#i will never forgive that man's carelessness

[solomon-tozer]

Okay so I have my cats back, which is such a massive relief. I need to keep an eye on them in case the toxin has a delayed effect/onset, but I really truly hope that this is the end of the ordeal (minus bloods next week to check they're still okay).

As to what happened? A certain someone I live with didn't bother to close the kitchen door. I woke up to find they'd managed to eat human food containing onion. Utterly terrifying (and expensive, but I'll figure something out).

Please be so careful as to what your pets eat and have access to.

[ramonathinks]

your dad always mentioning his best friend — you’re always hearing stories about him yet he’s never around. you only ever seen the back of his head in photos, and honestly you can barely even remember his name.

so when you’re back from university during the summer and your dad says in passing that his best friend is finally coming down to see him, you don’t think to much of it. just finally glad you’re able to meet the man who your dad is always raving about.

but being back home and away from school, you finally feel a bit more free. you invite a few friends out to a local club, waiting to look cute and just get some drinks.

you weren’t expecting a handsome stranger to be so taken with you. he buys you a drink, he offers you a dance, you can feel just how hard he is against your backside but he doesn’t care. “i want to be a gentleman and not fuck you in the bathroom…” as he speaks the dress you’re wearing is pulled up your hips, the club dimly lit and you can only feel his strong hands trailing up and down your thighs. “but i can hardly hold on any longer. you’re such a beautiful woman, you know that?”

“so i must ask if i can take you to where im saying tonight?” his fingers circle around your panty clothed clit and you squirm, nodding.

the hotel he stays at is only a block away, the walk is almost unbearable with his hot gaze and his hand on the small of your back.

a good look under the bedroom light and you get even wetter, his older handsome face under your dress when he sits you on the bed.

he’s sloppy with it. wetness coating your thighs as he slurps up the wetness you let out. he plays with your clit using his mouth to suck and lick trails up, drawing circles all over. muttering: “sticky little thing.” you try not to squirm to move but you reach down to tug at his hair as he shakes his hand to get more of your juices to coat his face. your thighs shake but he stops: “want you cumin’ on my cock, got that pretty?”

his cock splits you open, you arch your back and move back, he just laughs: “you can take it, cmon.” and even whispers more dirty things in your ear: “cmon baby, this pussy is weeping, don’t you want her to stop crying?”

you stay up all night as he makes you take him over and over again until he can fit himself all the way in. the long drags of his thick cock overwhelming you, your toes curl and when a tear falls from your eyes he makes sure to lick it up, you can’t believe this man is so filthy.

when the morning time comes you hear him on the phone, muttering or rather trying to be a gentleman to let you sleep in. he leaves you a bit of money with a note saying not to think of it as anything, he owes you for making you stay up all night.

you don’t expect to see him again. especially at home, hugging your dear old dad. you don’t expect him to look at you with the same amount as want and need as last night as you shake his hand.

even when breakfast is over, he helps you wash the dishes, saying he wants to get to know you better or so he tells your dad — his best friend. but instead he’s talking to you: “what are we going to do, hm? we can’t tell him, your dad would kill me.”

“my dad would kill both of us. you’re his best friend—”

“and you’re his precious daughter.” his eyes darken as he looks you over, even with you just wearing a tee shirt and jeans he still was packing a hard on. “he can forgive you, he won’t forgive me. im the adult here.”

“im twenty three, im an adult!” you try to argue.

“half my age, i shouldn’t have been been so careless.” he mutters, thinking to himself. “reckless. let’s just make that a one time thing, okay? look at me.”

your body burns in embarrassment as you look up at him, biting your lip and twirling your hair. you liked the way he looked at you, soft warming and inviting eyes.

he says it’s a one time thing until he’s putting his number in your phone. he says it’s a one time thing until he’s fucking you a few times before he leaves. he says it’s a one time thing until he’s taking you on dinners. he says it’s a one time thing even when he’s three months deep into the summer.

he says it’s a one time thing the entirety of his stay and when you’re back on campus, getting ready to sign a lease to a lonely apartment. you realize it’s not a one time thing when he’s pulling up and quickly telling the landlords nevermind for you and he’s giving you keys to a shared place.

“just don’t tell your dad, okay?” he winks.

SHIU KONG, TOJI, MIGUEL, GHOST, KÖNIG

BANNERS BY @/cafekitsune

[cryptidghostgirl]

The Guilt (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader)

Description: Y/n was the one person he never meant to kill, but Alastor didn't have a choice. Years later, much to his surprise, they run into one another in the depths of Pentagram City.

Warnings: Murder, cannibalism mentioned in a metaphoric sense. Un-detailed descriptions of rotting bodies.

Word Count: 2,701

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I just wanted to write something that has been stuck in my head for a hot minute since I've like only been doing requests the past couple days. I think the only ones I have left are ones that have been sent in since February 15th so I hope that is okay.

Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her. It had been a year since his arrival in Hell and he was already making waves. Demons avoided him on the streets, shot him fearful glances over their shoulders. He enjoyed the privacy it afforded him, the padding of air around him.

He didn't pay the others mind, focused on his own goals and patterns of being. Friends, relationships, they were far from his top priority but still, Alastor recognized her the minute he first saw her.

In his years of blood soaked escapades in the world of the living, he had wreaked havoc on the world. In all those years, he had only ever made two mistakes. The first had been getting caught, getting killed by that hunter. The second? Had been killing that girl.

He hadn't had a choice. Normally, Alastor chose his victims carefully following a specific criteria. She had been an accident. He had gotten careless one night, cocky even in his streak of successes. Alastor had been transfixed, carving a man's intestines from the cavity of his stomach. The girl had had wide eyes, her mouth open. She had trembled.

Their eyes had met across the darkened street. She had clutched at her coat, pulling it tighter. She hadn't even tried to run.

Alastor never learned her name, avoided all reports on her disappearance and death like the plague. She haunted him. He saw her around corners, when he shut his eyes at night like a vengeful spirit. Always just staring at him with those big, knowing eyes. He didn't need more reminders, more facets of feeling, than he already had.

Alastor had recognized her the minute he first laid eyes on her in Hell. It had taken him a moment to realize she was real, she still looked so deeply human after all. He had never expected her to be here. He had never expected to see her again.

When he opened his eyes and she was still there, sitting placidly at the cafe table, it was like some uncontrollable force pulled him to her. He pulled out the spare chair, falling lazily into it. She looked up at the noise of metal against concrete, curiosity painting her features as she lowered her book onto the table.

"Hello?" she said after a moment, though it was more of a question than a greeting.

Alastor had never heard her voice before except for when she had screamed. It was melodious, it was soft and sweet. His smile grew.

"Yes, hello indeed."

She stared at him with those eyes, those same eyes that had haunted him for years.

"My apologies but, who are you? Do I know you?"

He was unable to keep the surprise from his features. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him something like that, he couldn't tell if she was joking. But then there were those wide eyes, earnest in their honesty.

"No, my apologies. I did not introduce myself. My name is Alastor, quite the pleasure to meet you. Quiet the pleasure."

He grabbed her hand from where it lay daintily across her open book, shaking it in his own.

"Oh!" Y/n lightly exclaimed in response to the action, "Oh, well, Alastor, I am Y/n. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well."

The contact broke and Alastor leaned his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands.

"Forgive me for saying this but, you seem a bit unsuited for all this mess. Prim and proper. What landed you here?"

"Is that why you've come to join me?"

Alastor nodded after a second's thought. It was an easy cover up for his true motives. Y/n seemed to have no idea who he was after all and to be perfectly honest, even Alastor himself was struggling to understand his motivations. Guilt wasn't an emotion he was familiar with. It was confusing, writhed in the pit of his stomach like a snake.

"Well, thats a rather personal question to ask someone right off the bat, isn't it?"

"I suppose you're right. How about this one then, what are you reading?"

After that day at the cafe, Alastor followed Y/n like a hurt puppy. He didn't rightly know why. It was a compulsion of a sort, he couldn't stop it. She was disinterested by radio, by the newfangled video boxes popping up. She knew nothing of his reputation, she just thought he was a friend. A fairly determined friend, but a friend none the less.

Alastor didn't understand it. He was a man obsessed, not with Y/n per say but with the opportunity she offered. She smelled like making good on past wrongs. That wasn't something Alastor had ever been interested in before. Y/n was the exception. She was always the exception, he supposed.

It wasn't long before their little lunches, their random rendezvous in the streets, carefully orchestrated by Alastor of course, not that she knew, became something more. Spending time with her calmed the raging sea of uncertainty in his gut. Being kind to her felt like salvation.

Alastor had never been concerned with that before, but it was such an intoxicating thing to hear her words of thanks, of praise. To witness her smiles and her apparently unending kindness. They would spend hours pouring over one another's collections of books. They would spend hours in deep philosophic discussion. It was Y/n who first brought up their previous lives.

"Do you ever miss it?" she had asked when they had been making lunch together one day in her apartment.

Alastor's hand had stilled, his knife halfway through the cut of veal he had been handeling.

"Miss what, my dear?"

"Life."

He began to move the knife again, letting out a slight hum of thought.

"Not particularly. I take it you do?"

Y/n leaned over the pot, checking to see if the water was boiling yet for the potatoes. It wasn't and so she turned to him, leaning up against the counter.

"Sometimes." she admitted.

Alastor turned to her as well. The apron over her dress was stained with jam from the times they had baked together just a few days before. Y/n hair was tied up and away from her face. He felt his heart stutter in his chest.

That had been happening a lot lately when he looked at her. Alastor figured it was a progression of guilt, a giving away of it. He figured spending time with Y/n was helping it go away.

It wasn't like it was a burden for him. They actually had a surprising amount in common.

"What do you miss?"

"My mom."

And there it was again, the cannibalistic sickness eating away at his brain.

"Were you two close?"

Y/n nodded, turning her gaze to the window.

"Yeah. She... I didn't have a big family. Or a lot of friends growing up. I was shy, painfully shy. She was... she was all I had. And now she's alone up there."

"What landed you down here?"

Y/n looked back to Alastor, smirking.

"Back to this are we? Only took what, six months?"

"We're friends now, aren't we?"

"Alastor..."

"Shoot me, I'm curious."

Y/n laughed lightly.

"Okay, I tell you, you tell me. Deal?"

Alastor thought it over for a moment. He could always lie to her, make up some story or another but, she was bound to find out eventually. More than anything, he wanted to keep her from connecting the pieces. Y/n figuring things out felt dangerous, it pained him to think about how she would react.

"Deal."

"Okay, um," Y/n looked away again, her hands fiddling with the frilled edge of her apron, "I don't really like to talk about it. It's kind of embarrassing."

"You made a deal."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

"So spill."

Y/n smiled lightly, meeting Alastor's eyes for a second.

"Well, I was kind of... maybe... sort of... a thief?"

"Really?"

Alastor hadn't expected that. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected to be honest but, it wasn't that.

"Yeah. Times were... tough growing up. Single mom with a kid in the early 1900s? Not everyone was a fan. It was hard for her to find work so I would... supplement. No one suspected the little girl, you know?"

There were two types of demons in Hell. There were the ones that had their demon forms, and then there were the ones like Alastor with more than one form, more abilities, more strength. It was the anger that fed it, the person they were on earth. Alastor had always assumed Y/n fell into the first category but, as she relayed her tale to him, her body began to change. She rotted before his very eyes, becoming a standing corpse with his bones all showing.

"I always felt awful about it but, we didn't really have a choice. You know? I didn't want to do it, didn't like it, but I did it and I was good at it. When I grew up, well, sometimes it is just easier to stick to what you know. I worked for a cleaning service, maids for hire, working parties, stuff like that. I, well, the people I worked for were rich. They didn't need the money but my mother and I certainly did."

It was then she seemed to realize her own changed appearance. Her eyes shot up to Alastor as she retook her original form.

"Sorry about that." she awkwardly laughed, "Guess the guilt is still eating me alive, even in death. So, what'd you do?"

Alastor took a breath, appraising the situation. The guilt, the sense of having truly sinned.

"I was a serial killer."

Y/n's eyes went wide.

"Really? You? But you're so..."

"So what, my dear?"

"So nice."

Alastor stilled.

"Nice?" he repeated.

Even in life, it was a word that few had directed towards him. Polite, yes. Talented, yes. Charming? Of course, but never nice.

At the sound of bubbling from the pot, Y/n turned his back to him.

"Yeah." she shrugged, opening the lid and dropping the potatoes in, "You probably one of the nicest people I've ever met."

The way Y/n saw him was intoxicating. Nice. He began to spend more and more time at her side. It was hard to keep the other half of his life from her but, he managed. It was a delicate balance, a game he knew well.

It was a day about a year later that Y/n approached him, blushing and unable to meet his eyes. It was a year later she told him how she felt and he realized he felt the same. They moved in together, did nearly everything together. It was a happy afterlife for them both. The first time they had kissed, she had tasted like redemption.

Y/n never questioned what Alastor did on his late nights out alone. She trusted his fidelity and when he said he liked going for walks alone in the evening air, she accepted it. When he said he was at work, broadcasting his radio show, she never asked why they didn't have a radio of their own. It was an unspoken agreement, he didn't ask where the money came from and she didn't ask what he did in the long hours he was away.

The guilt felt heavy in the pit of his stomach, growing stronger every day but still, Y/n remained blissfully ignorant. Alastor could practically hear the clock ticking. Every kiss felt like it might be the last, every caress, every meal shared at the kitchen table. He did everything he could, but knew one day she was bound to find out.

Alastor knew the day had come when he entered their lovely home on the outskirts of the Pride ring. He called his usual hello out into the house from the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Y/n didn't come.

"Y/n?" he called, taking a step further into the house, "Are you home?"

All the lights were on. That was something she was careful about from the old days, making sure not to use electricity unless necessary. There was no way she wasn't in the house.

Tentatively, he stepped into the kitchen. She was sitting at the table, her head in her hands.

"Are you alright, my love?"

It was then he noticed the radio on the table.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Y/n sighed, looking up at him, "Oh."

"Where did you get that?"

"Someone dropped it off, left it at the door. I thought it was you originally but, now I'm not so sure."

Someone had left it for her? One of Alastor's numerous enemies was responsible no doubt. He had always been so careful to keep her protected, out of the public eye. It didn't make sense.

"You heard todays broadcast?"

"Oh you mean the screams of innocent demons mixed in with your stories about New Orleans?"

Alastor was silent. Y/n's eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess.

"They were far from innocent. Everyone is down here for a reason. Besides, I told you. I'm a killer."

"You didn't tell me you were my killer."

His heart stopped. He hadn't realized exactly how much she'd managed to piece together from the simple broadcast.

"Am I now?" Alastor asked placidly, trying to remain calm as he clasped his hands behind his back.

He didn't know what he was playing at. He was grasping at straws. Y/n got to her feet.

"You never told me you were from New Orleans, just said you grew up in the south. I let it slide but, I shouldn't have. I should have known, the similarities in our experiences... god, I was such a fool! I should have known we grew from the same patch of dirt. Alastor, there was only one serial killer active in the city at the time we were both alive, at the time I died."

"And you think it was me, my heart?"

"Alastor." she crossed her arms.

"I..."

"How could you not tell me?"

Y/n's anger mixed with grief, it misdirected itself, it got caught on the details. It hurt more that he'd been lying to her. The act itself was something to be dealt with later. Now was the time for the lies. They had spent years together, built a life together and the whole time, he had been lying.

"I didn't me-"

"Mean for me to find out?"

"Well, yes." he took a step forward, he tried to grab her hands but she pulled them away.

Y/n's skin was rotting now, she was taking on her other form. It was the first time he'd seen her do it when not remising about the past or telling stories about her mother. He had no idea what she was capable of when in this state.

"But also, I didn't mean to-"

"To what, to kill me? To marry me? To make me fucking trust you?"

"I..."

The world was falling down around him. The one thing he couldn't lose, the one thing he cared about besides himself or his power. The person that meant the most to him.

"My darling, my heart, m-"

"No, Alastor. Just... just stop." she sighed, a hand to her forehead.

She rubbed her temples, exhausted and overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry."

The words were spoken softly but they crashed into Y/n like a speeding truck. They broke her ribs. She lowered her hand.

"I... I need some time."

"No, Y/n, wait. Please."

Again, she brushed off his attempts to hold her, making her way to the door of the kitchen. Alastor followed her out into the hallway.

"Y/n. Please. Please don't leave."

"What, so you can keep up your pity project?" she scoffed, rounding on him, "I am better than that Alastor. I deserve better."

"It... you aren't a pity project. You're my world, I love you."

"No, your world is this city. Your world is running Hell. I... Alastor, I'm leaving."

[cvntydazai]

bad arguments

how these bsd characters are after a bad argument

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader, chuuya nakahara x fem!reader, ryunosuke akutagawa x fem! reader

word count; 916

content warning; unedited, angst, fluff, arguing, miscommunication

a/n; just something random i wrote while taking a break from my dazai fic!

DAZAI OSAMU:

arguing with dazai was exhausting, this man would rather die a painful death than admit he was in the wrong about anything, it was usually why your fights got more out of hand than they ever needed to be. you hated how he tried to deflect from a situation instead of just owning up to his mistakes.

one particularly heated argument had you so riled up you had to leave your apartment, no longer wanting to look your lover in the eye until he was ready to apologize. he didn’t even spare you a glance as you left, a smug expression on his face.

you make your return to your apartment many hours later, it was now nighttime and much too late to be out, especially alone. the first thing your eye catches when you walk through the door is dazai’s fluffy head of hair resting on the couch. you huff, putting your coat up before walking over to the couch.

“are you ready to apol-“ you stop mid-sentence when you realize dazai’s asleep.

he looked uncomfortable, heavy eyebags and his head resting at an awkward angle on the arm rest. you couldn’t help it, a soft coo leaves your lips and it wakes him instantly. those honey eyes were everything but smug this time around.

“my flower, you’re back.” he mumbles, large hands reaching up to caress your face.

“i am..” you say, he smiles.

you continue to stare into his gaze for just a little longer, the silence draping over the two of you like a warm blanket. he knows that what you’re truly waiting for is his apology, he was more than happy to give it to you.

“i’m sorry, for everything. forgive me?” he says at last in his usual supple tone.

of course you forgave him, you always would.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA:

fights with chuuya usually didn’t last long, you two actually pride yourself on your communication when it comes to your relationship. he would never try to hurt you intentionally, you’re the most important person to him and he makes sure you never forget it.

but this one fight had you both out of control. you don’t remember who started it but no one was willing to end it, anything that came out of either of your mouths was only more fuel for the fire. if you were being honest with yourself, it terrified you. it wasn’t chuuya and his capabilities that had you so scared, you knew he would never bring any harm your way, it was the reality that this fight could be the ending to your relationship.

you didn’t want it to end like this, it couldn’t end like this. he was all you had and you would never forgive yourself if this was how it ends. so caught up in your own frightened mind, you didn’t even notice that chuuya quieted down and was staring into your eyes.

“ey, why are you crying?” he didn’t mean for the question to come out as harsh as it did, he was just so taken aback.

when you didn’t reply he really started to worry, his mind no longer focused on whatever you two were bickering about.

“come on doll, please don’t cry. i’m sorry.” his voice only made more salty tears spill from your eyes, in your opinion you didn’t deserve such tenderness.

he wrapped his arms around your frame, his hand on the back of your head and his face buried in your hair. he let you sob your heart out, even if it made his own heart ache. when you finally calmed down you were ready to speak.

“am i still the most important person in the world to you?” he smiled.

“of course you are.”

RYONUSUKE AKUTAGAWA:

you knew your boyfriend wasn’t good at communicating, a part of you had accepted that wholeheartedly. he made his efforts because of how deeply he cared for you and you felt that was enough most of the time. your arguments were mostly about his carelessness when it came to his own personal safety, his nonchalant attitude to your concerns irritated you down to your core.

“if you’re going to act stupid and put yourself in avoidable danger then i’m leaving, i can’t take this.” you misspoke, his eyes widened.

what you truly meant was that you were leaving for a moment to calm down, not leaving him entirely. you could only stare in shock at what nonsense you just spewed from your mouth, guilt weighed down your body, preventing you from taking even one step towards him. it took seeing the fear in his eyes to finally break you free from your mind.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean it like that i swear.” you tried to mend, now wanting nothing more than to put this whole argument behind you.

he let you pull him into a hug, you held his waist tightly to you. when you felt his hand holding the back of your head you breathed a sigh of relief.

“i know you didn’t mean it that way, but it scared me.” you nodded, understanding.

you mumbled a few more apologies and once you both had calmed down you were able to talk about some of your frustrations. it was mostly you talking and him listening, but it felt good knowing he was listening with such care. he promised to be more careful for you, and you promised to watch your wording when you’re upset.

[inkspiredwriting]

The Diner of Destiny - Part 2

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Okay, some of you wanted a second part. So I thought why not? I've never written a second part to any of my stories, so I'm not so sure if the second part is any good.

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst

Five wandered through the fractured remains of countless timelines, driven by a singular purpose: to find y/n, the woman he had unwittingly erased from existence. He had become a phantom, slipping between realities like a shadow, his resolve hardening with each failed attempt. Every timeline, every world was a dead end, a cruel reminder of the life he had obliterated with one careless choice. But giving up was never an option. He had to find her.

Weeks blurred into months as he tirelessly pursued the faintest hints of her existence. Fragmented memories, distorted whispers, and fleeting visions of a woman whose face he had never truly known. Each clue led him deeper into the labyrinth of time, and each step weighed heavier on his conscience. He was close—he could feel it.

Finally, one day, in a timeline that felt strangely still, as though it had been waiting for his arrival, Five found her.

She was sitting in a small, secluded garden, surrounded by overgrown ivy and vibrant flowers. The sun cast a warm, golden light over the scene, but there was an air of melancholy that clung to the place, as if it remembered the things that had been lost. Y/n was there, her back to him, her head bowed as she absentmindedly traced patterns in the dirt with a stick. She looked almost like a statue—beautiful, but untouchable, frozen in a moment that he had shattered.

Five approached her cautiously, his heart pounding in his chest. His footsteps crunched softly on the gravel path, and y/n looked up, startled. Her eyes met his, and for a brief, agonizing moment, it was as though she recognized him. But then the flicker of familiarity vanished, replaced by confusion.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice tinged with wariness but not fear. There was a gentleness in her tone that cut Five deeper than any anger could have.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, and for the first time in a long time, he hesitated. How could he explain the unimaginable? How could he make her understand what he had done?

“My name is Five,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m not sure how to say this, but… you were supposed to be someone important to me. To all of us, actually. But I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, and I… I lost you.”

Y/n’s brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words. “Lost me? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’ve never met before. How could you have lost me?”

Five’s chest tightened with the weight of his guilt. “You’re right. We’ve never met. But we should have. I was supposed to find you, fall in love with you. You were supposed to be my anchor, the person who kept me—and all the other versions of me—grounded across the timelines. But instead, I got involved with someone else, someone named Lila.”

At the mention of Lila’s name, Y/n’s expression softened, but only slightly. “Lila?” she echoed, the name unfamiliar and distant.

Five nodded, his voice trembling. “Yes. I thought I was making the right choice at the time, but it was the wrong one. Choosing Lila… it erased you from our lives. You were supposed to be there, and because of me, you weren’t. I took away your life, your future, and I didn’t even know it until it was too late.”

Y/n stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception or malice. But all she saw was a man haunted by his mistakes, a man who had come to her not for forgiveness, but for something even more elusive.

“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly, her voice laced with a sorrow she didn’t fully understand.

Five closed his eyes for a moment, gathering the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I can make things right, but I had to find you. I had to tell you what happened, even if it doesn’t change anything. I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry for what I took from you, for what I took from all of us. I just… I wanted you to know that you mattered. That you were supposed to matter.”

Y/n looked down at the ground, her hand still clutching the stick. She was silent for a long time, and Five feared that his words had only hurt her more, that there was nothing left to say. But then, she spoke, her voice soft and distant.

“Do you really believe we could have been happy?” she asked, almost to herself.

Five’s heart ached at the question, at the lost possibility of what could have been. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “But I would have liked to find out.”

Y/n nodded, her expression unreadable. “I can’t remember you,” she said softly. “But something in me feels… something. Maybe it’s just the idea of what could have been. Or maybe… maybe there’s something more.”

Five watched her, his breath catching in his throat. This was it—the moment that could change everything. But even as hope flickered within him, he knew the truth. He had come too late. The damage was done, and there was no going back.

“I wish I could change what happened,” he whispered. “But all I can do is tell you the truth. You deserved so much more than what I left you with.”

Y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that went beyond words. “Maybe we were never meant to be,” she said quietly. “Maybe… maybe this was always how it was supposed to end.”

Five shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “No. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. But it’s what I’ve made it. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Y/n stood slowly, the stick falling from her hand as she faced him fully. “I don’t know if I can forgive you,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I appreciate that you tried to make things right. Even if it’s too late.”

Five nodded, the tears finally spilling over as he met her gaze. “I’ll never stop trying to make it right,” he vowed. “Even if I never see you again, I’ll keep looking for a way to fix this.”

Y/n gave him a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of acceptance and resignation. “Goodbye, Five,” she said softly. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure growing smaller and smaller until she disappeared into the distance. Five stood there, alone in the garden, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He had found her, but he had also lost her—again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the garden in a blanket of twilight, Five knew that this was his burden to bear. He had made a choice, and now he would live with the consequences for the rest of his existence. The woman who was supposed to be his anchor, his salvation, was gone, and he was the one who had pushed her away.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of regrets, Five turned and walked back into the shadows, disappearing from the world that could have been his. The timelines would go on, fractured and unstable, and he would continue his endless search for redemption. But deep down, he knew the truth—some things could never be undone. And some losses were meant to be permanent.

The garden, now empty and silent, bore witness to a moment that had passed, a possibility that had slipped through time’s fingers. And as the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, Five’s silhouette faded into the night, carrying with him the memory of what could have been, and the sorrow of what never was.

[ghouldump]

God Complex | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ you want out, realizing your little family isn’t as perfect as you thought, but they would never let you slip away so easily.

i definitely went overboard 😅

“Lestat, you don’t have to do this,” Louis stressed.

“She has to learn, it’s either this, or we are exposed,” Lestat said, shutting the coffin. Under the pebbles you laid, crying, begging for forgiveness. Despite your attempts to break free, the coffin wouldn’t budge.

“Louis, please, Lestat, I’m sorry,” you screamed, your voice falling on deaf ears, as he shut the door of the basement, leaving you alone at the bottom of the townhouse.

“Neither of you are to let her out, a few days will teach her a needed lesson,” he pointed at the two. Louis looked distressed, knowing his companion was right, despite his desire to argue. While Claudia frowned, saddened by your cries, but knew better than to go against her father’s words.

“I’m sorry,” you kept crying. If only you could take it back. This was your second time acting so careless, and you knew better than to think Lestat would let you do this a third.

From the moment Lestat turned you, you were a wildflower. He loved how animalistic you became, while Louis enjoyed how sweet you remained. Claudia was happy to finally have someone new in their lives, other than the two.

You were exceptional at hunting, and Lestat became lenient, oftentimes letting you wander. You’d find your meal, and quickly and efficiently discard the mess. However, when the arrogant salesman came into the bar, speaking to everyone as if they were beneath him, your tongue tingled at the sight.

The thought of him submitting and begging for mercy turned you on beyond comprehension. Biting your lip, you stood, approaching him, intentionally bumping his shoulder. His hand went to your waist, as he began to apologize, while his eyes not so discreetly roamed.

“Garret Anderson, darling,” he introduced, as you shook his hand.

“Hi,” you smiled, mischievously.

“Not him, choose someone else,” you heard Louis’s voice. Usually, you’d listen, but you couldn’t this time, not when the smell of his blood made you feel feral in the best way.

“Would you like to dance-

“Come with me,” you ignored him, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the establishment. He grinned, thinking he had won a prize when he was walking straight into the trap.

Pushing him into the dim alley, you slipped your tongue into his mouth, pressing your body against his own.

“Oh, I don’t think I got your name”

“You don’t worry about my name, sugar, just focus on my voice,” you told him, as he looked into your eyes.

“Ok,” he nodded, hypnotized.

“Y/n, Lestat doesn’t want you to choose him,” Claudia said, as you bare your teeth.

“It’s too late,” you spoke, biting his neck, drinking his life away.

“Please,” you heard him inaudible beg, his grip loosening from your arm, as his form began to weaken.

“What part of not him did you not understand?” Lestat asked, snappily, standing behind you, as you released the man, watching his corpse sink to the wet ground.

“Was I supposed to play with my food?” You pouted, the action usually worked, but this time he kept the harsh gaze.

“This man is related to Tom Anderson and the last person he has been seen with, was you,” he said angrily.

“I didn't know, and I always clean up after myself,” you defended.

“That isn’t the point, you get the order to choose another and you still chose to disobey, putting all of our lives at risk, again,” Lestat said, trying to keep his composure, feeling himself about to yell.

“We can talk about this when we get home, Claudia and I will clean up,” Louis said, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

However, after the body was burned, Lestat continued to yell, before deciding to bury you in the rock-filled coffin, as a punishment. 

You weren’t sure how long you were locked away, starving. It could have only been days, but on an empty stomach, it felt like weeks. You cried for too many hours, begging, trying to communicate with Louis and Claudia - but no one ever came. No one would come, you’d be left here to starve to death until Lestat was ready to release you.

You began to dream, imagining yourself on all kinds of adventures. Traveling to different countries, tasting the different people, none of which Lestat planned on doing soon. He made the rules and you all went along, occasionally finding compromise. Finally, after what felt like forever, the coffin was opened.

Louis worriedly pulled you out, Claudia dusting the rocks off of you. Lestat didn’t say a word, standing behind the two, watching as they tended to you. Slowly approaching you, he placed his hand under you jaw, making you look up.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he said, before making his way upstairs.

“Y/n,” you jumped, snapping out of the trance as Louis opened the coffin, holding his hand out for you to grab.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly, as he grinned, helping you out.

“It’s alright, why don’t you get dressed, and we’ll be waiting on you,” he winked, leaving you to change.

As you made your way down the stairs, you kept your eyes down, feeling his gaze.

Claudia was first to swing the door open, excitedly skipping out of the house - Louis not too far behind. Gulping, you went to follow him, when Lestat grabbed your waist, stopping you.

“You look nice, ma chèrie,” he complimented.

“Thank you,” you smiled, rushing to join Louis.

You didn’t wander, staying close with the group, choosing the easiest target. You’d always preferred your meal flamboyant, the loudest in the room always had the sweetest blood. However, you were too afraid to upset Lestat, ending up in the cramped coffin again.

Cleaning your mouth, you sat on one of the many benches in the park. You were still hungry, starving actually. The pathetic excuse of a human was no where near filling. As Lestat and Louis approached, their meals close behind like lambs being led to the slaughter, you got up.

Entering the house, you were about to follow Claudia upstairs, when Lestat grabbed your hand, leading you back down.

“I want you to be more vigilant about prey, not neglect and starve yourself, come, we have a plus one,” he told you, before announcing to the trio of men you’d be joining them.

“Do you think there is more to life than New Orleans?” You asked your coworker, Carol.

“I ain’t got time to think about that Y/n, I’m 24 and already a widow with an infant,” she huffed, wiping the table.

Opening your eyes you stared up at the coffin, trying to think back. You didn’t remember too much about your mortal life, not even your family. You worked at a bar when you met Louis and Lestat, both incredibly charming. You were interesting to them, this wasn’t anything new for Lestat, he had no problem admiring multiple people. Louis on the other hand, was surprised by his interest. You were easy on the eyes with the kindest soul, lighting up the room with your presence.

You ended up getting pneumonia and despite taking the needed medication, you began to succumb. On the brink of death, you saw him, was he a god? angel of death? You didn’t know, tiredly watching as the two men exchanged words of agreement, before he lifted you, biting your neck.

You remembered the agony, throwing up as your body rejected your soul, killing itself. Louis carried you, while Lestat led the way, and the rest of your memory was gone.

Opening your coffin, you looked around the room, each side of you was a black coffin, empty. Noticing the small note on Lestat’s as you climbed out.

‘Louis and I have business to attend to this evening, I trust you will hunt with Claudia, ma chèrie’ - L

Sitting the letter down, you walked down the stairs. Knowing Claudia, she had already left. Slipping on your shoes you began to walk the streets. The memories replayed in the back of your mind, as your feet aimlessly moved. Recognizing your surroundings, you slowed down, staring into the bar you’d plucked the Anderson relative from.

Suddenly, someone bumped your shoulder, catching your attention. An older woman, holding shopping bags.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry-Y/n?” You were stuck like a dear caught in headlights.

“God has brought my baby home, don’t just stand there and give your mama a hug,” she sat the bags down, as you cautiously approached, letting her tightly wrap her arms around you.

You were thankful for the times you practiced restraint and self control. It had been nearly three years of being a vampire, stuck at 26 and you grew better and better at controlling your urges around mortals, despite the occasional slip ups.

“Mama?”

“Oh baby, I knew you’d come back eventually, how was New York?” She asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“New York?” You questioned, confused.

“Why don’t you come home, just for tonight?” She asked, hopeful. Slowly you nodded, letting her lead you to her car, handing the bags to her driver, you sat in the back seat next to her. Looking around, you hoped your surroundings would seem familiar but you had no clue where you were headed. After nearly fifteen minutes of driving, and your mother gushing about how much you were missed, the car began to slow down.

As the large house came into view, you frowned, unable to remember living there. The driver parked, and the front door opened.

“Did you get-Y/n? Y/n is back,” the younger boy who was exiting the house stopped, jumping for joy, screaming inside. A few more people came out, a familiar face catching your attention.

“Y/n,” the woman screamed, running to you, colliding into you, as she wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Carol, can you make sure Y/n is made comfortable,” your mother asked.

“Of course, mama,” she nodded, grabbing your hands, leading you into the house.

“What’s with your eyes?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” she let it go, as you stopped near the stairs, seeing all of the portraits. Family portraits. You stood amongst them, in the photos, even a painted portrait of yourself, along with your siblings.

“Daddy is going to be very happy to see you,” she smiled, pulling you up the stairs to a bedroom.

“Where is he?” You asked, eyeing the room before you sat next to her on the bed.

“At the sugar mill, duh, you know he’s a workaholic,” she laughed, before sitting up.

“So how have you been? The last time I saw you, you were going on and on about that De Pointe Du Lac,” she smirked, biting her lip.

“I’m fine, Louis is fine,” you nodded.

“My god, you married him? I hear he has a popular business in the quarter-

“No, we have a…companionship, if that makes sense,” you mumbled, as she raised her eyebrows.

“Oh? That’s nice-

“Daddy’s home,” the younger boy burst into the room, his eyes focused on you.

Standing up, you followed Carol from the room, down the stairs. Seeing the men and women standing downstairs, you stared plainly. These were your siblings and yet you couldn’t remember or feel a thing.

“It’s good to see you,” the man, your brother, smiled, pulling you into a side hug before you followed them into the dining room.

Your father sat already, at the head of the table. Turning to face you, he stood up, you could hear his heart pounding, trembling. Slowly approaching you, you spoke up.

“Daddy,” you tried to sound as normal as possible, when he slung his arms around you. He began to cry, while you listened in on his thoughts. You were his favorite.

“You two come sit, stop crying before I start too,” your mother laughed, as your father pulled away in agreement.

“So how was New York?”

“Yeah and why didn’t you say goodbye, like you send a letter and disappear for three years,” your younger sister interrupted.

“Deloris, stop it, I’m sure Y/n wanted to stop by but couldn’t,” your mother interjected.

“I-New York was fine, very beautiful,” you said, accepting one of the many bowls of food being passed along. Taking a small piece of meat, you sat it on your nearly empty plate.

“You came just in time for Joseph’s engagement, he’s met a fine young lady from Gretna, Sarah, she’ll be here in a few days,” your mother pointed at your brother.

“Finally, he’s nearly 30 and we never thought he’d get married,” your younger brother said, making everyone laugh.

“Congratulations,” you told Joseph.

“Thank you, and have you married, or are you with someone?”

“I have companions,” you smiled, nervously.

“Multiple?” Your father asked, stunned.

“One of them is Louis,” Carol clapped.

“The De Point Du Lac? I hear he lives with that French man-

“Lestat De Lioncourt, god to be under him for a night”

“Deloris, watch your mouth”

“Sorry”

“You managed to stay in contact with him, but couldn’t reach out to your family?” Your father spoke, a saddened expression.

“It’s complicated,” you mumbled.

“You don’t think it’s a bit…scandalous to have two lovers, who is the other?” your mother asked.

“Lestat,” you said, clearing your throat, bracing yourself as nearly everyone gasped.

“Lucky,” Deloris snickered.

‘Y/n, where are you?’ You heard Clauia’s voice, but you didn’t respond.

“Y/n, please tell me you're joking,” your father shook his head.

“I don’t think this is a laughing matter,” you said, straightening your posture.

‘Y/n, where are you at?’ Louis asked, making you clinch your jaw.

“You kept in contact with those peculiar men, but it never crossed your mind to come home,” he slightly raised his voice.

“I said it was complicated,” you screamed over him, stabbing the fork into the meat, breaking the plate, before standing up, going to storm out of the house.

“Y/n, wait,” your mother chased you, stopping you before you could leave.

“I’m sorry I came here,” you apologized.

“No no, everyone is handling you being home differently, stay, you can go up to your room, here, I have something for you,” she reached for your cold hand, her warm thumb brushing over your veins. Leading you upstairs in the room, she went to the nightstand, pulled out a diary, handing it to you.

“I kept it, in case you ever came home, and I made sure no one read it,” she smiled sadly, kissing your forehead before she turned to leave.

‘Ma chèrie, enough of this, come home’ Lestat said. You knew they were probably worried, for him to also use his powers to reach out to you.

‘I won’t be home tonight,’ you spoke, sending the message.

“Did you say something, honey?” Your mother stopped, turning to face you.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head, watching as she exited the room.

Opening the book, your fingers traced down the words, the minor annotations, and little drawings on the side. You could still hear your vampire family faintly in your head when the room door opened.

“Hey, Daddy is sorry, he’s too ashamed of how he acted to face you right now, but I’m just letting you know, that Joseph, Antony, and Loretta left,” Carol spoke.

“Ok,” you chuckled.

“Also, I apologize in advance for the noise, Frankie is coming home soon and he is still a handful,” she laughed.

“Frankie?”

“Yes and he is going to be so excited to see his favorite Aunt,” she said, before shutting the door.

Closing the curtain, grabbing a pillow, and climbing under the bed, you read the diary. Entry to entry, you consumed the thoughts of your former self, your heart growing more confused as you began to remember. By the time you finished, Claudia and Louis became silent while the sun was peeking into the room.

Slamming the book shut, your mind ran wild, questioning everything you thought you’d known. Your nails digging into the floor. Feeling the bloody tear slip down your eye, you quickly wiped it, as a you heard a soft knock.

“Y/n? Y/n?” Your mother called out, a bit of panic in her voice.

“I’m under here,” you called out, waving from under the bed.

Lifting her dress, she moved to the floor, her eyes widening seeing you.

“What are you doing under here, honey?” She asked.

“I…I recently was diagnosed with a disease, my skin doesn’t react well in the sun anymore, burning, irritation, the doctor says I should avoid it altogether,” you said, almost feeling guilty for lying, hearing how much it saddened her thoughts.

“I see, give me a few hours and I’ll make sure things are more comfortable around here, you try to get some sleep, love you”

“I love you too,” you said, watching as she left the room.

‘Y/n, please tell me you are okay, we can’t sleep’ you heard Louis’s voice.

‘I am fine’

‘Where are you?’

‘That is none of any of your concerns’

‘Don’t be like that, what's the matter-

You shut your eyes, blocking out Louis’ voice, taking deep breaths, you thought about the words from the diary, as the sleep passed over you.

‘Mama and daddy have been arguing as of lately. I’m 25 with no boyfriend or engagement, still living with them. Daddy doesn’t see a problem with it, I have more time to find the perfect husband he argues, while Mama thinks I’m not even looking. I haven’t been, but that’s because as special as New Orleans is, no one seems special enough to catch my attention. Since the issue has come up, I’ve found myself with Carol more. She is trying to find a new husband, a new father for Frankie, since his dad died in the Navy’

“All of the bachelors come here, you just might find yourself a treat,” Carol giggled, as the two of you sat at the table. The fancy restaurant in the French Quarter wasn’t too interesting to you. You were already wealthy, and guaranteed quite the inheritance, while all of the women stood around, almost looking as if they were waiting on their lottery ticket.

“Do you ever wonder if there is more to life, than New Orleans?” You asked her boredly, as she made eye contact with the banker, waving at him.

“I ain’t got time to think about that Y/n, I’m 24 and already a widow with an infant,” she told you, standing, before walking to the man, sure to sway her hips, reeking of seduction.

Now alone, you sipped your wine, leaning back in your seat. The few men who looked your way eventually backed away, as you kept a scowl on your face.

“If you keep your face like that, it might get stuck,” you heard, making you turn to face the crèole man.

“If only I could see the appeal of this restaurant, then I wouldn’t frown,” you told him, as he sat down.

“I agree, everything is so tasteless and looks so-

“Cheap,” you and the blonde-haired man said at the same time, making you smile.

“I’m Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Louis de Pointe du Lac,” he accepted your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles.

“And you, do you have a name?”

“Lestat De Lioncourt,” he said, taking your hand from Louis, kissing your knuckles.

“Would you like to get out of here?” Louis started.

“Sorry boys, I hope you didn’t think I was that easy,” you pouted, laughing as Carol approached.

“You ready to go?” You asked, seeing the look of disappointment on her face.

“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms.

“It was wonderful to meet you both, goodbye”, you told them, standing up, and walking with Carol back to the car. Looking back, your eyes met theirs once more before you were on your way.

‘Lestat and Louis, there had been plenty of rumors that the two were lovers, even I was sure they were. However, they continued to reach out, inviting me to spend time with them. Carol’s friend, Lucy, thinks they might be competing to win my hand in marriage, but I think it’s far from that.’

“Mr. De Lioncourt hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night,” Lucy bumped your shoulder, as you stood amongst the women. You were trying to not be “shameless” keeping your contact with Lestat and Louis to a minimum. However, their eyes had been glued on you from the moment you entered the party, and they weren’t even hiding it.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” one of the women rolled her eyes, perking up, as they approached.

“Ma chèrie, you never responded to our letter,” Lestat told you, as you stared at the two of them surprised but confused.

“With your flowers,” Louis said, as you gasped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice a note with them, they are in my room, I’ll look when I’m home”

“Please do, we’re dying to know your response,” he told you, slinging his arm around Louis as they walked away. All of the women frowning in jealousy, while Carol laughed at them.

‘They are together, Lestat and Louis are together, but they like the idea of sharing? After a night of passion, I think it’s best that I stay away from the fabulously handsome men. I could never explain what happened to anyone without being judged, and so I will keep it to myself. They have been trying to reach out, but I am throwing every letter away. I hope they can understand.’

“I’m assuming you’re not a party girl?” Louis asked you, making you jump, swiftly turning around.

“This kind of party isn’t my thing, all of these people, hoping to get on my father’s good side, it's pathetic,” you crossed your arms, as he approached.

“How did you find where I was?” You asked him, tilting your head. You were hidden in your mother’s miniature hedge maze, sure no one would find you.

“I followed your scent, you always smell nice,” he grinned, while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“You shouldn’t have followed me, what if I was a monster? luring you away from everyone,” you smirked at him.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be the monster”

“Why do you think that?” You squinted at him, making him laugh.

“You’re too cute, too precious, you should be more careful, you could’ve been being followed by a big bad wolf,” he taunted.

“I can defend myself perfectly fine”

“Is that right?”

“Of course,” you smiled, watching as he leaned forward, his lips pressing against your own. Wrapping his arm around your waist, you moaned, before he pulled away.

Gasping, you noticed Lestat standing only feet away. Taking his usual confident strides, he stopped in front of Louis, the two sharing a passionate kiss. As the kiss broke off, he walked around to you, his hand softly going to the back of your neck, before he pulled you into a kiss.

“Be our companion…”

“Our’s alone…”

“Ok,” you agreed, not understanding at the time, the situation you'd put yourself in.

Standing in front and behind you, they took turns, kissing from your neck to mouth, slowly removing the articles of clothing. By the time you were finished, they laid in the grass, smiling, praising you, while you hurriedly dressed.

“I have to go,” you told them, running away, your hand going to your neck, where a bite mark resided.

‘My intuition was wrong about the two, Lestat and Louis are dangerous. Lestat seemed possessive, he didn’t like the idea of me entertaining another man besides him or Louis. But Louis, he seemed convinced I was perfect with the two of them, they both just seemed delusional. I recently caught the pneumonia virus and I’m trying to heal, and get over the fact that I was sick for my birthday but their constant sending of gifts isn’t making me feel any better.’

“Y/n, honey,” your mother called out, making you open your eyes.

“Yes?”

“It is safe to come out,” she said, as you slowly made your way out, noticing the windows covered by a board.

Leading you down the stairs, you felt uncomfortable seeing your siblings stare at you like an animal in zoo.

“Mama told us about your skin condition, I’m sorry, I-we can have the engagement at night,” Joseph offered.

“I couldn’t do that to you-

“It would be a pleasure, I want you there, and Sarah won’t mind, she’ll be here tomorrow”

“Then I’d love that,” you smiled, nodding.

“Wonderful, I have something you can wear,” your mother clapped.

“I was hoping I could talk to you, about something,” you told your mother, as she sat on the sofa.

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Do you remember when I was sick, with the pneumonia?”

“Yes”

“When I was staying in the hospital-

“Hospital? You didn’t stay in a hospital, you were in your room. We were so worried, when you first caught it, but your body fought hard, you were better in no time,” she said, her hand on her heart.

“How long was I here before I left, for New York? Reading the diary has my brain a little foggy,” you told her.

“Only a few days after, I believe, before you left your letter,” she said, looking away at the memory.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, trying to remember what happened. The fuzzy memory slightly coming back.

“It’s okay, honey, you’re here now,” she waved.

Sitting up in bed, pillows propped up behind you, you listened to the vinyl jazz music. Playing low in the room you hummed lightly. Everyone had left the previous day, going to see relatives, but you were still too sick to go. Although you were already feeling better, no longer bed-bound with a nasty fever. Hearing the sound of the front door opening, your ears perked up, as you climbed out of the bed. Stopping the music, you slowly tiptoed out of the room, stopping at the top of the stairs

“Ma chèrie, it isn’t nice to ignore people who care about you,” Lestat said from the bottom of the stairs.

Shaking your head, you went to run, bumping into Louis. Who also, didn’t look too happy, backing down the stairs, you froze, seeing Lestat slowly walk up to you. You were trapped, dropping to your knees, you shielded yourself.

“Please,” you covered your face, gasping in confusion as you were lifted, carefully brought to the sofa in the living room.

“You haven’t seen any of our letters?” Louis asked angrily before Lestat spoke.

“You ignored us out of society-inflicted shame,” Lestat started.

“No, it was nothing more than casual sex,” you said before he squished your cheeks together.

“If you weren’t so afraid of being judged by society, would you continue to deny yourself the pleasures you deserve?” Lestat asked, sitting next to you.

“One of you bit me, I don’t think I want either of you,” you told him as he chuckled before you noticed his abnormally sharp teeth. Fangs.

“She doesn't want us, hear that Louis, we’re being rejected by our companion,” Lestat laughed loudly, as Louis stared at you as if you had two heads.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and your parents and your younger siblings entered the house. Doing a double take, your father frowned.

“What's going on in here?”

“Nothing Daddy, we're just talking,” you stood up, moving in between him and the two peculiar men. Looking at them, you noticed the fangs in Louis's mouth.

“I don't think so, you two boys need to leave my house,” he said, the look on their faces showed they were highly offended at the choice of words.

“I am no boy, I am much older than you…” Lestat stood up.

“Don't hurt them,” you told them, your eyes going from Louis to Lestat.

“Perhaps we can get to an agreement, they are spared, in exchange for your companionship,” Lestat offered. You searched for his face, trying to see if he was serious, while he stood, waiting on your response.

“Fine,” you sighed, watching as Louis approached your family, putting them into a trance.

“You came home and went straight to bed, Y/n was feeling better and decided to spend time with some friends tonight-

“You should grab your things, ma chérie, and don't worry, that shame and fear instilled into you will be no more in a short while,” he told you, ushering you to go upstairs, while Louis made up a story to your family.

By the time you finished packing, they were gone, only Louis and Lestat waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. Not saying a word, you followed them to the car, trying to let the realization sink in, but it still all seemed surreal.

Entering their home you nervously followed them, into the bedroom.

“You can meet Claudia later,” Louis said, as they stared at you.

“Your daughter?”

“Our daughter,” he corrected you, but nodded.

“Ok”

“Y/n, the love that we’ve grown for you, it’s inhumanly, meant to be shared for an eternity, we can give you that,” Louis told you.

“You’re scared, I can make sure you don’t feel any pain, I can give you a piece of everlasting life. None of the things you have in this life hold any value to you, but I can give you something you will cherish,” Lestat told you.

“Choose us and we’ll choose you for the rest of eternity,” Louis said, before you hesitatingly nodded.

“You won’t be in pain for long,” Lestat told you, before he pulled you close, biting into your neck. Falling limb in his arms, he laid you on the bed, cutting his wrist, feeding his blood to you.

Shortly after, your body felt like it was on fire, your vision blurry. The two men stood over you, talking, Louis asking for a favor and Lestat debating on if he wanted to give in.

“Do it, before it’s too late, please,” he said, before Lestat looked at him, nodding, and facing you.

“Look at me, ma chèrie, you used to be a waitress at a bar…we were frequent customers when you met us….” As Lestat told you the fabricated story, he made sure to completely conceal your memory of your mortal life, as Louis requested.

As the memory came to mind your hands went to your eyes, trying to stop the bloody tears from leaking. The memory that changed the way that you viewed your maker and companions.

“Are you alright dear?” your mother asked, worried.

“I'm fine, mama, just happy to be home,” you told her, making her smile.

“Awe, honey, I'm glad that you are home, we all are,” she gushed, pulling you into a firm hug, before continuing with her conversation with your sibling.

‘Y/n’ Louis called out to you.

“Excuse me,” you said, getting up, going to the bathroom.

‘Leave me alone, please’ you told him.

‘Where is this coming from?’

‘I just need this time away, it’s just me time’ you told him, staring at your reflection.

‘Y/n, are you coming home?’ You heard Claudia.

‘Eventually’

‘Alright, love you’

‘Love you too’ you told her, before leaving the bathroom.

“Y/n, I just wanted to apologize for my outburst last night. What you do in your private life is your business, and I’m happy you’re home,” your father said, nervously, as you came back into the living room. Smiling, you didn’t say anything, approaching him, pulling him into a hug.

As night fell, everyone turning in for bed, you went to the backyard, thankful to find a few rodents to feed on. With your hunger satisfied, you went to your room. Sitting at the desk, you ripping a piece of paper from the diary, grabbing an envelope from the drawer.

‘I don’t think this companionship will work out anymore. Lie after lie, neither of you have been honest or truthful with me. I thought relationships were built and thrived on trust. Not ours, a big lie to feed both of your delusional obsessions. Stay away from me. I will be leaving New Orleans soon, probably headed back to New York’ you wrote, placing a stamp on the envelope.

“Hey,” you called out, as you went outside stopping the teenage boy on his bike.

“Bring this to Lestat De Lioncourt, his address is 1132 Royal Street,” you hypnotized the boy.

“But that’s all the way in the French Quarter,” he said in a monotone voice.

“I know, you will go right before the sun rises and it is okay because you were paid to do this,” you told him, watching as he smiled.

“You’re right,” he nodded, accepting the letter, before taking the money in his other hand, stuffing it into his pocket.

“Go on now, it’s getting late,” you told him, as he nodded, riding home to his house as you went inside.

“Y/n, you okay, darling?” Your father stood at the top of the stares.

“I’m ok, daddy,” you smiled, going upstairs to your bedroom.

Just as the sun began to rise, the young boy peddled his bike, careful to stay out of the way of any cars. For a second he wished his dad could have driven him, the 30 minutes bike ride would have been much shorter in a car.

Finally, he arrived, panting, he approached the townhouse. Opening the gate, he approached the door. Knocking softly, before speaking.

“Mail for Lestat De Lioncourt,” he said, pushing the letter through the mail slot, before he left to peddle home.

Still wide awake, Lestat stood from his piano, approaching the door, stopping. He watched at the young hand slipped in, the letter floating to the floor, before the sound of the footsteps became distant.

Reading the letter, he felt a series of emotions, sadness, rage, disappointment.

“Louis,” he called out, his companion jogged down the stairs in confusion.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n remembers,” he gulped, as the two looked at each other.

“Looks like we’ll have to make a stop tonight,” Louis said, before going back to his coffin.

“You’re just as beautiful as Joseph said you were,” you gushed to Sarah. The house was filled with guests, the sun had set not too long ago, and the night was still young.

“Oh my, thank you, he talked about you all the time, I never thought I’d meet you,” she said.

“Y/n, come here,” Carol called from the kitchen, before you excused yourself, joining her.

“What?”

“Mr. Alexandre is asking to see you,” she lightly pushed you in the direction of the living room.

“Who?”

“He’s one of Daddy’s associates, he’s young, rich, and handsome,” she said.

“And why don’t you talk to him?”

“He wants to speak with you and I’d prefer his brother, I hear he’s a widower,” she whispered, as you turned, walking towards where the man stood, amongst a few other businessmen.

“Miss Y/n,” the man called out, stepping forward.

“Mr. Alexandre,” you said, accepting his hand.

“If I could have a moment with you…”

“You may,” you said, walking into the hallway with him, near the stairs. You could feel his colleagues staring at the two of you.

“What is it?”

“I was hoping I could take you out for dinner, perhaps the steamboat, there is a nice band that plays-

“I am sorry, but no thank you,” you shook your head, about to leave, but he gripped your forearm.

“A little birdy told me that you have a thing going on with the European and crèole man in the quarter, I thought they were homo-

“Mr. Alexandre, my personal business is none of your concern”

“Then to have that little girl with them, like she’s their daughter, it’s twisted. You don’t need to get involved with them, tarnishing your reputation,” he said, making you think back to the society-inflicted shame Lestat spoke about.

“Do not speak about my reputation or any of them,” you shoved him, watching as he collided into the wall. A few people gasped, coming to see what was the commotion.

“Y/n, what happened?” Your father asked as the front door opened.

Along with a gust of wind Lestat, Louis, and Claudia all walked in, heads turning as everyone murmured about them. All of the eyes were on them and they never looked their way, solely focused on you.

“Y/n, why haven’t you come home?” Claudia ran to you, pulling you into a hug. You could feel how tense she felt, you frowned at the thought of her being upset.

“I’m sorry,” you told her, closing your eyes and taking in her usually sweet scent.

“Y/n,” your mother called out, now standing next to your father, a confused expression in place.

Before you could say anything, Lestat turned her way, gasping, you stepped up, when he turned facing you. Immediately you stopped, your eyes going down, while he moved closer.

“Madame,” he held out his hand, accepting hers, before placing a soft kiss on it.

“Get away from my wife,” your father said, taking her hand back.

“So you was gonna leave home?” Louis asked you, taking off his glasses.

“You lied to me, both of you did,” you told him.

“Louis, what is she talking about?”

“Nothing, go wait outside Claudia”

“Louis-

“It’s okay, go wait outside,” you told her, watching as she walked away, bumping the shoulder of a few guests, scaring them.

“You…both of you, did this to me, and for what? to satisfy your fantasies-

“To save you, you don’t belong with these people, their rules and principles, your nature goes against all of it. You could have never been happy with the way they wanted you to become,” Lestat told you.

“Y/n, it’s not safe to be around any of them, how long do you think you’ll be able to resist your urges, it’s best to leave them where they’re at,” Louis told you.

“Is this the brainwash they both feed you, two queer men trying to destroy and isolate everything you’ve known. I wouldn’t burden you with such ideologies,” Mr. Alexandre said, standing up, limping off the pain.

“And what are those ideologies, you speak of?” The tension thickened in the room as Lestat was in front of him within a flash.

“I-I-“ he began to stutter.

“These ideologies include being unapologetic even if it goes against society, not putting limitations on yourself, and redefining what family is. None of these things you know anything of because you think Y/n is as brainless as the rest of these women,” Lestat said before roughly grabbing his jaw.

“You could learn a thing or two before you let your mouth run so loosely,” he said, shoving him, watching as he collided with the wall, breaking through the wallpaper.

“Now you-

Lestat raised his hand, freezing everyone in the room, as your father began to yell.

“Your memory was wiped away, but everything has been real. Our love, Claudia’s love, nothing was forced. These people have caused you nothing but anxiety and shame, but if you want to throw us away, for them, I won’t stop you,” Lestat screamed, storming away, as the bloody tear slipped from his eyes.

“I thought I could balance both lives, it isn’t possible,” Louis told you, as you kept your head down.

“Is it possible to take away their memory, I won’t kill them, if they could just go on with their lives like before I was here,” you asked, while he immediately nodded.

Lestat had been right about so many things, how different you were, the restrictions you felt in your previous life. You weren’t ready to be on your own, you still needed your family. Perhaps it was better for you to not have been aware of the truth, to begin with.

“That can be arranged,” he said, motioning for you to go outside with Claudia. Stopping in front of your mother, you kissed her cheek, before leaving the house.

Getting into the backseat of the car with Claudia, she intertwined her fingers with your own. Lestat didn’t say a word to you, walking back into the house, as everyone unfroze.

After nearly 15 long minutes, the two left the house. You could see the party continuing, Carol could be seen with a small boy in her arms, accepting him from an older woman. The entire ride home was painfully quiet. The faint music from the locals could be heard as the house came more into view.

Claudia went to her room, while you meekly followed the two to your shared room. Stepping out of their clothing, they were preparing for rest, when you stopped.

“Lestat, I-please make me forget again,” you asked, making them look at each other, before staring at you.

“After all of this-

Moving to your knees, you crawled to him, prepared to beg to him, as if he was your god. Raising his eyebrow, even he looked surprised by your actions.

“Please make me forget, and we can go back to how we were,” you told him. Reaching for his hand, your head laid upon it, begging for your wish to be granted.

“Stand up, ma chèrie”

“How was the hunt?” Louis asked as you and Claudia both entered the house.

“Wonderful,” you laughed, plopping next to him. Lestat sat at his piano, idly pressing the keys that still managed to sound effortless.

“What are you doing?” You asked Louis, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Catching up on the paper, gorgeous,” he smiled, flipping the newspaper.

Your eyes widened at the image of the article, L/n Sugar Mill family home is burned down, leaving no survivors after an extravagant engagement party.

“Wow, and that was such a nice house,” you said, pointing out the picture, before picking up a nearby book.

“It was,” Louis agreed lowly, the trio briefly making eye contact.

With your memory wiped once again, the last thing any of them wanted was another situation that could cause you to want to break away from them. No one could ever come close to loving you like the three and they made sure there was no would who would awaken your memories, tearing you away from your little family.

this may or may not be deleted later …

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 7

content warning: mentions of blood, some violence, FINALLY 18+ so MDNI, dry humping 😁, like a smidge of fluff, some Spanish (as always, correct me if I'm wrong)

word count: 2.3k (we're back with some sense)

Prev | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

Gabriel jumped as the grand doors slammed closed.

The room was quiet minus Kron groaning on the floor.

“I’m going to kill him!” he shouts, hand trying to cover his bloodied nose.

“If you try, you’ll be disowned,” Tyler frowned down at him. Gabriel had never seen him without a smile on his face. It was scary yet familiar. It was times like this that Gabriel was reminded that he and Miguel were different.

“Dad, are you fucking serious? He just assaulted me!” Kron cried in disbelief as Nancy tried her best to clean his face.

“It was nothing you didn’t deserve. Surely, you’re grateful that I pulled him away.”

“Tyler. Our son is hurt! And bleeding out on my expensive carpet,” Nancy bit back, snapping at a butler to bring her a health kit.

“My other son is also hurt,” Tyler replies with his voice even, looking at Nancy and Kron as if they’ve lost it.

Gabriel could see George tense up at Tyler’s acknowledgement of Miguel as his.

“All this time and effort spent on putting this whole thing together and for what? What did I gain?” Tyler said lowly as he took his glasses off.

“I’ve spent two decades raising you and the older you’ve gotten, the more you have disappointed me. Twenty years spending dollar after dollar on your schooling and wellbeing. Ten years of watching you grow. Ten more years of watching you drift and become someone I’m not sure I can even call mine. What happened to my boy? What have you done with him?”

Gabriel was outwardly wary of what would happen next. Internally though? He was bullet-pointing every dig.

His name wasn’t Gossip Gabriel for nothing.

He watched as Kron shook on the floor. A simple hangnail could probably make him breakdown.

“Almost two decades I’ve watched from the sidelines as my son grew up without me. I watched as another man took my place. I watched as my careless actions were formed into a son that I could not connect to, talk to, or even hold. So please, forgive me if the few times, no, the one time I have the opportunity to build that connection, I am furious that it is ruined by my eldest son and his entitlement.”

“Entitlement!? What entitlement? Every time I say something it’s wrong, but Miguel is all of a sudden this perfect son that you wish you had. I wasn’t the one that ran that girl away.”

“Watch it, boy,” Conchata hisses.

“No, you watch it!” Nancy snapped back.

“Silence!” Tyler’s voice boomed throughout the house. “What all of you fail to realize is that the special guests have been iced out of my home! Kron, I may not have been there for you at every moment, but I have never taught you to disrespect women like you’ve done tonight. You owe several apologies.”

“You cheated on mom to have a bastard baby.”

Gabriel only blinks as Tyler moves to hit Kron in the mouth. Just as fast as Miguel.

“And what your mother fails to tell you is that she cheated first. I am not perfect, but neither was she.”

“Escandaloso,” Gabriel leans over to whisper to Dana.

“It would be best for us to talk after you’ve gone to the hospital. Make haste, lest you make me angry, son,” Tyler says with venom-coated words.

Nancy, with help from one of the butlers, scrambled to get Kron up and out of the door.

Tyler took a deep breath and put his glasses back on. He turned to Conchata as started to unbutton his cufflinks.

“Conchata,” he said. “Level with me, what did you really not like about Miguel’s girlfriend tonight? I know you too well and her weight is not the problem. She’s beautiful, intelligent, talented, and we can both see that Miguel loves her.”

It was Conchata’s turn to look shocked. She looked around to everyone staring at her, waiting for a proper answer.

She stuttered trying to get her sentences out, “Why am I being held to the fire right now?”

“Ma, I’m not sure if you remember, but you quite literally criticized her body and expression,” Gabriel said. He was never afraid to step up to her when it came to Miguel, he just had to gauge how far he could go.

“I didn’t intend to do that,” Conchata starts.

“Honey, you stopped her from eating her food,” George chides. “It doesn’t get any worse than that.”

Conchata was silent as she sat back down, staring at the centerpiece, “I just-”

“No puedo creer que fueras tan grosera con ella, Conchata. Miguelito is right. You should be ashamed,” Gabriel’s abuela said. (I can’t believe you were so rude to her, Conchata.)

She got up and came to Conchata’s side, “You have fussed at him all his life. Nothing he did was ever good enough for you. You can not choose now to try and control him.”

“Tyler, can you have someone take me back home? Oh! And pack me one of those yummy cherries too,” she said as she gave him a hug and a pat on the cheek. She then proceeded to give everyone a goodbye but her daughter.

“I truly apologize for this hectic night,” Tyler announced to the room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go see how I can make this up to Miguel. You all can use my home however you need.”

Gabriel cleared his throat now that he was left in a room with his parents and Dana, “Well. Did you guys like the meal?”

“I thought the filet mignon was fabulous,” Dana replied.

They leaned together and giggled.

Gabriel had a lot to spill to Miguel.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You wake up unbelievably warm, the bed sheets piled on top of you. You lift your head from the thick pillow, and waited as the AC hit your face.

Sun was coming in through the cracks of the drapes. It was all quiet except for the light snore coming from Miguel’s side of the bed.

You turn to him and he’s out from under the covers, bare muscly back to the world. You swallow around nothing as you watch the ripples of his muscles move with his breath.

Who knew you were going to wake up to this delicious sight?

You move quietly, shuffling to the bathroom to pee and freshen up. You felt miles better than you did last night. You felt even better as the memories come back to you. Your boyfriend really took a stand for you.

When you walk out the bathroom, you don’t expect Miguel to be sitting up on the edge of the bed, bed head and sleepy eyes.

“Are you up? I didn’t mean to wake you,” you say, voice light and soft.

“I moved over and you weren’t there,” Miguel yawned. “Couldn’t go back to sleep ‘till I found out where you went.”

You shuffle to his side of the bad, “Just went to the bathroom.”

He opened his legs and pulled you in. He laid his head on your chest, kissing the skin through the fabric as placed his hands on your ass.

“G’morning,” he said, voice scratchy.

“Morning to you too,” you said while scratching his head.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, peering up at you.

You give him a small smile, “I’m feeling better.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck. You twirl your finger is his hair absentmindedly.

He puckers his lips, waiting expectantly. You giggle and lean down pecking his lips.

GymRat!Miguel who hurries and brushes his teeth, wanting to continue this mood. You were rocking one of his shirts and some panties. He still wanted to see if the offer from last night was still up.

GymRat!Miguel who crowds your space on the bed, hovering over you as he kisses your lips. He’s feeling particularly ravenous and all he wants is you. Your grip on his shoulders becomes tighter as he slots his tongue in your mouth.

GymRat!Miguel who is definitely a virgin. Sure, he spent his free time researching how to make you feel good. He even shyly asked Peter for advice. It still doesn’t negate the fact that he has put none of these things to use.

He pauses as things start to get even more heated, sharing this news with you. You’re a little shocked but you promise him it’s fine to take it slow. You have never done penetrative sex with anyone either. Feeling more relaxed, he dives right back in.

GymRat!Miguel who has you grinding above him. Your clothed sex slides against his, two layers of cotton separating you both. You’re whining against mouth as he moves your hips. He’s humming at every noise you make.

As much as he wants to go further, he has a need to fulfill your desire first.

Plus, he was dumb enough not to bring a condom.

He opens his mouth to take a nipple in through your sweater. It’s thick, but he sucks hard enough to get the job done. He watches as you tilt your head back and moan loader, hips stuttering.

Miguel watches you in awe. He’s never seen you like this before. So needy for him. It was a contrast to how you usually let him take, take, take.

He moves quick to lay you on top of him, finally getting his dream of you over him.

“Miguel?” you ask, wary of your weight.

“Nuh uh, baby keep going. Don’t stop,” Miguel says, swerving your hip along his.

You fall down from a sharp buck of Miguel’s hips, moaning from the friction and holding your hands against the headboard.

Miguel was in heaven watching you roll your hips faster and faster.

GymRat!Miguel who flips you over as soon as you come. He is grinding better against as you lay on your back. Your tits ate bouncing under his sweater with every jerk. He wanted to take it off, but you were still a bit self-conscious.

For now, it was fine because you looked so good in his clothes, nipples hard and ready just for him to devour. In the future, he hoped to have you see how beautiful you are in his eyes.

You’re sensitive, thighs tightening around his waist. He softly moves one of them, gaining better access for his bulge to slide against your clothed clit.

“Miguel!” you cry, voice high.

“Give me another one, come on,” he says, mouth moving to your ear. “You’re doing so good. Just need one more.”

He feels you nod your head, arms wrapping around his neck.

You yell his name as you come again, thighs shaking.

GymRat!Miguel who comes through his underwear on top of you. He pulls your sweater up a tad to watch some liquid pool on your stomach.

“Fuck,” he heaves, smearing it with his thumb. You were fluttering against him softly.

You were laid out under him coming down from your high. Your breaths were slowing down and you were looking at him, blissed out.

This was better than his dream.

He rubbed up and down your bare thighs, watching as they twitched when he grazed your inner thighs. He walked his fingers down to your panties, running his knuckles over your mound. The fabric was wet, evidence of what you two just did.

He starts to pull the fabric tight, watching as your folds imprint through the cotton.

What a pretty sight. Your body so open with his cum on your smooth skin.

Mine. All mine.

He’s about to press against your clit again until you say something.

“Huh?” Miguel asks, in a daze.

“I asked if you could go get a wet towel,” you say.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, baby,” he says, frantic movements as he hobbled out of the bed. He was acting like an idiot, gawking at you instead of talking.

GymRat!Miguel who realizes that he put you both in a sticky situation as he wipes your stomach off.

“It’s fine. ‘Was hot,” you whisper, completely flushed.

“Yeah? You liked it?” Miguel asked, giddy.

You nod your head, “You made me feel really good, so yes, I did like it.”

“Is that so?” Miguel mumbles, leaning close to your face. “Might have to do more next time.”

“More? Like what?”

“Like finally getting you to sit on my face,” he says in your ear. He finally got you to put your weight on him, all he needed was that final push.

“Oh my god,” you drone, covering your face dramatically.

“What? Baby, it’ll be so fun! I promise!”

GymRat!Miguel who finally checks his phone while you both wait on room service.

Abuela 💕:

“Miguelito!”

“Call me when you can!”

“dile a mi muñeca que mi casa es su casa!” (tell my doll that my home is her home)

“And I don’t want any new grandbabies so soon so control yourself”

Pa:

“Miguel I hope you can forgive your mother”

“She needs some time”

“I’ll be sure to talk to her”

“It was also lovely to meet your girlfriend”

“I’m proud of you mijo”

Gabri 🤏🏽🤡:

“Bro”

“You missed SO MUCH!”

“BDHDHDHDJEBE”

“I wish I could have streamed it”

“Tyler SWUNG KRON’S BODY TO THE SIDE….”

“Ok no but fr”

“It’s def confirmed that you’re Tyler’s favorite 🤷🏽‍♂️”

“Kron got socked in the mouth by Tyler”

“That’s def where you get your punches from ngl”

“OMG”

“Did you know that Nancy cheated on Tyler first?”

“Crazy. Ik. You don’t have to say anything”

“Anyway”

“Tell my girl I said gn 😁 her breakfast in bed will be waiting on her”

Dana:

“Your dad’s kinda hot”

“Tyler not George”

“But you know who’s hotter?”

“Your gf”

“Give her my number. Plz and ty”

Dad….Tyler:

“Son I sincerely apologize for this terrible evening.”

“Kron will be reprimanded. No need to worry about that. You only taught him a valuable lesson in reality.”

“If I can, may I make it up to you?”

“I added a few more days to the hotel.”

“And my doors are, of course, always open to you.”

“Please reach out to me soon.”

Ma:

“Miguel please come home”

“I need to talk to you”

divider by: @plutism + @benkeibear 🩵

a/n: AHHH! If you're reading this, then this (hopefully) means that I have finished and turned in my Senior Thesis 🥺. As a gift, please tell me you how you feel. You guys have been so kind to me on here, so I hope you enjoy today's chapter. There are more great things coming soon!

taglist: @ghost-lantern @miguelhugger2099 @slushycoookie @emelie-s-h @lake-lili

@obsessed-with-miguels-ass @scaleniusrm @superiorspiderass @lexluvswriting

@flordelalunas @froggygal @vmpz8sauceee @famouscattale @nixinluv02

@jada-of-arcadia @spideykid22 @what-the-jams @julia4today @tojishugetiddies

@samjinxx @sleeklyalisha @the-pan-liquid @prongs-lover @kikaaauu

@urlocallocachica @wanderlustingcastaway @peachey-pie @ch3rry-bl1ss @girl-of-multi-fandoms

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@lauraolar14 @bruhhvv @m4dyy @farrowroyale @cl3stevu

@ohara-whore @muneca-lemon-steppa @alexa4040 @amelialysm @snails-doodles22

[starshipsofstarlord]

“thought you were mad at me.”

“it’s a hate boner, i swear.”

summary. you and daryl, despite fighting and surviving side by side for years, have always had a tendency to get on each others nerves. the one thing he hates more than your recklessness however, is seeing you hurt

warnings. boners duh, swearing, mentions of death and turning, daryl skinning an animal, feelings, daryl being a boob man, no smut, slight angst, love confessions, implied smut

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

There were many possible things that you could do to enrage Daryl Dixon; you’d been comrades for many years and it would have been suspicious if the two of you hadn’t found a way to flawlessly get on each others nerves.

Currently you were seated in your station of living, ass planted on a kitchen chair as you endured silent treatment from the archer whom was skilfully removing the outer layer of flesh and fur from a lifeless badger.

Your arms crossed upon the aged oak of the table as you silently criticised the lack of noise - the air was tense and riddled with thick annoyance, it was difficult to breathe through. To Daryl’s dismay, your fingernails danced in an attempted rhythm upon the surface of which that were layer atop of, creating a chorus of taps that were audible within the quiet room.

The sound filled his ear drums, and his attention drew away from the black and white striped creature that was in the process of having its fur stripped from its lifeless flesh upon the counter, and he irritatedly gritted his bottom row of teeth. He was becoming tired of your reckless habits, and the fact that you cared not for making one sorry mistake that would risk your life.

Despite the countless chances that he had had, he’d never told you of the feelings that he quietly harboured towards you, he kept them locked away from your knowledge, afraid that if he were to open up, he would only lose you, or that you would reject him for his deep infatuation. And that scenario was already on the verge of taking place, you’d been foolish, and luckily escaped with only scrapes and a few bruises.

But he was angry at your carelessness, it was as though you didn’t care whether you continued to live or died. His knife slipped across the badger’s skin, creating a thin red line through the mammal’s corpse as he stared down at it, hoping the morbid sight would distract him, though the sight didn’t sway him from being mildly aware of your presence.

Each fibre of his body was tense, he knew that you were hurt, somewhere on your body that he wasn’t certain of, but you hid the destination, which only brewed furthermore worry in his heart and chest. What if you were bitten? That would be something that he would never forgive himself for, that he hadn’t been there to protect you from the most gruesome process that a human could experience.

You would either turn into a cannibalistic monster that had an imperishable thirst for anything that breathed, or you would need a deadly pressure to your brain to prevent the walker transformation from completing itself in the vessel of your body.

It was an incurable disease, and you were all infected one way or another, but the bite would only enforce the burden of becoming one of them to a faster process. Daryl’s brain was haywire with emotions, his hand forced a tighter grasp around the knife, until he released it from his grip, placing it beside the spoils of his hunt.

He whipped around, glaring at you as you seemed undisturbed by the catastrophic ramblings that his brain was swirling in by its lonesome. Your brow arched in contempt, as you hid a smirk as you had seemed to make a crack in his brooding. But instead of his silence, there was a riddle of careful treading in his determined steps that slowly but intently made their route towards you.

Instead of being flabbergastered by his sudden change in exterior motives, you remained exactly where you were, fearless of the concoction of emotions that were emitting upon his face. Your hands continued their dance, precipitating farther exasperation to coil around the stealthy archer.

“Show me.” Daryl’s tone was brisk and harsh as they fell efficiently from his lips, and you ogled at them discreetly, employing the thought of them upon your own in your imagination. With a toying smile sprawled upon your lips, you cocked your head in query, stepping up onto your feet, allowing the entirety of your weight to fall upon them.

“Show you what? How to speak to a woman, because your tactics really aren’t working Dixon?” Not everything was a joke, this was a serious situation to him, yet you could not fathom that! Your words only made him enraged with your lacking will to look after yourself. It befuddled each cell in his body to think with common sense that you had managed to live this long, but he threw that building monologue away and as far as possible from flowing off his tongue.

He cared and that was all he wanted to show you, but it was impossible when you were so… impossible yourself! “The wound y/n. I swear ta god you better not be hidin’ a bite.” The hissing undertone of Daryl’s voice shocked you, whilst during past events he had made comments of his distaste for your methods of ‘getting things done’, he had never called you out so directly.

A pang in your chest told you how much you resented him using that tone to address you, but you shook it off, understanding that he presumed that you were destined sooner rather than later to meet a set fate. “Never took you for a religious man Daryl.” You gulped in your efforts to smother your blossoming timidness, hunching your shoulders as you pushed down on your confidence to make eye contact with the man. “And I’m not bitten,” you huffed, refraining from rolling your eyes, “I can prove it to you if you want.”

“Yeah, I do wan’ tha’.” He sternly replied, and all of a sudden you felt vulnerable. You rubbed your lips together anxiously, before reaching down and bringing your hands to the end of your shirt, beginning to peel it over your head, throwing the material that now hid little from sight on the table. In the moment you felt no regret for opting to wear a bra, but you still felt the need to surround your arms around your chest, which only drew more attention to your breasts.

You craned your neck, gouging his reaction as you turned to angle your ribs to his eye-line, the prominent flush of pink and purple bruising painting your side in a tie dye artwork effect. His lips parted, as his baby blues turned their focus from their rude excavation of your subtle cleavage to your side, his pupils wildly darting around the area with both relief and disdain.

“Ah, shit.” He rubbed his face with his large palm, as he realised that another part of his body continued to be distracted by his the other parts of your body that were teasing him with their supple beauty. “We should see if there’s any ice in the infirmary.” He stated, awkwardly feeling encased in the roomy kitchen. “I’m sorry, didn’ mean to make ya feel like ya had to show me.”

He felt stupid. So fucking stupid. Whilst he was never brought up in that way, he always tried to be respectful towards women, and he respected you more than most general people. If he were to voice his certain love of you now, or any when after this situation, he would look like an utter idiot.

“It’s okay.” Your voice sounded smaller now, and hated that he was the one that had burst your bubble of troublesome words. “I understand, enough of us are no longer here. You needed to make sure, and I appreciate that Dar.” You bowed your head, and luckily you were looking at your own feet, Daryl thought, as he felt compressed in his pants.

“I’ll go get ya some ice, and some pain killers.” Daryl was prepared to rush off, but as he was about to brush past you to do the errands to treat you that he had just listed, your arm swung, as your hand caught ahold of his wrist, dragging him into your personal space. On any other heart warming situation he wouldn’t have minded, you’d hugged before during hard times, but not when he had a… problem.

Instantly your y/e/c eyes shot in the direction of his face that was blooming into the shade of a beetroot. You had realised, you couldn’t not have. “Thought you were mad at me.” You teased, and Daryl felt the remainder of his body grow stiff as he released you. He would never live this down, you would never let him forget this.

“It’s a hate boner, I swear.” He attempted to save himself from your prodding smugness, however he knew all too well that was a losing battle. Your face returned to its coy assertion, aiming your mischievous smirk towards him - his erect cock was your fault, that was obvious. And you had been on a road too long without even hinting that you felt something more than seeing him as found family.

To once have thought you deserved happiness would have sounded like a sickening joke, and you would have maniacally laughed at the delirious prospect, but your hue of vibrant damage from the impact that had clashed with your side, and Daryl’s morbid assumption had reminded you that life was truly too short to waste any scrap of time.

“If you forget about the ice,” you deflected from the ache that pinched your bloodstream, “then maybe you can forget about that badger on the side too and prove that you’re not breaking a swear. What goods a ‘hate boner’ if you don’t get to prove how much you allegedly hate me?”

“Could never hate ya.” Daryl leant down and placed a peck upon your forehead, as his hand ghosted against your cheek, brushing your bottom lip with his rough padded thumb. “Now settle down, ya need some pain killers woman, I ain’t playing games no more. I ain’t lettin’ ya pretend you’re fine, can see you’re not.” He glanced down at the large bruise once again and physically winced; he knew you were in pain, anybody would be with such an infliction of harsh force.

“Then how about we stop this game for once and for all?” You weren’t sure if your words were for him or you, but nevertheless you drew your faces closer, allowing the tips of your noses to brush. “I’ve loved you since- I can’t even remember when I realised it, it just happened. And from then on, it’s something I can’t shake, and I don’t want to.” You confessed open heartedly, putting the secrecy that you had hidden for so long on the table.

Daryl felt his heart jump out of his chest, sure you’d make some infectiously teasing remarks at his expense, but he never thought that a woman like you would have the desire to be with a redneck tracker who had been born into a life that already had its share of issues. “I-“ Daryl took a deep breath that filled his wide chest, as he realised that this was the moment that he felt as though he had waited eons for. “I love ya, have done since the first time I saw ya. Couldn’ get ya outta my mind, jus’ wasn’t sure that someone like you could ever love someone like me…”

“Trust me Daryl, you can be more sure about it than your hate boner.” A laugh tumbled from your lips, and whilst Daryl adored the sound more than the tapping that your fingers had done on the table, he decided to shut you up. With his hand on finding purchase finally on your cheek, he pulled you in, meeting your lips as your mouths melted together, his opposing hand hovering over your extreme bruising as though he could protect it from the air itself.

The kiss was filled with each memory he held of you, each flashed like a tribute in his mind behind his closed eyes, as he finally felt shockwaves of passion flow between you. It was the best thing that he had experienced since the outbreak had began, and each moment of turmoil and agitation was worth it. He was finally home, with you, the person who accepted him wholeheartedly.

[krashlite]

Anyways my hot take abt the cheater’s arc is that all four of them were in the wrong but it was mostly Grian’s fault things went so horrendously since man was the reason why the actual Cheating part of the cheater’s arc happened (characters, obviously)

But yeah here’s how they were all wrong yes

Grian was being incredibly controlling because he didn’t trust Scar to keep them safe. Man was scared of his own damn shadow for a lot of this, but his way of ensuring his own safety was basically to tell Scar to stand in one place and not move. He pretty much disregarded the fact that Scar is a grown man capable of making his own decisions And capable of keeping himself, and the both of them, alive. The fact that they were last on green doesn’t reassure him, only confirms that he is in the right for being so controlling. He thinks his behavior kept them alive. He only loosens up once they hit their red life since at that point danger is assumed. Grian DOES NOT learn to respect Scar here, just puts his paranoia on hold for another day. His conclusion is that he was right and Scar was unreasonable

Scar was pushing back against said control since he knew it was unfounded. Again, he’s a grown man capable of making his own decisions. He has a tendency to mock people to show when they’re being ridiculous, something he does here through being purposefully careless. It’s both to point out how ridiculous Grian’s being and a way to punish him for being so obsessive. Instead of having the intended effect, Scar just pushes Grian further away. He later winds up just following everything Grian says, which doesn’t address the root of the problem here. Except he has no way of knowing what’s wrong because Grian doesn’t tell him. From his perspective, the only thing that got Grian back at his side was murder- since the only times they actually stood on equal footing was when there was a plan for a kill or when that plan went well. Scar’s conclusion here isn’t that he was unsafe, but that he was boring. So it reaffirms that he’s in the right and Grian was being unreasonable

BigB is not and never was the mistress in this situation. Had Grian never approached him, he would’ve never left Ren. He was using his Secret Soulmate as an escape from normal relationship problems he was too scared to address. BigB mainly felt overlooked because he has a quieter personality than Ren, meaning Ren wound up making most decisions for the two of them. BigB did a lot to mirror Ren and to be Ren’s other half, but didn’t give himself space to be his own person in the relationship. This is something that’s brought up in couple’s counseling and something they at least started to address before dying. BigB never intended to hurt either of them, since he did love and value both Ren and Grian- something that’s affirmed by how he talks to them after dying. BigB and Ren talk about how they stayed together until the end and B takes the time to forgive Grian for murdering both him and his soulmate

Ren was doing his best to keep Box afloat but failed to meet BigB’s needs. Since B wouldn’t communicate what was wrong, Ren kept trying to course correct in ways that inadvertently made the situation worse. Ren’s instinct is to be protective- to find an enemy to defend against. That enemy was first Pearl and then Clockduo when Bdubs inadvertently got BigB killed. He also reacted to news of B cheating by distancing himself from BigB. Which, reasonable!! Ren wasn’t obligated to save them if B was the one who left. However, this action only pushed BigB away since Ren was so quick to assume they were over. Ren has a habit of isolating himself when something’s wrong, assuming the worst of a situation when things can be fixed. It worked out between him and BigB in the end but goddamn was that rough

Anyways the four of them are very!! Very messy, I love them dearly

[yuikomorii]

Ayayui date♡

// I'm not sure why, but I suddenly got a burst of creativity. There's no special occasion for this post; it was really just an excuse to edit Yui in my favorite Princess Collection outfit. I like how the merch line was released right on Ayato’s birthday, so I really wanted to see an Ayayui date in those outfits! 😌💕

I was in the mood to write a special scenario again. You just have to click on ‘Keep reading’ to find it. This one is set after the LE events, particularly after the After Story, so I hope you enjoy it! ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

Ayato: Haa… finally!

After all this time, I’ve managed to sort out every single problem in the Demon World.

Geez, I’m gladly taking a break!

( Ever since I became king, I’ve been buried in an endless pile of documents—so many that I’ve grown sick just being in that place. Things seem to be getting better in the Demon World, though I’d lie to say it’s perfectly stable. )

( Well, whatever. I shouldn’t bother too much about that… for now. )

( Right now, all I can think about is her. Ugh, these stupid king duties have kept us apart for way too long. I’m sure she must’ve felt really lonely, huh…? )

( Damn it! That was never my intention, but I know it must be boring as hell to be stuck in the castle all day by yourself. )

( That’s why, I’m definitely going to make it up to her today and take her somewhere nice~! )

Place: Their room

Ayato: Chi-chi-na-shi, guess who’s ba—

( Hah!? She’s not here? )

Oi, Yui!

( She’s still not answering? )

Yui, where are yo—

???: Ayato-kun..!

— hugs his back —

Ayato: What the—!

Yui: Fufu, sorry for taking you off guard. I was just thrilled to see Ayato-kun again!

Ayato: Geez, next time I call you, answer me, understood? You’re still in the Demon World, anything could happen when no one’s around, y’know?

Yui: Ah… I’m sorry for being careless. I hope I didn’t make you worry…

Ayato: No need to sulk now. What matters the most is that you’re alright.

Now… about the thing you’re wearing. Where the heck did you even get it from? It’s the first time I’ve seen you in it.

Yui: Oh, actually I bought it last time we went shopping together. You see… I didn’t show it to you back then because I wanted it to be a surprise, but uuh… does it not suit me?

Ayato: Haa… normally, when a woman wants to surprise her man, she wears lingerie or something sexy, but I’ll forgive you this time. Why? Because you look hella cute in that, can’t deny.

— Yui blushes —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you! I’m really happy…!

Ayato: ( Is she seriously almost on the verge of tears for that? )

C-C’mon, don’t get all emotional over every little thing. The date hasn’t even started yet! You really want people to see you with red eyes and puffy cheeks outside?

— Yui shakes head —

Ayato: Good, now let’s go!

— He takes her hand —

Place: Kaminashi City

Ayato: Can’t believe I’m gonna say this but I somehow missed this place.

Yui: Is that so? I thought Ayato-kun didn’t like the Human World.

Ayato: I don’t mind either of them, but right now I’m sick of the Demon World. If I see one more document, I will end up throwing up on the spot.

Yui: Ayato-kun…

( That’s right, he’s been working a lot ever since he became king. I’m sure it must truly be tiring spending days in front of all those documents. )

I’m glad you put a lot of effort in your role, but take it easy, okay? I can’t do much in this situation, yet… If you ever need help, I want to be there to support you!

Ayato: Hmm… anyway. I’m not here to talk about work again. I just want us to enjoy some time together for once.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun really sounds exhausted… He’s matured so much these past few months, which isn’t bad, but I just wish he could relax a little. )

Then, let’s make the best of this day!

— tugs onto his arm and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: Haa… it’s way better outside.

( Ayato-kun is still waiting to pay for our things, but it was way too hot in that store, so he told me to get some fresh air. )

( Now that I think about it, vampires are always cold, so I doubt the heat bothers him as much as it does me, right? Even so, seeing him care about my comfort makes me really happy. )

— warm breeze hits —

Yui: Mm… so ni—

— something suddenly hits her —

Yui: Kyah! What on earth was that!?

Eh? That’s—

Familiar: Greetings. Pardon my interruption, but could it be that you are Komori Yui-sama?

Yui: ( ‘Sama’? Uuh… I feel like that’s an exaggeration. )

Yes, I am. Did anything happen…?

Familiar: Rest assured, there is no need for alarm. My purpose here is simply to entrust this to your care. Unable to find Ayato-sama, I must rely on you to deliver him this letter.

— Yui takes it —

Yui: But, what’s this letter about?

If it’s possible to tell, of course.

Familiar: In essence, a new set of documents has been prepared for Ayato-sama. Please inform him at your earliest convenience, as his return is eagerly anticipated.

Yui: Wait! Does it mean that he really has to return now—!

( Oh no! The familiar is already gone! )

( To think that Ayato-kun was finally starting to relax again… )

( All this letter will do is ruin his day, that’s for sure. )

( But at the same time, not showing it to him… that would undoubtedly get him in troubles. )

( Uuh… This situation is so complicated. What should I do…? )

Ayato: Chichinashi!!!

Yui: ….!

— suddenly hides the letter —

A-Ah, Ayato-kun, you’re back!

Ayato: Duh, and I kept calling your name but it seems you only answer to Chi-chi-na-shi~.

— He starts pinching her cheeks —

Yui: Whey dwont, staphh!

Ayato: Hehe, that’s what you get for spacing out and ignoring me.

Anyway, you weren’t approached by any creeps, were you?

Yui: N-No, not at all!

Ayato: Hmm… that doesn’t sound too honest. Are you lying?

Yui: No way! I… I’m just hungry and my stomach won’t stop growling, which is really embarrassing…

Ayato: Haa… you never change. Always getting embarrassed over everything, but no worries, I didn’t hear anything. Though, if you’re really that hungry, I guess we could get something to eat.

Yui: Y-Yeah, that sounds great!

* Timeskip *

Yui: ( After the restaurant, we went to the mall, then back to the center. Ayato-kun… we walked a lot today, but instead of getting tired, he just got more and more energetic. )

( I suppose he was really in need of this break, so maybe hiding that letter wasn’t entirely bad, no…? Still, I’ll have to give it to him today, otherwise I’ll surely put him at risk… )

Ayato: Oi Yui, look!

Yui: W-Woah! I’ve never seen such big Takoyaki before!

Ayato: Heh, right? It’s even bigger than the ones from the Demon World!

Also, Ore-sama got you this, so I better see you eat it all.

Yui: Eh-? This is such a big donut! T-There’s no way I could eat all of it!

Ayato: So you’re refusing my donut? You’re way too ungrateful for a Chichinashi. Well, in that case, I guess you don’t need it any—

Yui: No, no, the donut is good!

— starts eating it —

Come to think of it, today you’ve spoiled me quite a lot, Ayato-kun.

Ayato: And why would that be bad? I thought women liked that.

Yui: It’s not bad, but I really didn’t do anything special. You’re the one who’s been working all day and night, for this reason I believe you deserve this treatment more.

Ayato: Haa… getting all self-conscious, just like always.

Look, you know I’m not good at sentimental shit, but after everything we’ve been through, your presence is special enough for me.

I guess I just want to cherish you, that’s all.

Yui: Ayato-kun… I feel the——

A-Ah, oh no!

( The chocolate… it melted on my hand! )

I-I’m sorry, I’ll be right back!

— tries to stand up —

Ayato: Nah, nah. C’mere.

— grabs her and sits her on his lap —

Yui: Wait, don’t!

— he starts licking her hand —

Yui: A-Ayato-kun, stop it! We’re in public…!

Ayato: Mnn… Mm…

— slowly bites —

Yui: Uuh…

( At this rate, people will definitely start watching!)

— starts moving —

Ayato: Tch, you’re making this way too hard for both! Just stay still and stop acting like I’m about to kill you!

Yui: ( I know his intentions aren’t bad, but this is getting too embarrassing…! )

( I’m sorry, Ayato-kun! )

— tries to push him away but falls down —

Yui: Oww…

Ayato: ( Geez, what a klutz. )

Haa… are you hurt?

— grabs her arm and picks her up —

Yui: Ah, I’m alright, no worries.

Ayato: Oi.

What’s that?

— picks something up —

Yui: ….!

Ayato: Is that… a letter for me?

— starts reading it —

You… you had it all this time with you and didn’t say a word?!

Yui: I… I can explain!

You see, I thought—

Ayato: Shut up!

Do you even have the slightest clue about what you just did!? I seriously doubt you understand how important king duties are, do you?

Hah, of course, you don’t! Why would you?

You sit around doing absolutely nothing all day while I’m working my ass off to make sure you and everyone else can live comfortably!

I’m out here putting in the effort, grinding to create a decent life, not just for you, but for everyone, even if I didn’t ask for this shit. And you do this to me!?

I thought you matured too, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing but a selfish bitch!

Yui: Wait! Ayato-ku—

Ayato: Don’t touch me!

Yui: …!

Please, listen to me!

— grabs his clothes —

Ayato: Quiet! I’m not risking to go through that again only because of someone like you. Get lost!

— pushes her away and leaves —

Yui: …!

No… No… this can’t be the end…

How… How could I be this stupid…? Hhn… Ngh…

Kuh… Ayato-kun.. Nhn…

Place: Avenue

Ayato: (Fuck! I can’t return to the Demon World right now. )

( On top of that, why the hell am I the one feeling guilty now!? )

( She… Yes, she deserved that treatment. That’s what she gets for sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Besides, what she did could lead to something dangerous. )

( It’s not the first time she pulls such shit on me anyway, but… )

( Why can’t I stay mad at her no matter what she does to me…? )

Tch, such bullsh— Hah?

Guy 1: Aww, she’s playing hard to get~!

Guy 2: Aren’t you a bit too feisty for a crybaby?

???: S-Stop it! Leave me alone!

Ayato: …!

( That voice… Yui! )

Place: Alley

Yui: I-I told you to stop!

Guy 1: Just come with us, it’ll be fun~.

Yui: No, I don’t want to!

Guy 2: She keeps struggling, isn’t she cu——

— gets punched —

Guy 1: What the—

Guy 2: Such strength!

Yui: Eh?

Ayato: Get out of my sight, you bastards! If you don’t leave this girl alone right now, I’ll make sure your already disgusting faces get even worse!

— they start running away —

Yui: Ayato-kun… thank you!

( He came back for me… )

Ayato: ….

— grabs her hand and starts walking —

*Timeskip*

Yui: ( Ever since Ayato-kun saved me, he hasn’t spoken a word. )

( It’s obvious that he’s mad… )

( But if both of us keep quiet, this conflict will never be solved… )

Ayato & Yui simultaneously: I’m sorry.

Yui: ( Eh? Did he just— )

No… I’m the one who should apologize. I hid that letter, knowing full well the consequences it could have.

However… I only did it because I wanted Ayato-kun to have some free time for himself too.

Ayato: You…

Yui: I’m aware of how much work you have to do, and being king is definitely not easy. That’s why, I really admire your for that.

Nevertheless, it saddens me seeing Ayato-kun so stressed out and exhausted. I want Ayato-kun to be always as energetic and cheerful as he was today, but… I do realize that I’m just being selfish.

Ayato: No… You… You’re not selfish, I am.

I was the one who didn’t listen to your side of the story. It’s just... I’m afraid of failing as king. There, I said it!

I don’t want to put the people I care for in danger, nor can’t I accept being a worse king than that old fart, so all I have to do is carry out my duties. Hell yeah, they’re a pain in the ass but that’s my responsibility now, which is why I can’t back off.

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… I never thought you felt that way… )

N-no, the way you reacted was understandable. Anyone under that much stress might have done the same, and I can’t blame you for it.

Besides, I can’t say your words were wrong. I am indeed incapable of fully understanding the challenges you face, however… no matter what happens, I want you to know that you’ll always be the best king to me…!

Ayato: …!

Heh… you really never change.

— hugs her—

Yui: W-Well, I suppose I can’t change if I do nothing all day.

Ayato: Hmph, are you throwing shade at me for what I told you?

Yui: Eh? No way, it was just a coincidence! I swear!

Ayato: Pfft, proved my point. You'll forever stay the clumsy, stupid, and oddly adorable woman that you are.

Yui: Hey, that’s backhan— Mm…!

Ayato: Nn…

Yui: ( Ayato-kun… his kiss is so gentle… )

( I really missed Ayato-kun’s kisses. I’m so happy…! )

Ayato: Oi, don’t tell me you’re about to cry again.

Yui: I’m not but…

I just want to know, will the letter get Ayato-kun in troubles…?

Ayato: I might get some weird looks for not showing up on time, and maybe a lecture or two, but it shouldn’t be too bad. I was supposed to start on them today since there’s a lot, but... I think I’d rather spend my time with my girl instead.

Yui: Is that so? Thank you.

But doesn't that mean you'll have to work even harder to make up for today?

Ayato: I guess it can’t be helped. I don’t want to think of tomorrow, all I want is to focus on the present.

Yui: Fufu, I see. By the way…

Will you uhm… stay overnight too?

Ayato: Heh~? Is that supposed to be a sex invitation?

Yui: I… T-That’s—!

Ayato: Heh~, don’t even try to get out of it, it’s written all over your face.

Rest assured though, the invitation is accepted~.

— Smooch —

[luvissues]

mm thinking about simon riley and the conflict of wanting to keep reminders of you with him but also wanting to make sure nobody knows about you!!

Simon is a man who- admittedly- can’t help the small trickle of pride that fills him whenever he looks down at the band around his finger.

He loves the damn thing. Not as much as he loves seeing the matching one on your own hand, but that’s different.

He loves it, really. He does. But he just can’t bring himself to wear it when he’s out on the field.

He won’t deny that part of the problem is paranoia. That paranoia has long since crept through the cracks of his skull, lingered in his brain. He knows nobody will see it, but there’s never a guarantee.

He’s seen what soldiers will do to break someone down. Hell, he’s seen what his own team has done- how easily someone he loves could be dragged into his work. That’s the very last thing he wants.

Out of his team, it’s blatantly clear that Simon has the most anonymity. But he’s not stupid. He knows how far technology can go, how deep people will dig. He knows exactly how someone could chip and chip away at the barriers he’s put up, only to send his whole operation crumbling down.

He’s torn. At night, when he peels his gloves off for just that moment. Just long enough to feel the metal that sits there, warmed by the heat of his skin. That’s the moment when he wants more than anything to keep it on.

But he won’t allow himself to be so careless. How many times has he seen the same brassy silver and gold on a hostage’s finger? How many lovers were dragged into the dirty work of the muppets they married, all because of a simple ring?

It’s the same thing with dog tags. I’d doubt Simon would have them in the first place- it’s too much information, too easily accessible- but if he did, he’d never let you wear them. Why don’t they just put a flashing target sign over your head if he’s going to be so obvious?

He’s made too many enemies for himself. Too many men who would be eager to see his name around your neck, to use you as leverage. He would never forgive himself.

And photos? Oh, how he wishes. He wants to be like Johnny, who pulls on the ragged corners tucked into his pocket whenever he gets homesick. Like Gaz, who only has to tug off his hat to be reminded of who he’s going back to when everything’s said and done. But he’s not stupid, he’s not careless. Those are the two things he’ll never allow himself to be.

The poor man has wiped every photo of himself off of every document that he could. Why would you be any different? Don’t you know how easy it would be for someone to track you down, if only they got a glimpse of your face?

How many times has he watched Laswell pull the same information? How often does Price look over her shoulder, thinking about how he could use it to their benefit?

No ring, no tags. No photos. The Sergeants call him delusional- they’ve seen how fiercely he will fight for his own team, and they know he would do the same for you, only in tenfold.

His Captain might understand. They both have years of experience, have both born witness to the horrors people are willing to commit; the horrors that they themselves have watched unfold at their own hands.

And God forbid Simon ever gets a tattoo that gives you away. I imagine he has some already, and while he might get one in reminder of you, it would be something only he would understand. It almost makes him angry at the men who do have such tattoos, the senselessness of it all. He damn near gives Johnny a concussion from now hard he smacks him across the back of the head when the Sergeant brings it up as a drunk suggestion.

It’s not to say Simon isn’t proud of you. There’s nothing in the world he adores more, is there? He’d chose the title of your husband over the title of Lieutenant any day… as long as it’s off the field.

Think of it as him protecting you. That’s what it boils down to, at the end of it all. His need to keep you safe, to keep you far away from his work, even if he is a little paranoid. Everything he does, it’s done for you. <3

“Yer’ Sergeant is a dumb bastard, Price.”

“You didn’t have to hit him so hard, ya’ muppet, the man can hardly walk straight.”

“Just tryna’ set him right. If he gets that tattoo, I’m gonna cut it off of ‘im myself.”

“Fine, but I’m sure as hell not writing the report on it.”

“The missus will thank me for it. You know she will.”

[rainystarters]

๋࣭ ⭑𓆩✧𓆪🗡ྀ࿔ 〖 and other stories . . . 〗 a collection of dialogue + action prompts inspired by angela carter's the bloody chamber and other stories. some prompts usfw. add +reversed for the muse receiving the meme to perform the action instead. adjust details as necessary.

dialogue :

are you sure you want to marry him?

oh! how you must want me!

soon.

i had never been vain until i met you.

anticipation is the greater part of pleasure.

all the better to see you.

what is that key? the key to your heart?

every man must have one secret, even if only one, from his wife.

all is yours, everywhere is open to you.

but now... what shall i do now?

my darling, i cannot wait for the moment when you make me yours completely.

there is a striking resemblance between the act of love and the ministrations of a torturer.

you are in some great distress.

any bride brought to a castle should come ready dressed in mourning.

oh god. i can smell the blood.

i thought all these were old wives' tales, chattering of fools, spooks to scare bad children into good behavior!

can't it wait until morning, my darling?

who can say what i deserve or no?

i've done nothing; but that may be sufficient reason for condemning me.

i have a place prepared for your exquisite corpse upon my display of flesh.

good fellow? i am no good fellow.

forgive me for robbing your garden!

all she wanted, in the whole world, was one white, perfect rose.

and what else was there to be done?

they are the death of any tender herbivore.

so late! you will want sleep.

you will come back to me? it will be lonely here, without you.

i will come back. soon, before the winter is over.

i am sick and i must die.

if you'll have me, i'll never leave you.

i think i might be able to manage a little breakfast today.

i have lost my pearl, my pearl beyond price.

if you are so careless of your treasure, you should expect them to be taken from you.

for all my pride, my heart is heavy.

if you wish to give me money, then i should be pleased to receive it.

i shall twist a noose out of my bed linen and hang myself with it.

you are a woman of honor.

nothing human lives here.

we have dispensed with servants.

take off my clothes for you, like a ballet girl? is that all you want of me?

all cats are cynics.

you read my thoughts, my love.

the woods enclose. the wood swallows you up.

all will fall still, all lapse.

it is easy to lose yourself in these woods.

i thought that nobody was in the wood but me.

there are some eyes can eat you.

sometimes the birds, at random, all singing, strike a chord.

eat me, drink me.

dive in and fetch it for me.

now you are at the place of annihilation.

and she is herself a cave full of echoes, she is a system of repetitions, she is a closed circuit.

can a bird sing only the song it knows or can it learn a new song?

beauty is a symptom of disorder, of soullessness.

a single kiss woke up the sleeping beauty in the wood.

be he alive or be he dead.

coffee. you must have coffee.

welcome. welcome to my chateau.

i rarely receive visitors and that's a misfortune since nothing animates me half as much as the presence of a stranger.

this place is so lonely.

now the village is deserted.

often i am so silent that i think i, too, will soon forget how to do so and nobody will ever talk any more.

i must apologize for the lack of light.

you have such a fine throat, like a column of marble.

i am condemned to solitude and dark.

i do not mean to hurt you.

i will be very gentle.

and could love free me from the shadows?

i've been waiting for you in my wedding dress, why have you delayed for so long.

you will feel no pain, my darling.

so delicate and damned, poor thing. quite damned.

the end of exile is the end of being.

it is a northern country; they have cold weather, they have cold hearts.

the devil is as real as you or i.

do not leave the path.

you are always in danger in the forest.

they are as unkind as plague.

fear and flee the wolf; for, worst of all, the wolf may be more than he seems.

besides, aren't you afraid of the wolves?

actions :

clasp. from behind, the sender places their hands over the receiver's eyes.

opera. through opera glasses, the sender watches the receiver.

choker. the sender fastens a gemstone necklace around the receiver's neck.

carriage. the sender locks the receiver in with them in their train compartment.

spine. the sender presses a kiss to the back of the receiver's bare neck.

cigar. the sender leans in and blows smoke in the receiver's face.

ermine. the sender wraps the furs around the receiver tighter as the snow falls.

keys. the sender silently enters the room and listens to the receiver play piano.

harem. the sender undresses the receiver before a collection of mirrors.

lazy. the sender brings the receiver breakfast in bed.

call. the sender calls the receiver and bursts into tears upon hearing their voice.

note. the sender discovers a love letter sent to the receiver from a previous lover.

death. the sender finds the receiver with the body of their latest victim.

hospitality. the sender watches from the shadows as the receiver take refuge from a storm in the sender's seemingly abandoned home.

servant. invisible, the sender feeds/washes/cares for the receiver.

hearth. the sender and the receiver talk past midnight by the fire's light.

hands. the sender falls to their knees before the receiver and kisses their hands.

bouquet. the sender has a hundred white roses sent to the receiver.

reunion. the sender lays eyes upon the receiver for the first time in an age.

bad luck. the sender hangs their head having lost a bet to the receiver.

voice. the sender sends their valet to speak their desires to the receiver.

powder. the sender dresses/makes up the receiver before an important night.

stallion. the sender grabs the reins of the receiver's horse and leads them away.

weep. the sender cries at the sight of the receiver in such a state.

dry. the sender brushes a tear from the receiver's cheek.

flush. the sender pinches the receiver's skin, watching it redden with blood.

prey. the sender guides the receiver's hands as together they skin a rabbit.

song. the sender sings and the receiver is spellbound, their feet following their song's command.

caught. the sender locks the receiver into a cage.

green. by the sender's command, the growth begins to take over the receiver.

tarot. the sender tells the receiver they are doomed to a sad fate.

stain. the sender touches the bloodstain on the receiver's white negligée.

wild. the sender rides hard through the night, chasing the receiver.

thirst. the sender sinks their teeth into the neck of the receiver.

china. the sender pours tea for the receiver and offers them biscuits.

blemish. the sender explores the receiver's skin and finds the mark of a witch.

wolf. the wolf reveals themself to be the sender before the receiver.

muzzle. the sender kisses the monstrous mouth of the receiver.

[venmondiese]

THE KINSLAYER

based on nightwish's kinslayer aka aemond's theme ✧ gifs: /feodor-dostoevsky // jeonwonwoo

AEMOND COULD HEAR THE LOUD NOISES FROM THE BROTHEL. He could smell the filthiness from it. He could feel it deep in his bones. He could sense it in the depts of his soul.

Aegon was much more careless than he was. As if he knew that he was doomed, destined to the seven hells, he left himself enjoy the pleasures of terrenal life, hedonistic natures for a doomed man.

Aemond wanted to be correct. When he was a kid, he dreamed of great things. Second sons often got nothing. And he wanted to be someone.

His own grandsire, Baelon, could have been someone. He was to be King, if the stranger didn't take him to soon. He would have been King. A second son.

Jaehaerys was a second son. Maegor was a second son. Even Aegon the First was second to his sister Visenya. Yet it was destined for him to be the ruler.

He thought of himself as worthy. He really did. Aemond Targaryen, rider of Vhagar. It was not something to be taken lightly. Vhagar, ridden by Visenya, Baelon, Laena. All of them were second best too.

It wasn't killing Lucerys what bugged him. He could not care less for the bastard boy. It wasn't making Rhaenyra suffer, though it wasn't how he planned it. She wanted him tortured, she wanted him to be sharply questioned when he just lost an eye. She ran away, with her impecable kin, secured on Dragonstone.

He made a mistake. He felt the power of what the Velaryons boys did when they bullied him. He was worthy. He was a Targaryen. And Vhagar was backing him up.

But sometimes, he didn't think losing an eye was worthy. Hidding it to not scare ladies at court. Cut the eyelids open so he could incrist a sapphire, like Symeon Star-Eyes. He learned how to chop men with a long staff with blades at both ends, just like the legendary hero did.

He wondered if he just wanted to feel something. If he just wanted to feel as someone special, worthy again. If he did, maybe they would admire him, or even care for him. Did they not?

Aegon had his own mess. Helaena had her own mess. Daeron wasn't even near King's Landing. His mother was busy ruling as his father was busier rotting.

"It's okay, my prince." The female voice says, in an attempt of soothing him as her hand caressed his forearm, and he sighed, his head on her lap as he looked into the room.

Brothels, even dirtiest, could have bedroom for the highlors attending. Aemond's naked chest was warm due to the fire, but not thanks to the physical intimacy.

It was a vain attempt of comfort. Aegon had invited him, to cheer him up and to celebrate his new title as King.

'Celebrate what?' He thought. 'I just started a war'

It haunts his dreams. The knowledge of what he did. The burden, the burning.

Kinslayer.

He found himself doomed. Haunted by a hateful nature inside him. It stirred, it boiled deep on his soul. Kinslayer.

A war between kin. The first drops of blood om his hands, tainting his very soul.

It felt good, at the beginning. He tried to rationalize it. A mistake. Vhagar lost control.

Because she did.

Right?

She had to. Because he didn't. It was... teasing. The power of being on Vhagar was just his arrongace, his vanity acting. Not him. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him.

He couldn't even look at his mother on the eyes. He could less look Helaena, hearing her horrified little scream as she found out.

His eye hurt. The emptiness of it, the wound that never fully healed. He couldn't even cry properly, not even for makind or his own doom.

'You lost one eye. How could you be so blind?' His grandsire said.

A need to understand. But there wasn't a need to forgive. He won't do that, for he has no reason. His mother called the war a curse from Gods themselves. She prayed, and prayed. But there wasn't any sense or truth to be followed. He even started to doubt if this was about ruling the realm.

"Do I have to pay you?" He asks, slightly unsure. Vulnerable, even. He hated it.

He was not used to this. Using a whore for comfort. Aegon laughed when he excused himself, asking for a whore, and he even congratulated him, a loud cheer all over the table.

Now he laid naked, curled up as his head rested on her lap. Warmth. Cosiness.

"No, my prince. The King has it covered"

The King. It was Aegon. The same Aegon who bullied him, and used to mock him. His big brother. Now, he was the King. It was his biggest fear, and another curse.

Was this a curse for his own ambitions? For wanting what wad the destiny of his elders? For preparing to rule even if he wasn't even acknowledged in his father's mind?

He sighed. His hair loose, the eyepatch lost somewhere on the room. He felt the touch over his cheebone, going up to move his hair to his back, her hands caressing his hair and head, in a soothing manner as she didn't speak more. He prefered silence after his vulnerable moment.

Being with a whore felt like meeting an old friend. It scared him, it bugged him in the wrong way. But who else can he turn to? The Gods have abandoned him to his luck, and with good reason.

He would prefer having a wife do it. He wondered that if he had one, she would be gentler than this, cozier than this.

He craved the love. He never tried to actively persuing a lady at court, so he had no wife. He couldn't go back to Floris Baratheon, he knew he cannot. Not as a Kinslayer.

He liked to picture his wife as beautiful lady. He does not imagine especifics, he is not demanding on that sense. He imagines her beautiful as the maiden herself, gentle and caring. Not judging him, even if his new curse made him a monster. If he had offsprings, would they love him? Afraid of his lost eye?

He realised that he has to thank the Gods. For not having a wife, or offsprings to pass the curse on. To share the madness with them.

Praying was in vain, for who would hear him? A slayer of his own kin. The blood of his sister was on his hands. Of her little son, that he murdered.

He had prayed to the Father. For him to save a place for Aemond. There are no gods. Not by your side.

He soon realised, he was as well doomed. Second son, kinslayer, murdered of his own nephew, on the skies mounting their dragons. Just as Maegor The Cruel did.

He won't become an acknowledged second son. He won't be worthy, he won't be remember greatly. He won't be a hero, unless he dies greatly. And he knows it. He lusts for this game, and he falls for every lie of it.

He looked at the flames, as if they could answer something to him. As if they could show him what was ahead of him. How he has to act. How he'll die.

A war was yet to come, and he knows he'll fight it. For he has nothing else to lose. He curses the Gods. How was he supposed to know?

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Northern attitude

Previous chapter

a/n I welcome you to the second part for more Sugar and Ghost. Did I have a right to form attachment to these two in two chapters? No. But here I am. Enjoy.

summary: mission gone bad, feels a little like enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort sort of goodness.

warnings: blood, wounds, needles, death, hospitals, IV's, vomiting, trauma... I think that's all...

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"Keep the chest compressions going", the female voice filled the space that now seemed as buzzing as the actual hospital room. Not that any of them truly had been in the midst of it all. But army hospitals, especially while on the move, could and did get chaotic at times. "You'll need another shot of adrenaline", a calm and collected tone instructed. Gaz looked into Soap's eyes, who has been ramming at your heart for some time now. The two males nodded at one another. "Coming in 3 2 1", Gaz called out as they switched for only a heartbeat or two. Soap's hand left your chest, while Gaz aimed the needle right toward your left shoulder.

Simon felt as if he was in a daze. In one of his nightmares, maybe. Yeah, maybe that's what it was. One of his nightmares where he was aware that he was in his mind traps. Yet he didn't recall what had happened after he started shaking your body. Who pulled you out of his arms? Who pushed him to the side?

"Go back to stimulating the heart, Johnny. Hum, while you're at it", Ghost knew that voice now that his brain had granted him a moment of clarity. Eleanor Price's wife was a medic and a woman not ready to give up on her adoptive daughter. Desperate and ready to do anything. Make the four basic medical knowledge-baring males do everything they can so her baby girl will come back home. Come home, but not in a casket. Simon had no clue who even dialed her number. The phone was used for emergencies only. They were strictly advised not to use it until it was a life-or-death situation. The call had to be directed straight to the base. Eleanor wasn't at the base. But somehow, that made Simon calmer. He was happier that it was her and not some careless idiot in charge.

"You need to start the drip", another desperate order filled the space. "I can't, El,", Price said, running a hand through his face in frustration. "John, for fuck sake, you've done it before. Put it in her hand, the palm; don't go full vein, but do it damit", that was the first time Simon caught onto her voice, quivering. For a split second, her cool doctor mask had slipped, making Price clench his jaw so tight that his voice was barely a groan. "Eleanor", he breathed. "Keep humming, Soap," she barked at the man now responsible for pumping your heart, ignoring her husband. And Soap did. His humming grew louder. I got a pocket—a pocket full of sunshine echoing from the walls, accompanied by his thick Scottish accent—now that he too was under lots of stress.

Gaz ran back into the main room with the pouch full of liquid. "Got it", he said breathlessly. "Good, you see that there are two different colored liquids?", Gaz nodded too overstimulated to realize that Eleanor could not see him. "There is", Price said for him. "Good, bend it. It needs to mix, then start the drip, or so help me, God, I will never forgive you, John".

Maybe not a nightmare. Maybe a bad movie. One Ghost hoped he would forget eventually. He just sat there. While everything buzzed around him. For the very first time, he felt helpless. That was a lie. He had only felt helpless that night. The night when all of the people he loved got slaughtered. The night he was forced to lock the last bits of his humanity away. To promise himself that no one would ever get close to him. He would not make friends. He would never fall in love. But here he was. Your blood was still all over him. Simon's hands were tinted. Permanently tinted. It felt almost like an out-of-body experience. He knew this was happening, but a part of him kept on screaming that this was not real and couldn't be. That fate wouldn't be so cruel. Yes, Ghost wasn't a good man, but selfishly, he was sure that after all that he had been through, his debts had to be paid off by now.

Ghost didn't know why, but his brain took him back to the base. The room you two shared. Did he hate it at first? Yes. But you brought peace. You brought life. His room was bland and colorless. Now, with your posters and books, plants, and fucking throw blankets, it felt like living there was intensional. Like you, and only you had to return there. And that was important to Simon. He cared about it. Cared about you even if his snarling demeanor wouldn't let it show.

There were nights when he would find you passed out with your book in your hands. The hardcover digging into your neck. It was not enough to hurt, but it sure had to be uncomfortable. Simon had stood there for a solid ten minutes, the first time it had happened, just watching your slumbering frame. He turned around and went about his nightly routine. He had gone and laid down in his bed. But only a handful of moments later, he was out, crossing the white line. He had gently pulled the book from your skin, using your pen to mark the page you were on. Pulling the blanket over your shoulders because the base got rather cold at night. He told himself that he couldn't allow a soldier on his team to get sick because manpower was crucial, but deep down, he knew that any other lad could be freezing his balls off for all he cared. It was you. You were the main factor in this equation. There was something even back then that didn't sit well with him when it came to you not being well.

"It's bleeding, Eleanor", John's desperate voice filled Ghost's mind, and it was like his systems had been restarted. His eyes darted toward the table. Onto John's slumped shoulders as he fidgeted with the needle. Simon jumped up. He rounded the table to push John's hand off as he reached for the tape, repositioning the very tip of the needle before securing it in place. "You need to keep it stable", Eleanor's voice rang out. "Simon just did it", John breathed out. The room stilled for a moment. They were running out of things they could do to keep you alive. To keep you with them. Ghost held onto your hand. He hoped that everyone would take it as just him making sure that your skin wasn't puffing up, indicating that the incision was done incorrectly. And none of the men, sweaty and mentally exhausted, would have said anything. But Eleanor did.

"Simon, you're okay, sweetheart?", It was so soft. Too soft. She should be yelling. Simon was responsible for what had happened here. Maybe even more, because he should have ripped all the doors that separated him from you. Should not have followed everyone into the safe house. "She will fight; you know it; you stay strong for her. She needs you", Ghost bit onto his cheeks, feeling the taste of iron filling his mouth. He had met Eleanor a couple of times. The woman was an angel. How John had landed her was beyond him, but she was exactly what you had been for the team. A breath of fresh air. Some days when everyone was off duty, she would ring up everyone, inviting them for a barbecue at her and Price's shared home. "Positive", Ghost breathed out, yanking the wall of steel back up. He couldn't let himself feel it. Not here. Not now.

"Her chest", Soap's two words were enough to shift the focus back to the table. His big eyes looked between the rest of his team and the women on the living room table. "Soap", Eleanor's voice carried both worry and hope. "It's moving, she's...", Johnny's voice died down, only to be overshadowed by Eleanor's once more, "Count her pulse for me; tell me if it's steady enough". No one breathed for a moment, as if afraid to chase it away. As if they inhaled too much oxygen themselves, there would not be enough for you. A minute passed. Two. Three.

"Yeah", Johnny breathed, "It's steady. Weak but... but...", a sob slipped past his lips, followed by a cry from Eleanor. Gaz sank to his knees, his chest heavy, as he tried to catch his breath. John moved past them all, rushing towards the side door. But the distance between him and the room wasn't big enough for the rest of them to not hear him heaving. "Fucking hell, Bonnie, you just took ten years of my life", Soap carefully ran his hand over your leg, his head falling back as the quiet tears continued to flow. "Keep a watch on her for me, boys", Eleanor sniffled from the other side. Simon leaned over. His face pressed into your side as he tried to keep his tears at bay. Not even for a moment letting go of your hand.

That was three weeks ago. They had managed to keep you alive for two days in that house. Two days. Finally, transportation from the base was provided to get all of them out of there. The doctors had told them straight to the face that what they had been doing was God's work. They were the reason you were still breathing. But even under the unfaltering gaze of the base doctors, Ghost still couldn't shake the feeling of you slipping away.

Simon was down in the medical wing every day. Some days, he stood for hours in the corner of the room. Some days, he pulled himself a chair and sat by your side. It was the nights that were the hardest, though. Because now all Ghost saw was you. All he felt was a lack of your presence. If he did manage to slip into a restless sleep, he would be up in no time. Sweaty and panting. He would reach for his hoodie as he moved through the quiet hallways to get to you.

"Debrief starts at five", Soap's head popped into the hospital room. Making Ghost stutter on the last words that he was reading as he slowly lowered one of your books to his lap. Most of his mornings looked the same. Quick shower. Breakfast if he was up for it. Your hospital room. Training. Back to your hospital room. Days when he had to be in meetings or debriefs were the ones he hated the most. That meant he had to be away from you for longer than he was willing. "Copy", he said sternly, eager to at least finish the page he was on. And even more so, hoping that Soap would go away. Simon had nothing against the guy. Out of everyone, he liked Johnny the most. The two had a similar sense of humor, and working together never felt like a never-ending nightmare. Just the Scot talked a lot. At times, it was fun, and Simon's ever-running brain benefited from it. But there were times, like now, when he wished that the man would get the message and go his own way. "Ain't my place to say this, but...", the door cracked open a bit more, "I'm sure that she loves that you're here", Simon was so glad that his back was turned to Soap because he was sure that he would be able to see his face falter. Fingers grinning at the book just a bit tighter. "Copy, Soap, you can go", Ghost's tone was more than unamused. He didn't want to break in front of any of them. The safe house had already been a dead giveaway of how Simon felt when it came to you. And he didn't want anyone to know anything else. "And she...", Soap started once more, but Ghost just lifted his hand up, making all sounds die down. "Copy", Simon said thickly through his teeth. He knew that it was selfish to push everyone away like that. You two were also friends. Close ones at that. Simon knew that Soap loved you. He had a front-row ticket to watch that after the mission went south. But he just couldn't. Couldn't do it now. When the door quietly kicked shut, Simon let out a sigh, his eyes darting towards the clock on the wall. He had to go, even if he didn't want to.

"I'll be back", he muttered softly, placing the book on the little table by your bed. "Will finish reading that book for you later", Ghost reached his hand out, softly running his fingers over your forehead, lingering touches stretching out for longer than they should. "You sleep well, Sugar", he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on the side of your head and stilling right beside you as he let himself listen to the sound of your breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. And he was pulling away, running a hand through his face before he walked out of the room.

Ghost barely said a word in the debrief. When Kate asked for his input, the man shrugged his shoulders and said, "You read my report; you know my thoughts". Was the upper management getting fed up with him at this point? Most definitely. Yet no one managed to put the lack of everyone's involvement against them. Most of the base had been rather quiet when they wheeled you through the corridors, almost lifeless. And yes, the key thing was not to get emotionally attached. Teammates came and went, but everyone knew just as well how tight everyone in this group was. Or came to realize that with the four men following the doctors in one quick stride.

"Ghost", Price's voice yanked Simon back to the meeting room. An almost empty meeting room at that. "A word alone in my office", the captain said, only waiting for a head nod before walking away. Simon followed suit. He knew there was no other option. "Eleanor said you didn't call her back", John mused, reaching for the lighter as he puffed out smoke. Ghost's face stayed blank as he muttered, "I didn't see the call". That was a lie. He did. And there was more than one. Simon just couldn't pick up. The same way he couldn't watch the way Price's wife had sobbed in her husband's chest when they had just returned. The guilt was too much. The sight of her sobbing only made Simon think that it was over. An hour. Maybe two. And your body will be in the bag. Stored away in the cold room.

"Simon", John snapped his hand in front of Ghost's eyes, making the male blink a couple of times. "Is that all, sir?", his voice was grim. Even Simon was struggling to recognize himself. John frowned, "Don't you sir me, boy", a warning finger was jabbed into Simon's chest. A moment of silence. A deep exhale. "Her vitals are getting better. She will pull through", Price said softly, clapping Ghost's shoulders, but the man simply shook his head and said, "You don't know that". And it's like that's all Price needed to realize where the stem of all of this denial was rooted. "I called the shots there. It's on me, not you", the captain said firmly, that same warning finger now pointing directly at his chest. Neither of them said anything else afterward. They just stood there. Eyes burning into each other.

Price's eyes narrowed for a moment before he muttered, "Do you like her? My, Sug, do you like her?", the question threw Simon off the hilt. He didn't expect it here. Now. It wasn't supposed to be discussed here. Like that. And my Sug... Fucking hell. It was his captain's daughter Simon was falling for. Biological or not, she was still a daughter. And for the first time, did he realize how much shit this could bring you both? Maybe it was one-sided even. But the way you held onto him. Your touch. Simon had never been touched so tenderly in his life. And what's more, for the very first time, he didn't want to pull away. "Because if you play...", Price's tone shifted completely as he spoke his words, and Ghost cut him off quickly, "Positive. I do... I like her". John simply nodded at his words, making Simom mimic his movements. The older male scratched his chin before waving Simon away, and he didn't waste a minute before turning away. He'll deal with the potential consequences later on.

Simon was almost out the door when a voice stopped him. "Simon", Price called out once more, making the soldier turn back, "I expect you to mow my lawn in the summer". A strange, warm sensation filled Simon's chest as he looked at the man in front of him, smiling as he puffed out another cloud of smoke. Ghost lets himself linger for a heartbeat more before he closes the door, heading towards the medical wing once more.

"I also overwatered your succulent", Simon said quietly as he looked out of the window in your room. The rest of the team had slowly turned the little, awfully sterol-looking room into a somewhat comfortable place. Or at least a place that screamed less about the inevitable outcome they all feared the most. A plush blanket. Some of your books. A night lamp in the shape of a duck. That was a gift from Soap. Was it slightly questionable? Yes. But everyone dealt with this in their own way, so if bringing you a light-up duck made Soap happy in some way, so will it be.

"I bought you a new one, but... still felt like you should know", Simon continued. He was doing this a lot. Way too much. Maybe? Ghost wasn't sure what was normal or not at this stage. Yet he couldn't help but feel that you would be sitting there with an eyebrow lifted at the number of words he was sharing. One thing everyone knew was that Ghost didn't speak unless it was necessary. Some called it arrogance. Others said that that was just his cold demeanor. The truth was, no one truly stopped to listen or cared for Simon for most of his life. So he got used to it. But talking to you, at least now, made him feel lighter. Besides the reading he did here, Simon also went over meetings with you. A part of him didn't want you to feel left out. Not that your unconscious body cared, but... if you could hear him. He wanted you to feel involved. Then there were an endless amount of stories about how and who had pissed him off that day.

"I...", Ghost's voice dies down as he turns back to face you. You looked like a doll laid neatly on the sheets. They have moved the IV out today. Nothing more but a heart monitor left running. Eleanor had no doubt been here while he was in the debrief because your hair had been brushed. Simon let out a sigh as he pulled a chair for himself, quickly shrugging off his gloves.

"You know, you caught my attention the moment I saw you", his hand hovered above yours for a moment. He didn't trust himself to touch you. What if he harmed you in some way? What if he triggered a negative reaction? "Fucking hell, did you keep us on your toes", Ghost shook his head, "I took it for granted. I'd do anything to see you striding past the main entrance once again". Simon let his head fall over your stomach. Oddly enough, that was the only time that his head seemed to work these days. Taking a deep breath, Simon let the feeling of your body slowly ground him. You're here. With him. He can hear your heart beating. Your body is no longer cold. You even have some of your color back. He can...

A sudden rustling of the sheets makes every single muscle in Simon's body seize. For a moment, he can't even hear his own heart as he stays as still as he can. One heartbeat. Another. Nothing. Devastation rushes through him. He had gotten so sensitive to the sounds in this room. A gentle hand caresses his scalp, and Simon jerks away.

Blinking rapidly, only to find your half-hooded eyes open. Looking right back at him. "No", Simon muttered, fully convinced that his lack of sleep had finally gotten the best of him. He doesn't move away, but he digs the back of his palm into his eyes. "Simon...", and it's barely a whisper. So weak still, but it's there, and... Simon's shoulders quiver. There's no sound. Not a single hick-up, but you know.

Every single part of your body feels as if it's on fire. The room is dim, but gods, it's still too bright for your sensitive eyes. Yet you can't take your eyes away from the man drowning in his own emotions right next to you. You carefully reach out for him, muscles soar from the lack of movement. Brushing your fingers through his hair. Scratching his scalp. You have no idea how long you've been out, but you've heard him talking. Soothing the anxiety of being trapped in nothing but darkness.

"Si", You breathe out once more, trying to tug at his wrist softly. Wanting nothing more than to see his eyes once again. Simon gives in instantly, the tears soaking his mask. You try to wipe some of them away, but his fingers wrap around your frail wrist. For a second, you are convinced that he will push you away, but he does quite the opposite. With both of his palms, Simon presses your hand into his cheek. Leaning into your touch.

"You died... I held you," he says through heavy breaths, pulling at your heart, "You... the blood". You shake your head slowly. "Look at me", you say softly, coughing slightly. At the feeling of your dry throat, Simon is out of the chair, lifting the water jug to pour you a glass before carefully cradling your head as he helps you take a couple of sips. That's enough to chase some of the big emotions away. Enough to give time for Ghost to pull the iron mask back on, but his eyes still glisten.

"I'm here, aren't I?", you whispered, "That pink rug was too appealing to give up", you joke slightly, and it's enough to make Ghost let out somewhat of a chuckle. "You don't have to die to buy a rug for our room", Simon says, head turning to look at the monitor as if waiting to see something that would still prove to him that this wasn't happening. "You look like shit, LT. Losing sleep over a girl doesn't look good on you", you mutter, and Simon lets out a dry huff. "Because I'm a decent bloke, I won't comment on how you look", you let out a gasp in return, and that nearly sent him flying off his chair because the man is on such high alert that anything rings danger bells in his head now. "I'm okay, just trying to be dramatic with you", you say, squeezing his hand softly, trying to get him to calm down once more. Silence falls. Not an uncomfortable one. One that fully captures the shared amount of words running through both of your minds.

"I heard you, you know? Kind of pissed that you think that Jack deserved to get his heart broken," Simon snorts, running his fingers through his hair. His shoulders droop. All of the adrenaline that's been keeping him upright is finally wearing off. Leaving him feeling heavy and weak. "Should I get the others? Price would...", Ghost breathed, turning to get up, but you grabbed onto his hand quickly. "I just want you right now", you muttered straight away, realizing how dumb and desperate that sounded, "If you don't mind".

Simon scoffed, "Sugar, I sat here for three weeks begging for all the holy things that you would pull through", You bit your lip at his words. You knew that he did. You felt him. Heard him. Smelled him. He had been your lifeline all this time. "If I could, I would pull rank to get myself off duty so I could sit here till you fully recover", Ghost says, rolling his eyes, now doubtful at everyone who has been up his ass for not attending every single meeting. You smile at him weakly, feeling the little bits of your energy slowly giving out. Yet you still muster what's left of it to move your head up so you could run your fingers beneath Simon's eyes, where the darkest tired bags screamed about the lack of sleep he was getting.

"Get in bed," You tap the side next to you softly. You have no idea how you both will fit here, but you can't watch him practically fall asleep by your side. He had already spent way too many nights in that tiny plastic chair. "Shouldn't we at least go on a date first?", Simon jokes, making your cheeks grow crimson, and you're convinced that they are a dead giveaway of how you are feeling. "Oh, fuck you...", you huff, trying to frown, but the smile that tugged at your lips was too strong. "Lay with me, so you could sleep. So we both could sleep", you say once more, not letting go of his hand. With the size of this man, the bed will get crampy. But you didn't care. You needed to feel him close. To just know that he was with you. Fully. As if reading your mind, Simon got up, climbing into the bed from your good side. Making sure your uninjured shoulder was pressed against him.

"Is this okay?", he said after a moment of you two moving around to find a comfortable position for the two of you. "You can wrap your hands around me; you don't have to lay there like a log", you chuckled, tugging at his sleeve and urging him to cling onto you the way you were clinging to him. Ghost chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss your head. Your hand instantly moves up to cradle the side of his masked face. The feeling of the soft material soothing to your senses. "I fucking missed you", Ghost breathed after a moment of silence. Fingers running up and down your back. You slowly peeled your eyes open, fighting the tiredness just for a heartbeat longer. Meeting his soft eyes as looked down at you. "I missed you too, Simon. Been missing you since the moment I saw you", you smiled softly, turning to press a loving kiss on his chest, right over his heart, before you lay your head back, listening to the steady drumming.

[weskie]

Relief (Albert Wesker x gn!Reader)

900 words | hurt/comfort themes | Fic Directory

His first injection did not go smoothly. 

Albert Wesker is a man of many strengths, but even God is not always immune to the trials and tribulations of laboratory science. Especially not when said science is meant to enhance what makes him so special. 

Yet here you were, one of his chosen. But you knew better than to think of yourself so highly; chances are you're simply a pawn. You know cunning and deceit when you see it, and he stinks to high heaven of such dark qualities. 

Excella gives him the first dose of the supressant, a concoction designed to give him perfect control over the virus in his body.  It is measured precisely based on her own studies and calculations. However, pride kept her from allowing anyone else to analyze her work. There's no immediate response, and she smiles happily. 

And yet you know better, because you had seen her work. Compared to your own, she was way off– as you tried to tell her. She’d been careless with her decimals, a simple mistake with grave consequences. But you are lower on the totem pole. Your word doesn't matter until hers proves to be no good. 

She probably regrets ignoring you when his face twitches, teeth clenching as he grips the edge of his chair, howling the first of many exclamations of harrowing pain. 

“Albert! I–”

But his hand goes around her throat in a mere flash, silencing her, halting any attempt to touch him. 

“You– gah!” He snarls, eyes flaring a deep, fiery red around his cat-like pupils. He drops her and, in turn, falls to the floor himself. Wesker hunches over on his knees, wails of agony leaving him as he clenches his chest and head. 

The virus coursing through his body is being assaulted by an overdose of the suppressant, turning it more volatile and painful by the minute. Balance was key, and he had been thrown far from it. 

There is no counter agent, no painkiller, no balm to soothe his agony– for what could ever help a god?  Both you and Excella watch him writhe, but her fear keeps her from doing like you. 

You're not even sure why you did it. 

You sit behind him, legs splayed, and you pull him back to lean against you. His animalistic growls and pained, gasping breaths fill your ears, but all you do is hold him tight like some sort of human restraint. 

Excella stares at you as if you'd lost your mind. 

Perhaps you have. 

A gloved hand grips your forearm with a force so punishing that it makes you yelp. He could break you with one finger, but he's clearly holding back. He could tear you limb from limb even now for invading his space like this. 

But he doesn't. 

“Breathe, Mister Wesker,” you say. You have his honorific wrong– it's doctor– but surely nobody in the room cares to notice. “It will pass, but you must breathe.” 

A growl and seemingly involuntary jerk of his body disrupts your words, but you hold tight nonetheless. 

You do so for nearly an hour.  Against every tremor, against every wave of pain the likes of which you could never imagine. The only noises to be heard are his tight breaths and the hum of fluorescent laboratory lights. 

Sometime in the middle of things, Excella scurried off to fix her mistake. She begged for forgiveness, but he shot her a look that made her go as white as a ghost. 

The sleeves of your lab coat are shredded, arms bruised, and Wesker himself looks no better. It's as if all the fight had been torn out of him and he was no stronger than any mere mortal. The grip on your forearm is leagues lighter. 

He's probably going to kill you for touching him like this. For reducing him to some helpless infant in need of comfort and support. 

His breaths have steadied. 

Somehow you'd brought your free hand up to thumb at his cheekbone. Some odd, inappropriate manner of soothing his pains. 

“Mister Wesker, I–”

“Save it.” He says, cutting you off. Even his voice sounds weak. That fancy edge to it is gone almost entirely. 

He's clearly awake and aware. Why isn't he moving away? Hell, why aren't you moving away? 

“It was in your best interest to assist me.” 

He's posturing, repositioning his authority despite what had just happened.  Your thumb stops moving and that hand around your forearm grips tighter. When you resume, it slackens. 

“Bold of you to have done this,” he hums. “And all this time I thought you lacked a spine.” 

You're not sure what to say to such a statement. You're not sure what he's getting at either. A punishment? A reward? You can practically hear a smirk in his words despite the fact it was nowhere in sight. 

“I can feel you shaking.” 

Shit. 

“Hm…” Wesker releases a sigh, something you've never heard from him before. “Tell you what, pet.” 

Pet? Pet? 

“Continue your little ministrations until I am on my feet, and I will consider your crimes forgiven.”

What? He wants you to keep this up? 

“Does that sound satisfactory?” He asks. “Answer me, pet.” 

With wide eyes and shaking hands, you nod. 

“Y-Yes, Mister Wesker!”

“Good, good... Now, what punishment has Miss Gionne earned for herself, hm?” 

[hibiscuswrites]

Hello hello! May I please get a would include of Frank being secretly in love with y/n and then another guy tries to get at her and frank shuts it down immediately cuz he knows he’s the one for her? Please and thank you!

You're welcome 💕

He's had feelings for you for a while

He's simply kept it to himself for obvious reasons

He doesn't want to get you involved in his work

Doesn't want to risk you getting hurt because of him

He'd never forgive himself if something happened to you because of him

Sure, he'd protect you with his life

He already does, you just don't know

He'd keep you safe of course, but mistakes happen

And he'd never be able to live with himself

So he's kept it platonic

A good friend to you that you can always count on

He dreams about a life with you sometimes

What it'd be like to go out with you

Take you for dinner

Feed you cake

Walk around a park arm-in-arm

But he leaves it at that

Simply friendly dates for drinks is as far as it goes

But tonight there's a man who's after you

Eyeing you up and down

Eating you up with his looks

And boy does it make Frank's jaw twitch

The guy is careless

He just watched him flirting with the blonde on the other side of the bar not even 15 minutes ago

Now he's here after you

Complimenting your eyes

Saying you nice your smile is

They're all empty compliments

Generic and impersonal

But you're smiling and thanking him anyway, and that flips something in Frank

He'll be damned if some asshole with barely any care for you is going to make you blush and giggle

"Alright, funs over. Maybe go and spin that line to the pretty lady you were talking to before. Not this one."

Both you and the guy are stunned at Frank's sudden interjection, the guy's tone inquisitive and slightly defensive now

"What's wrong with saying my lines to this one?"

His thumb points over to you and you watch as the muscles in Franks jaw quiver, his eyes locked on yours

"This one's mine."

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