight at the way he’d forced you to crane your neck up at him, the way his words needled you: it all felt like he was toying with you. It pissed you off. You narrowed your eyes.
“You can’t even ask some kid three years your junior out, of course it’s pathetic.”
He leaned down until there was only a hairs breadth between your noses. He was so close you could smell his cologne. If you hadn’t been focused on burning two holes into his skull you might have missed the way his eyes flickered down to your lips for a fraction of a second. It caught you off guard.
“Bold words from someone who probably wouldn’t be able to get a girl in bed if he begged on his knees.”
“That’s because I don’t beg,” Sukuna’s lips pulled back to reveal sharp canines.
You resisted the urge to shudder- whether from fear or a thrill you couldn’t be sure.
“Too bad,” you cocked your head to the side. “You’d look good on your knees.”
The words coming out of your mouth surprised you a little. Usually, you kept thoughts like those to yourself, but your tongue was loose tonight and you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit.
Sukuna’s smile widened alongside his eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he appeared almost gleeful. The strength of his gaze pinned you in place while his words prickled along your spine.
“And here I thought you’d be boring.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
This time your eyes flickered down to his lips briefly.
Sukuna intrigued you. You hadn’t bothered to pay him much mind aside from cordiality when he was around, which he seldom returned. Your focus had been on being head-over-heels for Yuuji. Now, you took the time to take in his wide shoulders, flinty red eyes, and- holy shit was he wearing acrylics? The black, claw-like nails tipping each of his fingers drew your attention as he shifted his jacket to the other shoulder, still crowding himself into your personal space.
“So you just put on an act to appeal to my baby brother?” Sukuna asked.
You crossed your arms, looking away. You took a minute, trying to decide how to phrase what you wanted to say in a way that wouldn’t have Sukuna laughing at you. No matter how you diced it, it still sounded stupid to say out loud.
“I just toned-down things that I thought might… make him uncomfortable or scare him off.”
The man snorted, this time slipping his arms into the jacket he was holding instead of shifting it again.
“If you have to hide yourself to make yourself palatable, then how is the other person supposed to know if they actually like you?”
You hated being lectured by Sukuna, but he was right- not that you’d ever give him the satisfaction of knowing you agreed.
“So we should all be prickly and annoying like you?” you shot back.
“Is that what you think of me?”
You looked him up and down, feigning disinterest as he curled one side of his mouth up. You resisted the urge to slip your hand along his jawline, to run your thumb along his bottom lip.
“You have a habit of picking fights and teasing people. I’d hardly say that’s endearing.”
Sukuna’s hand darted out to grab your chin, tilting it up towards him while he looked down his nose at you, head cocked. You didn’t rip your face away, waiting to see what he would say next and relishing in the way his hand felt against your skin.
“I never set out to be endearing, sweetheart,” his words were condescending, but the gravelly undertones made you curl your toes inside your shoes as you wet your lips. His thumb rested lazily on your chin, and your mouth had moved before you could properly think, swallowing his digit.
Sukuna’s eyes widened as they locked on your lips, your tongue laving delicately around his sharp nail and caressing the pad of his thumb. The taste of sweat and skin was sweeter than the alcohol you’d ingested earlier, and you wondered if perhaps you were a little drunk to be enjoying the look on Sukuna’s face as much as you were. You released his finger with an audible pop, eyes still locked onto Sukuna’s.
“Is that how you wanna play it?”
Your insides shivered at his low register. Sukuna threaded his hand in your hair, grabbing a fistful close to the scalp and using it to guide you forcefully through the parking lot. It should have scared you, but for some reason the wires in your brain got crossed and filled you with excitement. Sukuna released your head from his grip, throwing his leg over a motorcycle (okay that was definitely cool) and gesturing for you to hop on.
“No helmet?” you asked, sliding on behind him.
“Do I look like someone who’d wear a helmet?” Sukuna scoffed.
You didn’t have time to answer as something heavy was shoved over your head. After reorienting yourself, you realized it was indeed a helmet. You found purchase around Sukuna’s waist and chest with anxious fingers as the engine roared to life. Sukuna noted your frantic grasp, and the engine revved several times, the vehicle jumping forward in speed until you were clinging to him for dear life as the two of you sped down roads, weaving through traffic.
The asshole was enjoying it.
You realized now why he wore a leather jacket in the middle of summer as a chill dragged itself across your bare arms in the wind whipping by. City lights smeared into each other, leaving a kaleidoscope of colors and shadows to play in your vision as you hunched against Sukuna’s body. Terror gripped your chest as you engaged muscles you didn’t know you possessed to grip onto whatever you could with all your strength. Even through the fear, you noted how lithe Sukuna’s body felt under your fingers. You wondered how it would feel without fabric blocking your skin from touching.
You must be insane.
When the ride came to an end, Sukuna had parked in front of his and Yuuji’s apartment. You fumbled the helmet off while he dismounted, setting it on the empty seat in front of you. Sukuna yanked you from the vehicle with one hand, barely letting you catch your balance before dragging you up the stairs. When you didn’t move fast enough, feet tripping over each other, he hauled you up with one arm, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. An undignified squeal left your mouth before you could help it. You scrabbled to reorient yourself as Sukuna came to a halt in front of his apartment door. Your struggling was rewarded with a sharp slap to your ass, leaving your face burning with humiliation.
What if a neighbor saw?
The squeal of a door opening drew your attention. Inside the apartment, Sukuna slammed the door behind you two, swiftly moving to his room. You were thrown unceremoniously on the bed, bouncing twice from the force. When the brief dizziness subsided, you looked up at the man still standing at the edge of the bed. He had stripped off his jacket, tossing it aside onto a chair somewhere nearby.
“You seemed pretty intent on putting on a little show earlier,” Sukuna leaned forward, resting his hands on the bed. “You all bluff or what?”
Bluff? You wanted to scoff. You didn’t start something you wouldn’t finish. Besides, you had some skills up your sleeve you figured Sukuna didn’t think you possessed- he obviously thought you were some goody-two shoes lovesick idiot. You kicked off your heels, pulling your hair up and retying it out of the way as you got up on your knees.
“Oh?”
Sukuna’s voice was amused. He still thought you were bluffing if his tone was anything to go by. He probably assumed you had seen a porno where a girl had done the same thing. Probably assumed you were a virgin.
Bastard.
You weren’t as inexperienced as he believed you to be. You may have been three years younger than him, but you had slept around a bit. Honestly, you wondered how many girls he pulled anyway with his brusque demeanor.
Your hands worked at his pants as you slid off the bed to get on your knees. Sukuna was already hard, his dick resting heavily in your hand as you pulled him out. He had nothing to be ashamed of, and you started mentally tallying how long it would take you to adjust to him and be able to get most, if not all, down your throat. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy to be gentle even with someone who wasn’t experienced, so you prepared yourself accordingly.
“It ain’t gonna bite ya-” Sukuna’s eye roll was cut off as you licked a stripe from the base of his dick to the tip. He hissed, digging a hand into your hair.
You didn’t dignify him with a reply, too occupied with pressing kisses and kitten licks to the hot skin. You even branched out and kissed the crease where his thigh met his hip, biting at it gently. You could hear a huff of laughter above you.
“I ain’t your lover, no need for all that.”
You were getting sick of his little commentary and swallowed the tip, enjoying the way it forced Sukuna to grit his teeth against a moan. Pulling off you glared up at him.
“How about you shut up and let me do my job,” you dug your thumbnail into his hip, leaving a crescent shaped mark in its wake.
“Didn’t take you for a feisty bitch,” he pulled your head back by your hair.
You couldn’t help the quiet whimper escaping your throat. As much as you wanted to snap a reply, you returned to kissing the skin of his dick, purposefully avoiding the head. He deserved to suffer a little. You could tell he was getting impatient; the hand in your hair was twitching. You dragged your tongue along his length with an excruciating slowness, listening to the way his breath hitched above you.
“If you don’t fucking-”
You enveloped his dick in your hot mouth, effectively cutting off all complaints as you switched from slow and tantalizing to a measured pace. You swirled your tongue around the head, pausing to pay extra attention to the underside of the head. You head bobbed, taking in more of his length each time you went down, gauging your gag reflex with each stroke. You were good until the last inch or so, feeling your throat and chest seize up as your airway was cut off as you went down. You pulled off completely to catch your breath, risking a glance up at Sukuna.
The sight went straight to your core.
Sukuna’s eyes were lidded, face flushed with pleasure, and mouth parted as he panted. There was a conflicted look on his face that quickly morphed into a scowl when he realized you were looking up at him.
“Did I say to stop?”
You couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto your face. He was acting like a petulant child- a brat. You wrapped a hand around his dick- still slick with your spit- and began stoking languidly, smiling sweetly up at him.
“That’s not how you ask for things you want, is it?”
“You’re a fucking tease,” Sukuna growled, shoving your face towards his dick with the hand still buried in your locks.
“I know,” you pressed a kiss to the tip, still stroking him. “Now why don’t you ask nicely?”
Sukuna hauled you up by your hair, pressing a vicious kiss against your mouth, teeth catching on your lips and drawing a bead of blood. Your body was forced onto the bed, his arms caging you in. His breathing was labored enough to prove you had an effect on him, which pleased you.
“Like hell I’ll beg,” he clamped down on the juncture between your shoulder and neck.
You bit back your groan of pleasure as a thrill ran over your skin. Your body was stripped of clothes in an instant, his hands holding your hips in place as he situated himself between your legs. He didn’t bother checking if you were wet, or to even attempt any kind of foreplay. You narrowed your eyes.
“Well I can see why you can’t keep a girlfriend,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.
Sukuna paused. He looked irritated.
“What the hell makes you say that?”
“You think one kiss and a hickey makes a girl wet enough for you to slide in?” you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Especially since you aren’t wearing a fucking condom and I doubt you have lube laying around.”
Sukuna didn’t have the decency to look ashamed, his frown growing wider.
“Well what the fuck do you want me to do?”
“You could try finding the clit, but I doubt you’d be able to,” you flopped down onto your back, disappointment heavy in your chest.
You didn’t know why you’d expected a selfish asshole to be able to please a woman, but you thought he had to know at least a little. You were feeling shitty enough as it was with how the night had gone down, and you probably wouldn’t even be able to get off.
You jumped a little when a hand brushed over your neatly trimmed curls, Sukuna’s thumb bumping against your hood. A whine escaped your throat when he gently pulled it back, sliding across your sensitive nub.
“What was that about not finding your clit?”
You did your best to scowl at him, but his thumb was moving in paced circles, leaving you squirming.
“Shut up,” you bit out. “If a girl has to tell y-ah!”
Sukuna was a touch clumsy, but it wasn’t bad by any means. You lost yourself in the sensation, the coil in your stomach starting to wind as you felt the need to be filled growing stronger with each pass of his finger.
“You wet enough now?”
The words drew you back to the present and you looked at Sukuna, eyes lidded. You were placated enough to nod, watching as he lined himself up. He held no qualms when it came to shoving himself in, not giving you time to adjust. Your back arched and your fingers dug into the dark bedsheets, teeth gritting against the sudden intrusion. There was no time to catch your breath. Sukuna set the pace hard and fast, short cries leaving your lips with each thrust.
The man had strength and stamina, you had to admit. His grip on your hips left red marks from how hard he held them. The drag of his length against your insides had your eyes rolling back into your skull.
God, it had been a while since you’d been fucked hard and fast like this. Even when you did hook up with someone, it was usually over quickly. Sukuna showed no signs of slowing and hadn’t blown his load in the first few pumps, which was a win in and of itself, but you were growing more and more impressed as he manhandled you over onto your hands and knees.
“Fuck, and here I thought you were a virgin,” Sukuna grunted as you keened, back arched and ass pressed back against him. “But you’ve-nngh!- obviously done this before.”
Your face was buried in the mattress, but you turned your head to the side to look behind you at the tattooed man rearranging your guts with a gaze split between irritation and debauchery.
“You think a virgin could’ve sucked your dick like that?”
Every other word was punctuated with a gasp as he hammered into you with ferocity. He didn’t seem to like your back talk, shoving your head back down into the sheets and angling himself deeper until your muffled cries turned from pleasure to borderline pain. You tapped frantically on the arm holding your head down, but were ignored. The repeated assault on your cervix did nothing to make you feel good, instead causing painful cramps with each thrust.
Sukuna finally relented, flipping you back over. You were pissed off, face contorted into anger.
“That hurt,” you hissed, kicking at him.
“Don’t be so sensitive, Christ,” Sukuna grabbed your leg and hauled it over his shoulder. “Just take it like a good little whore.”
The tone he took only made your irritation grow, and you tried to kick him off with your other leg, which was quickly commandeered as well. Sukuna folded you back over on yourself, legs over his shoulders.
“Stop whining and just enjoy it,” he snapped at you. “God, I wouldn’t have brought you back if I’d know you’d be this picky about how you get fucked.”
His nose was brushing yours now as you faced him. Your frown and lowered brows were mirrored above you in Sukuna’s features. The snap of his hips against yours grew pleasant again now that you weren’t in pain, and the frown disappeared as your lip snagged between your teeth in a muffled whimper.
“Better?” Sukuna asked sarcastically, although you could tell he was holding back a moan.
“That feels good,” you conceded, trying to sink back into the pleasant feeling that had eluded you earlier.
“You’re prettier to look at when you aren’t bitching,” Sukuna panted, lowering his lips to yours to cut off any indignant reply.
His lips were hot against yours, tongue invading your mouth with insistence. You replied in kind, nipping at his lower lip.
“And you’re not half bad when you aren’t being an asshole,” you breathed when the two of you pulled back.
“That so?” Sukuna snapped his hips against yours.
The choked off cry that left your chest seemed to please the man, and he repeated the action. Each moan was like honey in his ears.
Yuuji really lost out on this girl, Sukuna grinned, biting the soft skin of your inner thigh.
Since the moment you’d started showing up at the apartment to hang with his brother, Sukuna had his eye on you. Your obvious crush on Yuuji had irritated him. Yuuji was just so fucking dense. The kid wouldn’t have noticed you wanted him if you’d splayed yourself out on his bed in lingerie. Sukuna had half a mind to tell his brother, but found he enjoyed watching you struggle to get the attention you so desired. Besides, if Yuuji rejected you, that meant that he wouldn’t see you around anymore, and Sukuna hadn’t liked that idea. But Yuuji started dating someone else, and that left you hung out to dry. Sukuna had wondered how long it would take for the news to spread and your heart to be shattered.
Maybe he was a shit person for waiting around eagerly to see you slink dejectedly out of the bar so he could sink his teeth into you. You’d taken his bait, and even seemed interested in him.
Women with broken hearts were easy to snag.
But you’d thrown him for a loop. The demure, shy girl he'd witnessed yearning for his brother was nowhere to be found. You were demanding, argumentative, and gave him shit. Normally he wouldn’t have entertained the kind of behavior you’d thrown at him. His own pride and stubbornness lent him to toss out anyone who didn’t just comply, but he couldn’t bring himself to make you leave even after your scathing comments about his supposed incompetence in turning you on. He reluctantly gave into your desires, although he couldn’t help his sadistic streak when it came to punishing you for the words you’d cut him with. He reveled in the way he could silence your complaints by drowning them in pleasure.
“S’kuna!”
Hearing his name paired with the way you clenched around him had Sukuna gritting his teeth in an attempt to stave off his impending orgasm. Your legs had gone rigid, shaking with exertion as you writhed against him.
Sukuna, in an uncharacteristic act of kindness, moved his hand down to your clit, carefully flicking it with his finger while you held back a wail. Your coherence was quickly disappearing the closer you sped towards your release, and Sukuna was determined to have you finish first. Amid the panting and groaning, through the haze of his mounting ecstasy, he heard the front door rattle as it shut.
Yuuji must be home.
Sukuna couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread over his features as he redoubled his efforts. Your cries grew louder as your back arched and his name fell from your pretty lips, crashing into his ears with a sweet whine. The second he felt you spasm around him, Sukuna was unable to hold back any longer. Your insides were painted with white, Sukuna still thrusting into you through it all as curses flew from his mouth.
Your chest heaved, covered by a sheen of sweat in the receding afterglow, Sukuna’s body still enveloping yours in a crushing embrace. He rolled off of you when you whimpered, tapping his shoulder. The air in the room was crushingly hot and humid. Sukuna pulled his boxers on, immediately heading to the door. He didn’t even give you time to cover yourself before he flung it open, crossing his arms and raising his brows.
Yuuji was standing in the hallway, rooted to the spot with a flush across his entire face, whether from being caught eavesdropping on the situation, or for some other reason. His eyes were the size of saucers, mouth agape as he stared past his brother at where you lay, suddenly snapped back down to earth and reaching for something to provide you with a modicum of modesty.
“It’s late, you should get to bed,” Sukuna didn’t bother to even close the door a bit to block Yuuji from looking in, as if he was gloating.
“W-why is Y/N-”
“Because,” Sukuna’s face filled with malicious pleasure. His chin lifted so he could look down his nose at the horrified face of his younger brother. “You're an idiot, and I’m not.”
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Ugh. I have to say it. I’ve been holding it back because I know how much fandom hates this plot point so much. And like maybe it’s because I enjoy angst, or because characters coming in a vacuum sealed ‘morally upstanding’ package is just not realistic or enjoyable to me.
But Gwen should not have been ‘bewitched’ to cheat on Arthur with Lancelot. For one, it just sets another horrible precedence of magic use within the narrative. And two: it’s boring as hell. Oh, and also apparently Gwen was only allowed screen time in later seasons when her autonomy was nowhere to be seen. So three. Three reasons why I find it dumb as hell. And one that last front? Yeah, I think she should have willingly had an affair with Lancelot. I know, I Know. Cheating bad. Cheating make evil wrong person. Or whatever twitterinas are saying.
But hear me out (or don’t). How did Gwen feel after Lancelot died after she made him promise to return Arthur to her alive? Did she feel that she had unwittingly sentenced him to death? Her first true love; the man she looked for in other men. (Maybe we’d know how she felt if the writers didn’t have her going off like a broken record and just keep repeating what a great king Artie would someday be). I wish we had seen her grief, I wish she had been given time to mourn (as we know she never is in a series that kills every family member she has). And then Lancelot returns. She realizes she stills loves him, she feels guilty and blames herself thinking she had a part in his death. She thinks she asked him to sacrifice himself. And she wonders if she made the right choice. Lancelot and Arthur are there before her, and her wedding is in two days, and it’s all so sudden and the window of opportunity is about to be closed for the rest of her life; and she wonders if she’s chosen the right man. Gwen wonders if she’s been given a second chance, can she amend her previous choices. Does she want to amend them. Yes, this storyline opens her up to all sorts of criticisms. Fandom would condemn her a slut, she would join the ranks of women who can’t just make up their damn mind. Someone would declare it’s anti-feminist, because women aren’t allowed to be portrayed with “bad” qualities and when they are it just sets us all back.
But…it would be so much more nuanced than the plot they gave us. It would give Gwen the opportunity to make the choice because in the past it had been robbed from her (Lancelot leaving when he realized that Arthur loved Gwen, and Lancelot dying the first time). It would grant her autonomy over her own sexuality and choice of partner(s). Unlike the male protagonists in this show, Gwen is never actually given a real chance to morally grapple with anything, especially her own actions. She just is a good person who never does anything wrong, can be a bad-ass if it’s required, and falls into the straight and narrow path of ideal womanhood when she gets a boyfriend in a position of extreme power.
I know I’m barely making sense, but she just could have been written so much better. She could have been treated like a real person in the writers room, but she wasn’t.
#bbc merlin#gwen merlin#bbc gwen#guinevere#gwenhwyfar#guinevere pendragon#lancelot bbc#guinevere x lancelot#gwencelot#arthur pendragon#lancelot du lac#will probably edit later#i kept getting interrupted while trying to write this#angel coulby
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hallo >:]
i would like to request the prompt :
“Oh, excuse me for freaking out. I only thought you were dead!”
for narumi gen from kaiju no.8
and any gender would be fine!
A LONG ROAD TO RECOVERY
Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!
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Prompt: “Oh, excuse me for freaking out. I only thought you were dead!”
Fandom(s): Kaiju No. 8
Pairing(s): Narumi Gen x Reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Angst, Hospitals, Injuries, Minor Arguments
Notes: Combining this with another request that is exactly the same :)
This is likely medically inaccurate, but pls bear with me.
__________________________________________________________________________
The beeping of hospital machines was driving you up the wall. But it also brought you solace in that it showed that the man you loved was still alive.
It had been three days since he slipped into a coma.
You sat beside him the entire time, holding Gen’s hand as the ventilator breathed for him. His army of machines did a variety of things. Things like the ventilator, which inflated his lungs. He had a chest tube placed to drain fluid building around his lungs. There was a catheter to drain his bladder. There were multitudes of other machines and devices, all to help Gen stay alive.
But no one knew when he’d wake up.
If he’d even wake up.
A frantic beeping awoke you from your doze.
When did you fall asleep?
You look up at the machines and barely have time to comprehend the sight of his heart monitor lit up in a frenzy.
It’s flatlining.
Gen is dying.
You let out a cry and dive for the blue button next to his bed, slamming your thumb onto it and hearing the call for a “Code Blue in room G342. Code Blue in room G343” just outside in the hall. A flood of nurses and doctors come in, and you are pushed out.
“Please! You have to save him!” You beg, and a nurse you vaguely recognize from seeing in the hallways offers a kind smile.
“We’ll do everything we can. But you need to stand back and let us work.” She says quickly before Gen’s hospital room door slides shut behind her.
You are forced to wait in the waiting room as Gen is wheeled in for emergency surgery after they get his heartbeat back.
They didn’t say what it was for—maybe they did—but you had signed the necessary forms regardless, seeing as you were Gen’s significant other and he had no other family.
You sit with your head in your hands, your breathing quick and gasping and panicky as you wait for any sort of news from the medical staff working to save his life. As you sit there, you can’t help but wish he hadn’t been called in for the most recent kaiju attack. Because while yes, he vanquished the monster, it left him in this sort of state.
He was going to get an earful when he woke up.
If he woke up, that is…
Your name being called snaps you from your reverie. You had been zoning out, not thinking about anything but what you were going to say to Gen if he ever recovered. But as you jolted out of your thoughts, you checked the clock and realized that hours had passed. No one was in the waiting room except you and a nurse behind the receptionist's desk, who looked like he wanted to go home.
Well… you two and the doctor you recognized as the man who had wheeled the crash cart into the room when Gen was actively coding.
You were on your feet in seconds before you even registered standing up.
“How is he?” You demanded when the doctor approached. He gestured for you to follow him,
“We’ll talk on the way. But he’s asking for you.”
He was asking for you.
So he was alive?
Your knees felt weak, and you actually caught yourself on the wall.
“So he’s alive?” You whisper, and the doctor gives you a warm smile.
“He’s a fighter, that’s for sure. Now, follow me, I’ll take you to him.”
Gen is already awake and sitting up in bed when you get to the hospital room. A flurry of nurses flit around him like a bunch of buzzing bees. But he isn’t watching any of them.
No… Gen’s eyes are locked on yours the second you come into view.
The doctor begins to speak, telling you about the surgery, but you don’t hear him. All you hear is muffled speaking, almost as if he’s talking through cotton. It’s like this for a few moments until you come back to the present and hear,
“I’m confident he’ll make a full recovery.” The doctor says, and you feel the pricks of tears in your eyes.
He was alive.
He was going to be okay.
You all but yank the door open and slip inside as the nurses and medical personnel file out of the room to give you two some privacy. But as soon as the door shuts, it’s as if all the strength in your knees has left you again, and you all but collapse on the side of his bed, reaching to grasp his hand. You’re mindful of the IV in the back of his hand as you cradle his palm in both hands. He arches an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything just yet.
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, and he shrugs with one shoulder, settling back into his mountain of pillows.
“‘m fine.” He mumbles with a yawn.
“Is there anything I can do for you?’ You press, and he shakes his head,
“Not unless you’ll get me one of my games. The doc won’t let me have my phone just yet.” He complains, and you hang your head with a dry chuckle.
Of course, he wants one of his games. You wouldn’t expect anything different from your boyfriend.
“If the doctor says no, I’m going to listen to him.” You say, and he immediately lets out a whine. But before he can complain, you cut him off, “Gen, you need to take it easy. Getting worked up over video games isn’t going to help.”
He rolls his eyes and tugs his hand from yours to cross his arms across his chest, huffing indignantly, and you realize this is going nowhere. But that still didn’t mean your anger rose any less. In fact, it actively pulsed within your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you scowled.
He noticed, and his eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t often you actively showed your anger.
“What has you freaking out? I didn’t die, did I?” He asks, and you glare,
“You coded Gen. Your heart stopped.”
“But they got it back! Stop freaking out, seriously, it’s gonna give me a headache.”
“Oh, excuse me for freaking out. I only thought you were dead!” You borderline shout, and he rolls his eyes.
Gen gives you an impish, boyish grin despite your fury, the kind he gives you when he beats you at a video game or successfully kills a kaiju. He works his hand over so he can entwine his fingers with yours. You can feel your anger melting away as he speaks.
“You can’t kill me that easily.”
#narumi gen x reader#narumi gen x you#gen narumi x reader#gen narumi x you#gen narumi x y/n#kn8 x reader#kn8 x you#kn8 x y/n#kn8#kaiju no. 8 x reader#kaiju no. 8 x you#kaiju no 8 x reader#kaiju no 8 x you#fairy writes#fairy1.6kfollowers
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Hello everyone! I've got to say, I'm very pleased that this au won the latest poll! Gwaine's one of my favorite characters, but I don't give him enough love in my writing. So, I decided to really let his character shine in this au alongside some other characters who I feel like didn't get enough attention in the show. Enjoy! :D
Also, I saw that Merlin was trending again today, so I decided to jump in while that was happening lol! I love that this fandom will just wake up on a random day and decide to take over tumblr!
This au is set in the years between season 4 and season 5 (but Lancelot is still alive because I say so), and the story starts with Gwaine's getting a little worried about his friend. Merlin's getting more and more stressed as the weeks go by, and he doesn't smile very often anymore despite Gwaine's best efforts, which usually involve roping Merlin into whatever mischief he's stirred up recently for a little bit of fun.
Gwaine feels pretty guilty about Merlin's worsening mental state, because Gwaine is thriving for the first time in his life, finding a community and purpose among the knights of Camelot. And he owes it all, everything he now has, to Merlin, who is suffering under a burden that no one can seem to help him with.
So, Gwaine tries all that he can to cheer up his friend and pull him out of whatever terrible place his mind is stuck in, but no matter what Gwaine does, he can't seem to lighten Merlin's mood any. Sure, Merlin will plaster on a smile for Gwaine's sake and tell him that nothing's wrong, but Gwaine can see the dullness in Merlin's eyes, he saw it every time his saw his reflection for years before Merlin barreled into his life and showed him that there was more to life than taverns and wandering.
Before he knew it, a year had passed, and Gwaine hadn't made any progress in pulling Merlin out of his darkening mental state. Gwaine felt so frustrated and useless whenever he saw Merlin's smile the drop the second he thought that no one was watching. This was his chance to finally repay Merlin for turning his life around for the better, for giving him a home, a family, a purpose, but nothing he did was helping!
But Gwaine couldn't give up on helping Merlin. There must be a way to help him, to support him through whatever was burdening him, some way to bring that bright spark back to his eyes. Gwaine just had to find out how.
From the on, Gwaine kept an even closer eye on Merlin, determined to figure out what was weighing down his friend and how to ease his burdens. It was because Gwaine was watching Merlin so closely that he noticed them.
Gwaine will give them credit, whoever they were, they were good at stealth, far beyond anyone Gwaine had met before. The cloaked figure was almost always out of sight, right in the corners of his vision. At first, he thought that this nearly imperceivable figure was after him, but it didn't take him long to figure out that the mysterious figure was following Merlin.
As soon as Gwaine realized this, all of the alarm bells in his mind went off. Was this an assassin sent to kill Merlin? A spy trying to infiltrate Camelot? A bandit planning to abduct Merlin for ransom?
Or, Gwaine realized, this might be connected to Merlin's worsening moods. This mysterious figure was clearly well trained, but they had been following Merlin for over a week and still hadn't attacked, so they probably weren't an assassin or bandit. Was Merlin being threatened by this figure into doing their bidding?!
Finally, after tailing Merlin's stalker for weeks, Gwaine manages to get some answers after following Merlin on a late-night rendezvous outside of the castle. When Gwaine had spotted Merlin sneaking away under the cover of night, Gwaine of course had to follow him! Merlin could be in danger!
Gwaine followed Merlin as the other man made his way into the woods with a surprising amount of stealth. After a long hike through the woods, Merlin arrived at his destination, which, to Gwaine's shock, looked strikingly like a druid camp. There were painted tents, campfires, and even magical symbols carved into the tree, and all signs pointed to sorcerers living there.
Gwaine's anxiety skyrocketed at the sight. Why would Merlin risk coming to this secret druid camp, which Arthur definitely did not know about? Was Merlin being threatened and followed by sorcerers?!
Gwaine crept around the outskirts of the camp, sticking to the darkness. He saw Merlin approach a rather intimidating bald man, who, if the way the others in the camp made way for him as he walked, was the leader of this group of sorcerers.
Gwaine kept his hand firmly wrapped around the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it and run to the defense of his friend at a moment's notice. As he kept watching though, he strangely couldn't see any sign of a threat towards Merlin. While Gwaine couldn't hear much of their conversation, the intimidating leader guy acted almost friendly towards Merlin, and Merlin was relaxed, not showing any signs of fear at all.
As Merlin and his maybe-friend began making their way out of the camp, Gwaine could finally hear some of what they were saying.
"Thank you again, Alator. I'm not sure what I would've done without your help!"
"It is no burden to me or my men, I assure you. It is an honor to assist a man as great as you, Emrys. Morgana's forces are a threat to us all and an affront to all that is good in this world. We will fight at your side as always and ensure that Morgana's spies never infiltrate Camelot again."
Alright, there was... a lot for Gwaine to unpack there.
First of all, the scary bald man's name was apparently Alator, so that was good to know. He claimed to be allied with Merlin against Morgana, which gave Gwaine some relief.
However, as Gwaine's mind put the pieces together, he wanted to scream with frustration. Merlin was consorting with dangerous sorcerers behind Arthur's back in order to protect Camelot! It was a move so selfless yet foolish that only Merlin could pull it off.
Still, these sorcerers didn't seem hostile towards Merlin at all, so Gwaine could work with that. He just needed a little bit more information on them, some way to confirm that they really were on Merlin's side on not double crossing his friend.
So, Gwaine crept closer into the camp, trying to see what they were up to now that Merlin was gone. He didn't see anything incriminating just yet, but that didn't mean that they were free of any nefarious plans.
Gwaine inched closer and closer into the camp, his eyes trained on the men who were probably sorcerers going about their evening chores in the camp. Gwaine so focused on his targets, in fact, that he didn't register that there was someone behind him until he felt blow to the back of his head and fell unconscious.
As Gwaine woke up, his first thought was that the pounding in his head was just a hangover, which was not by any means an unusual occurrence for Gwaine. That idea was quickly disproven as, when Gwaine tried to raise his hands to his head to try and alleviate his massive headache, he realized that his hands were bound. Once again, this wasn't necessarily an unusual situation for Gwaine, but it did cause him to freeze up with alarm as he remembered where he was and what he was doing before everything went black.
When Gwaine was finally able to peel his eyes open, he was greeted with the sight of several angry-looking men, including their intimidating leader whom Merlin had spoken to. What was his name... ah yes, Alator!
Putting on his friendliest and most innocent smile, Gwaine immediately tried to talk his way out of the situation. It had worked for him in similar situations, so why not give it a shot?
"Well, hello there gentlemen! I was just here looking for my buddy Merlin, have you seen him? Lanky fellow, dark hair, always wearing a neckerchief? A great guy, really, you'd know if you had met him!"
Gwaine scrutinized each of his captors' reactions to Merlin's name. Maybe this way he could find out what their intentions with Merlin. However, all of their expressions remained stubbornly neutral, except for Alator, who simply blinked at the mention of Merlin.
After an awkwardly long silence, Gwaine again tried to get some sort of reaction out of these mysterious men.
"I could have sworn I saw him heading this way, and I got worried about him, ya know? What kind of friend would I be if I let him wander around the forest at night all by himself! He's the kindest person I know, but he can somehow find himself in trouble at any time."
Again, much to Gwaine's rising frustration, Alator simply blinked. After another awkward pause, Alator finally responded.
"You are a knight of Camelot, correct? And you hold Emrys is high regard?"
Gwaine frowned at the seemingly random questions, but he figured it couldn't hurt to keep the conversation rolling, especially if it can get him some answers. Admitting to being a knight of Camelot in front of a bunch of potentially dangerous sorcerer might not be the best move, but they were willingly working with King Arthur's personal manservant, so these guys must not have that much of an issue with Camelot, right?
"Why yes, I am a knight of Camelot! Sir Gwaine, at your service! Based on your question, I assume that Emrys is some nickname you have for Merlin?"
In response to his question, Alator merely gave a single, solemn nod. Man, this group really needed to work on their communication skills.
"In that case, I do hold Emrys in very high regard! In fact, I'd say he's the best person I've ever met!"
Finally, that comment got a reaction out of them! As soon as Gwaine told them about how much he values Merlin, the men in front of him started nodding and murmuring amongst themselves. Gwaine hoped that they were happy about having a common friend and not plotting ways to kill him.
After reaching some consensus, the men all turned towards Gwaine simultaneously, which sent a shiver down Gwaine's back. What were they planning?
Alator then waved his hand, and his eyes flashed gold, confirming Gwaine's suspicions that he was dealing with sorcerers. Gwaine flinched back and braced himself for whatever spell had just been sent his way...
Only to feel the chains binding him fall to the ground, leaving him free and unharmed. Gwaine glanced down to check that he was, in fact, still in one piece before staring at Alator in shock.
"I can sense the honesty in your heart as you speak Emrys's praises. Know that any friend of Emrys is a friend to us. We apologize for our previous behavior, as we did not know that you were also an ally of Emrys. Please, join us for a cup of tea so we can discuss this further."
Gwaine, reeling from his host's sudden change in attitude, let them maneuver him outside and give him a seat at their campfire, with Alator and his men sitting with him around the fire.
Gwaine looked around at his hosts, who sat silently around the fire, not even talking amongst themselves. The silence made Gwaine's nerves stand on end, so he decided to fill that silence himself. He might as well get to know his gracious hosts and fellow friends of Merlin, right?
"So, who are you guys? How did you meet Merlin? Hey, maybe we can compare stories of him! Let me tell you, I've got some crazy stories to share about adventures he's dragged me on!"
The men sitting around him shared a silent look at each other before Alator answered.
"We are the Catha, masters of combat and one of the last surviving sects of priests of the Old Religion. I am Alator, the leader of the Catha. I first met Emrys when I betrayed Morgana to follow a better, more peaceful path. Emrys showed us that Morgana's hatred lies opposed to the will of the gods, and we chose to place our loyalty in him instead. What stories do you have concerning Emrys?"
Gwaine nodded, feeling a strange sort of relatability to these intimidating magic-wielding warrior priests. They, like him, were on a path of meaningless destruction and found a better life by meeting Merlin.
"Ah, I can remember meeting Merlin like it was yesterday! There I was, drowning my sorrows in a tavern, when in walks a skinny looking guy and his pompous friend! They got into trouble pretty quickly, and I couldn't miss out on all that fun! I jumped into the tavern brawl to help them, but I got pretty banged up in the process. But, it turned out that it was my lucky day, because wouldn't you know it, I had accidentally saved the life of the prince of Camelot himself!
I didn't think much of prince Arthur at the time, but his manservant sure made a great impression! He brought me back to Camelot on his own horse, took me to the royal physician, gave up his own bed to me for the night so I could recover, and then covered for me after I got drunk off my ass in the tavern, again.
But then some jackasses posing as knights tried to hurt Merlin, and I stepped in to defend him and wound up getting banished by Uther, but then Arthur welcomed me back and even made me a knight when he became prince regent! And I've been lucky enough to have Merlin at my side ever since!"
Gwaine watched as many of the men's eyes widened at his story, unsure of what exactly they were so shocked by.
"You mean to say that you stood up to Uther Pendragon, the mad butcher king, for Emrys's sake? And came back to his side as soon as you could despite the threat of death hanging over your head?"
"Well, I did manage to see Merlin on one other occasion while I was banished, but he sought me out for that one. Apparently Arthur was having some trouble on his big quest to the Perilous Lands, so Merlin called me in as backup."
The Catha started whispering amongst themselves at that, with even Alator leaning forward in interest.
"Emrys specifically sought out your skills on such a monumental quest? You understand the significance of such an honor?"
Gwaine nodded, his expression shifting from a wistful one to a much more serious one.
"Of course I understand. Merlin's such an amazing person, and it shocks me every time that he thinks I'm someone worth relying on. Still, that only motivates me to not let him down. He saw something in me that no one else did, not even me, and he found a way to bring it to the surface. He changed my life, gave me a purpose, and I will never underestimate how much he's done for me."
This time, all of the Catha were nodding their heads in approval of Gwaine's appreciation for Merlin.
"You truly do see the significance of Emrys, Sir Gwaine. I can see your loyalty towards him clearly. For that, I would like to make you an offer.
Emrys's enemies are our enemies, and there are many of them. Morgana's forces grow stronger by the day, and we can only do so much with how few of us are left. Emrys himself faces many dangers, and we cannot always protect him as much as we'd like, seeing as how we cannot enter the city of Camelot. You, however, are at Emrys's side every day.
In working towards our shared goals, will you work alongside us to protect Emrys and keep Morgana's forces at bay? We can provide you with training that will put you far ahead of any of your peers and weapons that shall make you a formidable opponent to even the most powerful sorcerers. Will you accept our offer?"
"Ah, I see now. It was you lot who have been following Merlin around recently! Well, that certainly gives me quite a bit of relief, knowing that he isn't being followed around by someone who'd want to hurt him. I'd be happy to join in on your mission to protect Merlin!"
The Catha started murmuring approvingly amongst themselves at Gwaine's acceptance, until Alator spoke again.
"That is wonderful. It is an honor to be able to work alongside a warrior held in such high esteem by Emrys himself."
As Gwaine shook Alator's hand, accepting his offer, he got the feeling that this was the start of an amazing alliance.
And it sure was. Over the next months, Gwaine trained alongside the warrior priests whenever he could, becoming accustomed to their stoic natures and silent demeanors. They taught him fighting styles that he had never even heard of before and gave him information on people who were trying to hurt Merlin, allowing him to keep an eye on and eliminate threats to his friend before they had the chance to strike.
The Catha figured out pretty early on that Gwaine was rubbish at learning anything about magic itself, but when they placed enchanted weapons in his hands, he could wield them effortlessly and adapt his combat style to whatever the effects of the enchantment were. He even got a sword that could burst into flames!
As Gwaine's abilities to wield stronger enchanted weapons improved, the Catha started letting him fight the powerful sorcerers that Morgana sent into Camelot. Soon enough, he was equipped with indestructible armor armor that could repel spells and curses, weapons with some of the most formidable enchantments that the Catha could muster, and even a growing reputation throughout the land!
Luckily, the helmet that the Catha provided him with obscured his identity, so no reports of a rogue and enchantment-wielding Sir Gwaine made their way back to Arthur, as funny as that would be. Still, reports of the "indominable magic knight" that had defeated some of Morgana's most powerful sorcerers made their way across the land, even into Camelot's court. Some council members wished to capture the unknown knight and kill him before he became a threat, while others saw an opportunity to make a powerful ally against Morgana, and Arthur was constantly on the fence between those two arguments while Gwaine sat at the round table, quietly smug.
Meanwhile, Merlin, checking in with the Catha: What's this I hear about a warrior using powerful magic weapons to fight Morganas men?
Alator: Don't worry, Emrys. He's one of ours, fighting against Morgana in your name. He's one of your most devout followers in fact.
Merlin, not wanting to meet another Emrys fanboy who looks at him like he's a god: Uh, just tell him to keep up the good work and to let me know if he needs anything.
Soon after reports of the magic knight made their way to a very conflicted court of Camelot, Morgana sought out the magic knight, ready to either kill him for being such a nuisance or make an ally out of him. After all, surely a knight wielding such powerful magic would never be on the side of Camelot?
However, when Morgana managed to trap the magical knight and surround him with an army of a hundred sorcerers, the knight managed to defeat her and her entire army before escaping. He rained down fire and lightning upon them, the very elements fighting alongside him, as he cut down her army and left her defeated and humiliated.
Of course, reports of Morgana's defeat travelled to Camelot, where the court was even more incensed over the topic of the magical knight. He was capable of beating Morgana, surely he would be a great ally and could ensure Camelot's protection! But he was also now a magic-wielding threat even more powerful than Morgana! Sure he was now the foremost threat to Camelot!
In the end, Arthur and some of his most trusted knights decided to go on a quest to seek out this magical knight. Gwaine wasn't particularly worried, because how could they possibly find him if he was already travelling with them?
During the journey though, they receive word of a magical beast terrorizing nearby villages. The knights all try to fight the beast, but to little success, and it even managed to injure Merlin's leg before escaping!
Merlin's injury turned out to be not life-threatening, but he couldn't stand on his leg for very long. Unbeknownst to anyone else, Merlin entrusted Lancelot with slaying the beast after his injury, enchanting Lancelot's sword so that it could kill a creature of magic and his chainmail so that he wouldn't be hurt by its claws.
Gwaine, meanwhile, was furious with the creature and, that night, summoned his enchanted armor and weapons to go slay the beast and maybe give its head to Merlin as an apology for being unable to stop it from hurting him. Or maybe he would just treat Merlin to a night at the tavern when they got back.
So, Lancelot and Gwaine both tracked down the beast that knight. When they both arrived at the beast's lair with visibly enchanted weapons, they take each other by surprise. Lancelot is on guard, unsure if he wants to trust the now-infamous magic knight, but Gwaine just laughs and removes his helmet, and Lancelot is shocked.
Lancelot and Gwaine seeing each other with enchanted gear: spiderman pointing meme
Gwaine asks Lancelot where he got that enchanted sword, but Lancelot is tight-lipped about it, just saying he got it because he needed to protect Merlin. Gwaine chuckled and said that he understood.
After they finish slaying the beast together, Lancelot asks Gwaine if Merlin knows that he's the magic knight. Gwaine shrugs and says that he suspects that Merlin doesn't know, but wouldn't mind it if Merlin did know.
Lancelot, as soon as they get back to Camelot: So, did you know that Gwaine is actually the magic knight?
Merlin, spitting out his tea and having flashbacks to his conversation with Alator: HE'S WHAT NOW?!
Things get cleared up between Lancelot, Merlin, and Gwaine pretty quickly from there. Gwaine takes the magic reveal very well, excited at the prospect of going on magical adventures with Merlin and glad that his friend can actually defend himself, because he's rubbish with any type of weapon.
From there though, a sort of friendly competition sprung up between Gwaine and Lancelot, as both of them consider themself to be Merlin's best friend. Soon enough, there's two magical knights running around foiling Morgana's plans, and Arthur's ready to tear his hair out over it.
From there, more knights figure out about Merlin's magic and, if they're accepting of it, they also train with the Catha and receive enchanted weapons. It almost becomes its own secret society within the knights, all united with the sole purpose of protecting Merlin. They eventually have Elyan, Percival, and number one Emrys fanboy Mordred join their ranks.
Arthur eventually finds out approximately where the magical knights are hidden (their meeting spot when they need to meet outside of Camelot), and he sends Leon in disguise to infiltrate them, not knowing that they are knights from Camelot. Being the knights of the round table, they of course recognize Leon immediately and give him the full story, and Leon joins them and just tells Arthur that he "couldn't find the magical knights."
Gwaine laughs his ass off at every round table meeting where Arthur becomes more and more frustrated at not being able to catch the magical knights, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Merlin having a good laugh over it too.
And I'll cut it off there for now! I had lots of fun writing this, I feel like I should write about Gwaine more often!
Let me know if you would like me to write a continuation for this au!
And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D
#merlin#bbc merlin#merlin bbc#arthur pendragon#merlin au#merlin prompts#emrys#lancelot#gwaine#sir gwaine
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new girl | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x fem!reader
summary: colby goes live on instagram but not everything goes as planned.
warnings: nothing really, just bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language)
an: colby was pacing so much on his ig live and it gave me this idea <3
pictures are from pinterest and colby’s snap:)
Your and Colby’s relationship was still somewhat fresh. And mostly important, hidden from his fans.
It wasn’t that you wanted to keep it hidden forever but you were together for seven months so you both didn’t feel ready for viewers reaction.
You knew he had many fangirls and some of them would probably eat you alive but you were ready for that and didn’t really care, but it didn’t change the fact that hiding it was making it even more exciting for you two, more special. So you didn’t rush to announce it although sometimes you wished you could just say to world he’s yours.
Currently you and Colby were sitting in the living room of your airbnb, waiting for ordered food while Sam was sleeping upstairs.
“I think I will go live on instagram for a few minutes.” Colby told you but didn’t move from his place under you on a couch.
“Okay, do you want me to go to our room?” you asked grazing his bare chest with your fingers.
“No, you can sit here. I will be careful to not show you.” he promised and you smirked at him.
“You better do, I’m not sure if your fans would be happy with some girl wearing only your hoodie.” you both laughed and you rolled of him so he could get up. He quickly kissed your lips and told you that he would start live on the balcony.
You were sitting silently on your phone, sometimes looking at Colby and listening to him answering people’s questions. He moved from outside and now was pacing around the room trying to not show you on his phone.
You started reading something on your phone only giving half of your attention to Colby’s words.
“Let Sam sleep.” he laughed and he didn’t even noticed his mistake, but fans surely did. The little, short flash of you lying on the couch in black hoodie was visible for his viewers for only a second but it was enough for them, they still caught it and started asking about you.
Colby noticed the comments and cursed himself but tried to act like there’s no comments about you. Until there were only comments about you and he just had to adress that.
“What?” he acted surprised “I’m alone here guys.” he looked at the couch where you finally looked at him and immediately understood what happend so you quickly but silently got up and went upstairs “Look, there’s no one on the couch. Maybe it was just a screen glitch or something.” he laughed.
Next day whole fandom was talking about mysterious girl on Colby’s live and him trying to play it off.
“You are screwed.” Sam laughed looking at tweets “Or maybe not. Some girl’s theory says it’s prank, like the one we did with Jake.”
“Maybe Sam could act like your girlfriend again and we would just act like it’s actually a prank again?” you offered looking at Colby.
You knew he was worried that the hate you would get after announcing your relationship would scare you off, so you didn’t want to press him into announcing even if you felt like you wanted to just go in public with him holding your hand and kiss him freely whenever you felt like it.
“We should think about it.” Colby agreed “Would you do that Sam?”
“Sure bro.” Sam shrugged and announced he’s heading to the store.
“Do you think we should do that?” you asked quietly.
“What do you mean?” Colby looked at you after placing kiss on your forehead.
“Wouldn’t you want to announce it already?” you squeezed his hand “I know you’re scared I won’t be able to handle the hate but I’m afraid I even more won’t be able to handle not being able to kiss you in public, hold your hand and hug you.”
“You’re sure?” he looked at you with a hope “I really want to tell the world you’re mine girl but I don’t want you to be hated on by my fans, it would kill me.” he placed his forehead on yours.
“I’m sure love. I love you and I don’t care what your fans think about me as long as I have you on my side.” at your words Colby smiled widely.
“I love you baby.” he kissed you “I’m sure Sam will be sad he’s no longer have to be my girlfriend.” you both laughed.
“How do you want to announce it?” you tilted your head looking at him and playing with his rings on his fingers.
“We are supposed to be exploring a house this weekend, would you like to go with us?” he smirked and you nodded with a smile.
“Sounds fun.” after a moment of silence you added “I hope your fangirls won’t be haunting me after the announcement.”
Colby laughed at that.
“I’m sure they will love you, you are just impossible to not love.” he kissed your nose.
“Yeah but they also hoped to be your girl some day.” you giggled.
“Well, this place isn’t available anymore, sorry.” he shrugged “Let’s watch something.”
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hiyaa!! can i request the king’s reaction to gabriel attempting to kill mc when they aren’t there? he does succeed in slashing their arm a bit, where mc crouches in pain while trying to stop the bleeding.
(your blog is my fav btw i love all of your stuff! <3)
First, let me be a nerd as I explain one thing, because I know that not everyone has been in the fandom from the beginning, and this fact was mentioned in the very first event. Gabriel's scythe kills on touch. It is a gift from god that even kings avoid because just one scratch means death.
I don't know if you were aware of this, dear anon, when you asked for this headcanon (if you wanted a less drastic scenario, please let me know, I'll gladly write a second one!). Get ready for angst.
(And! Thank you for kind words! You have no idea how nice to hear that <;3)
Satan reacted as befitted his sin. Wrath. Rage. Breakdown. A red, thick fog flowed into the streets, only choking the subordinates, but sweeping away the angels. They couldn't stand the mourning that poured out of him, and they died in agony as long as he held your dying body in his arms. This was the only day in the history of Gehenna when the devils lost their will to fight and their king almost followed you into the arms of death, fighting more fiercely than ever before.
You fulfilled your promise. You died to protect Hell. And he failed to protect you. Once you were buried in a beautiful, simple grave, Satan had only one thing on his mind. He promised you that he would be faithful, only yours, for millennia. And he will keep that promise. No lovers, no one-night stands. He couldn't protect you, but he can protect the one you did all this for. Minhyeok and his later children won't even be aware of it, but they have just gained a pure white, red-eyed guardian.
Beelzebub felt you dying rather than saw you. By the time he appeared at your side, it was too late. There was almost no blood flowing, but you both knew that this wound would never heal. He kissed you and whispered soothingly as you died. It was his fault. His damn eternal wandering. If he had stayed, if he had watched you better... You deserved more than being buried among his clones. You should rest with those who, unlike him, did protect you. With your parents. He will show up with your body on Minhyeok's doorstep, hoping that he will get angry and yell at him, but he will only break down in tears over your body. This is not enough for Beelzebub, this is worse than the punishment he expected. He doesn't feel worthy of attending your funeral, but he'll watch from afar anyway.
Your tombstone will always look like new, even for hundreds of years. Intact stone, fresh flowers. There are things that even Beelzebub cannot forget.
Leviathan won't let you die. No, just no. No way. Do not agree. The moment you get hurt, he will catch you in his arms. The face is colder than usual, but the voice is more soothing than ever. "Do not be afraid. You are mine, and I am not letting you go.” He will kiss you one last time and push you into his coffin. Suspended somewhere between worlds, not dead, but not alive either, you will be pushed into eternal sleep, barely remembering who you are.
Leviathan won't stop there, he has to get you back. Only god can save you from death, and if that means this devil has to find him, he will. Anything to get you back to his side. He won't agree to lose another person he loves.
This time Mammon is the spoiled one
MAMMON
The shield you raised could withstand anything - or so you thought, until Gabriel cut through it like a knife through wax. The wound on your forearm was minor. Almost invisible. Still, you stared at it in silence, dazed. You knew what that meant.
A fist sprung in front of your nose a second too late. Shooed the seraph away a second too late. Your life could have been saved. A second too late.
"Master! Are you okay?" Mammon caught up with you and grabbed you in his arms. The grogginess slowly turned into dizziness. You collapsed onto his chest, losing strength.
"He... hurt me." You whispered into his broad chest. His muscles tensed as if ready to attack, but the huge arms lifted you ever so gently. You felt like you were in a huge cradle. The consciousness that slowly drained from your body was glad that it was spending its last moments in these arms.
The king held your limp body for a long time. He couldn't say goodbye to you, he couldn't understand that he had lost you. That you already had left this Hell, and there was nothing he could do about it.
A huge mausoleum was built in the meadow where you died. Gold and silk blinded the inhabitants from afar, outshining the sun itself. Despite the splendor greater than in the palace, everyone considered your tomb to be the poorest place in the world. Mammon visited it every day. He reminded himself that he needed to protect his people better. That he should have protected you better. For the first time in his life he felt real loss.
It was here that Tartaros' greatest treasure was lost.
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Ok going back on my previous post on how it’s stupid that people argue that nori is a “bad mom”
1. this woman spent, from what we know, HER ENTIRE LIFE being tortured in the name of science by a bunch of cruel humans that clearly did not give two shits how she felt/what pain she processed.
(may i add that we have NO idea what happened to her before the events of the core collapse — but we do get a sense that it was incredibly tragic and villainous)
2. after LITERALLY BEING DEMONICALLY POSSESSED AND MAGIC-NUKING THE PLANET, she finally escapes with, what she assumes, is the ONLY other experimental subject left (yeva). Like… imagine you wake up to… all your friends/acquaintances DEAD around you and you have no recollection of why or how it happened.
3. After successfully escaping and making it to the surface, she falls in love and gets married. and we don’t get ANY information on her and khans past (which, in my opinion, is a major disservice to the show’s worldbuilding/plot. I know ep5 is probably the most hated one in the fandom, so i feel like replacing it with a khan and nori episode and then doing a series of manor flashbacks during episodes 6 and 7 would’ve been more effective — idk thoughts?)
But what I mean to say is that Khan and Uzi were probably the best thing and likely one of the only good things to ever happen to her.
And what happens right after?
Killed by a DD. Basically right after her life really begins, she dies.
4. Somehow, she wakes up AS A CORE, even though both the solver/cyn and Khan think she’s dead. I’m assuming she died well before Uzi could’ve formed any memories of her, but somehow nori knew that the solver passed to her daughter. And so she literally RETURNS TO THE LABS SHE HAD TO ESCAPE FROM (that probably evoked a landslide of traumatic memories) and spends over 10 years digging through the solver’s planet-mosh-pit to find the patch. TO DO WHAT?? SAVE HER KID. She couldn’t have returned because she probably didn’t wanna risk the solver finding out she was still alive.
So like?? Lady was abused, barely got to actually live, was murdered and tragically separated from her husband, somehow cheated death and woke up as (literally) a FRACTION of the person she was before, and STILL PUT HER KID FIRST even if it meant braving the labs, the solver, and all her trauma again.
how is that bad parenting???? 🤨
#khan doorman#murder drones#murder drones khan#murder drones nori#nori doorman#khori#murder drones khori#murder drones uzi#uzi md#uzi doorman#liam vickers animation#disassembly drone#motherhood#mother#this shit actually pisses me off
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sorry to talk about star wars on main but
Leslye Headland is truly the funniest person alive for saying on record that oshamir was inspired by reylo. like it's the most transparent marketing line to simply tell you that they're "enemies to lovers" (pending) and to bait the reylos (who are arguably the strongest voice in the disney era fandom... like look what they achieved [derogratory]) into caring about non-white characters because yeah The Acolyte Does need the numbers.
and sure this is bringing people into the show for the wrong reasons and also deterring people from the show for the wrong reasons but it's a TRAP lol ms Headland has a comically large shovel-shaped lightsaber and is digging a hole in the ground right in front of us all. and I am DIVING IN HEAD FIRST before she's even sprinkled leaves over it. because oshamir is nothing like reylo, because The Acolyte is nothing like disney era star wars!
The Acolyte is critical of the jedi order and the absolutism of the dark side. it's not about Anakin but it does Understand Anakin and what went down in the prequels (unlike the kenobi series which essentially nullified his whole corruption arc...) and the jedi order's unique form of oppression through repression. up until this point we've only seen our protagonists being lured to the dark side through grooming and sabotage by a sith actively turning them away from the jedi.
but in the acolyte, our protagonist Osha has already been fucked over by the jedi without the influence of any sith! they killed her family, they killed her PEOPLE/RELIGION, they left her sister Mae to die (after they already decided she had terrible vibes), and they abandoned her as a "failure" because after all they did to cut her away from her life THEY DIDN'T WANT HER because she was affected by the trauma THEY CAUSED.
and they did say to Sol from the start that she was too old to be recruited. how many other padawans must they have done this to while they were too young for that trauma to grow and could still be groomed to believe in the force in the way the jedi order do. Sol is horrified at Qimir/The Stranger for killing a child and he just shrugs and says "you brought her here" because it really is on him.
but yeah Osha at this point in the story with her lived experiences is an adult who cannot be manipulated like that, by a jedi OR a sith. and so what other approach can Qimir really make to lure Osha over to the dark side except to... talk to her? sure there's a seductive subtext to it, but this is the first time we've seen someone with the force, sith or jedi, have to present their case like an adult To an adult.
and as the no.1 jedi order hater this is SO compelling to me because everything Qimir has to say is SO true and yeah manny is hot and amandla is hot and when you think about it he did kind of give her a knife lightsaber because he wants someone on that same level of enlightenment with him which does expose him to creating someone who could very well destroy him but he's taking that risk with her because he does Know her already from what he sees of himself and he's just going to get to know her better and they're both just going to keep talking it through and developing that set of beliefs together in That Beautiful Separation They Felt and she'll learn more about him and his particular history his real name and the scars on his back and also there's what he represents as a minority in the world and Headland's connection to him as a lesbian and how it feels like they don't want you to exist and let's not forget the colonial metaphors the manifest destiny of the way the jedi operate she'll see how alike they are and she'll be able to come into herself as an empowered user of the force and that'll be thanks to him and the journey will be Glorious!
but none of that is going to change the fact that before he made this intellectual/civilised/human/seductive approach with her as an adult HE STILL GROOMED HER SISTER and Osha is NEVER going to forget that because if she and Mae are the same person she's the only one left to remember he did that to her/them and I cannot fucking WAIT to see her lightsaber turn green when she finally runs it through his chest god bless 🥰
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