#OR he can do this because of an emotional bond you two have formed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursedcola · 3 months

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Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?"- Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia (Pt.1 !) (Pt.2 Here!) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. ALSO SLIGHT SPOILER FOR CHAPTER 7 IN SILVER Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. Also, I went overboard. I had to break Diasomnia into 2 parts because I exceeded tumblr's character limit. I have favorites I guess :/

This man is a child masquerading as an adult. As in to say that he resists any illogical emotions until they bottle up and explode. The traditional pathway for finding a life partner typically follows: stranger -> acquaintance -> friend -> crush -> lover ->partner. You know, as it normally goes when bonds form.

Sebek....is not a textbook case in this regard. His path is a bit more customizable

stranger -> person he is forced to interact with -> acquaintance of Lord Malleus -> Acquaintance of Lord Malleus that Sebek approves of -> Friend that Lord Malleus approves of -> Repressed Crush -> Acquaintance that Sebek avoids at all costs -> Acknowledged crush -> Acknowledged crush that Lord Malleus approves of -> Respected individual with mitigated interactions -> Courting -> awkward situationship -> lover -> awkward situationship (with better communication) -> spouse

Enough said.

This process isn’t as complicated as it may seem on paper. While there are many steps, Sebek is fortunate enough to have people in his life willing to force commitments onto him. It also helps that he has blind trust in a select few. This makes him a bit naive and easily influenced. A boon in the right hands, and a bane in others.

In short, Sebek is emotionally constipated and only acts when there’s a driving force. Otherwise he just gets frustrated. This is extremely apparent at two stages: ‘repressed crush’ and ‘awkward situationship’. Scratch that. Three stages.

Beginning at ‘repressed crush’ - Sebek realizes that he likes you when you ask about how his training is going. He happened by your dorm during his morning jog, and was more than happy to go off on a tangent of the strict regimen developed to forge a perfect knight.

Except that’s not what you wanted to hear. You were more interested in his health and how he was enjoying himself rather than how his work was benefitting Malleus.

His heart fluttered, as if a shock of electricity thrummed through his body. Having never felt this before, Sebek mistakes it for a lapse in his strength and runs off at a much faster speed than before. Forget a light jog, he had enough energy to run 500 laps around the school track.

Don’t you get it human?! You were distracting him! His body was at rest too long. Now shoo, you’re hindering him from doing his duty.

He represses these budding romantic feelings and ‘misinterprets’ them as deviant behavior. He even goes so far as to blame it on ‘useless hormones’ and convinces himself that it’ll pass. He spares it no thought until his pining becomes apparent to everyone except for himself

Que the driving force. Despite Sebek believing otherwise, he does have friends and his entire love-life can be credited to their affectionate stupidity.

Simply put, Ace takes every chance to seamlessly flirt with you whenever Sebek is around. Not in a subtle way either - he's making some risky comments and trying to eat up every moment of your time. The others in your year are well aware of what he's doing too. Deuce thinks he's being unnecessary, but also agrees that Sebek needs a push so he lets it happen. Epel has his gripes with Sebek, but admires him for his manly tenacity. So he's 100% in support of giving an extra push and even tries to copy Ace. Except... yeah, he's pretty bad at flirting so he gives up after one try. Jack is against it at first, not wanting to hurt your feelings in the process but gets talked into it after seeing you get salty over Sebek being distant. Ortho, bless his innocent soul, thinks of it as a fun experiment. Lil guy just wants everyone to be happy.

You have no idea though, which is great because all of Ace's attempts fail hardcore. Sebek and his chivalrous ways (jealousy) won't stand by if you're being constantly bombarded with 'unwanted' romantic affections.

Nevermind that you don't seem to be taking Ace seriously at all. It is still not proper behavior! It would be a stain to his Lord's image if Sebek knowingly let Malleus' beloved friend endure such a hardship.

Every time Ace makes an attempt, Sebek shuts him down faster than you ever could. You have no idea how he does it, but Sebek is always around when it happens. The timing is honestly creepy....until you catch on to what's happening because the Ramshackle prefect isn't a dumdum.

"So....prefect, how about we go get dinner together tomorrow? Just you and me, what do ya say?" Ace slides into the seat to your right during breakfast. He leans in on his fist, eyeing you with a mischievous grin that crinkles the heart on his cheek. Just as he does, Sebek occupies the seat at your left and pushes Ace back with his palm.

"Do you ever rest?! They will do no such thing, now eat your meal before it runs cold. The chefs worked too hard for their efforts to be wasted by a delinquent!" Sebek answers on your behalf like clockwork. This event was not an uncommon sight to anyone, neither was Sebek failing to control his volume, so no other student paid the show any mind.

Normally you'd let them spit a few words at each other before returning to their own devices. Yet letting this continue just felt cruel, especially knowing that Ace was doing it to get a rise from your friend. Although Sebek wasn't innocent in the matter either

"Alright - Ace, would you knock it off? You don't even like me that way so quit messing with my head. I thought you were better than this," you say in between bites, side-eyeing your friend with a disapproving glare "And you!" you turn to Sebek, "I can answer for myself. Why do you even care? It's not like you're in charge of my love life. Just because someone wants to date me doesn't make them a delinquent...sheesh"

Why...why does he care? Sebek short circuits at your scolding, opening and closing his mouth to rebuttal yet coming up with nothing. Angered by his own turmoil, he grabs his meal and goes to sit with others from his dorm.

Stupid human. How dare you be so haughty and ungrateful? He was just protecting you from....from, what exactly? It's not like you going out with Ace would impact him in any way. It's not like you were in danger or upset with his advances. If anything. he was doing a good job at keeping your relationship professional for the sake of his liege!

Go ahead and date that childish hooligan for all he cares! Sebek won't be there to protect you when you're lost, or lend you a scarf on cold winter days. Ace can be the one to call you before bed every night, and keep your yearbook photo on his desk. Possibly keep his favorite candid photo as a bookmark for his diary, not that Sebek would know anyone that keeps a journal. He can have your birthday written in his calendar with a heart drawn around it, and have your picture in his wristwatch. He can set alarms to know when your classes end and walk you home. He can worry when you're sick and listen to your obnoxious prying....he can receive all your affections, and have your loyalty. Listen to your silly ramblings and receive those random 'i just thought of you' presents that Sebek always has a dilemma over what their purpose serves

You can be Ace's headache, and Sebek's heart will be lighter for it. These attachments he's formed were a lapse in judgement and will never be allowed again.

...

Sebek asks his lord for permission to court you. The next morning Malleus wakes to find the devotee bowed outside his bedroom, forehead attached to the floor and hands laid flat on the ground in reverence. Sebek proceeds to begin a long rant about how he's succumbed to his inner demons, and that he has sinned for letting another in his heart - Malleus cuts him off, happy to see love blossoming and interested to watch it all play out. He tells Sebek to take good care of you, before leaving. Meanwhile Sebek is sobbing at his lord's blessing

Once he's gathered himself, Sebek runs to your dorm and pounds on the door with fervor despite the early hour

Grim shakes you out of sleep, grumbling something about an 'annoying bastard' at the door before flopping back in bed. He shoves two pillows over his ears and tells you to fix the problem. That's when you hear the thumping, it's relentless and somehow sours your mood beyond what you thought possible. Mornings were not meant to exist on the weekend. So with an irritated groan, you slip on a robe over your pajamas and answer the door. A fist pauses in the air, moments from striking you. Sebek freezes momentarily, his body going ridged before coughing into his fist. A light blush dusts his cheeks.

“G-good morning, human. I apologize if I've disturbed your sleep, but I have an important announcement that cannot wait any longer" Sebeck studders, focusing on the door pane instead of your disheveled morning appearance.

“Alright" you sigh, resigning yourself to his whims, "what is it?"

Sebeck bows at the waist. "I am in love with you. Please accept my affections."

And so the motions continued on. A most unconventional pairing - possibly the hottest topic of the school year, in the words of Cater Diamond - was formed. Sebek was cautious of Ace at first, their previous spats leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. When he found out the truth, he was both appalled and grateful. So much that he scorned all his friends for weeks on end for pulling a stunt like that - but also thanking them. He apologizes for calling Ace a delinquent, and his heart changes a bit in response to their 'unique' display of care. Their intentions were good, and in the end it worked out. So he can pardon the indiscretion.

Life goes on until your relationship forms an 'awkward situationship'. The first time is brief. As it is with most cases of young love, the binding force that ties you to them crumbles. On earth it is highschool. In Twisted Wonderland it is NRC. Sebek knows where he's going - to serve the Draconias . The grey area is what you plan to do...because as much as his affections have grown, Sebek isn't willing to give up his dreams for you.

He's astonished when you decide to follow him to Briar Valley. He doesn't even have to breech the topic - arrangements were already being made without his input. You wouldn't be staying at the palace against his Lord's wishes. Instead a small cottage was built at a safe distance from the main city. Close enough for you to visit the castle, and far enough for you to feel comfortable and not out of place.

Seeing you taking his wants into consideration alters Sebek's perception of your relationship. You truly were lovers, and not a passing 'hormonal induced fling'. You loved him, and it's here when he truly begins to consider a forever. It was like the time when he first called your name, no longer calling you by 'prefect' or 'human'. He had done it many times in private, yet doing so to your face altered his brain chemistry. He loved the way your name rolled off his tongue, and the way your attention became his at the call.

Which leads us to the third and final major block-aid. Years have passed, and Sebek's well grown as an established knight for the Draconia family. He works alongside Silver, and many other comrades in arms. Everything is exactly as he dreamed. Malleus has become a beloved, strong king. Sebek is respected, and you are thriving as well. He didn't have much faith in your ability to last alone - it's not that he doubts your abilities, but he did doubt his people. When you first moved to Briar Valley Sebek was well aware that there were many like his past self - fae with a hatred for humans. He worried you would struggle to fit in.

Yet you surprised him. The tensions did exist against your kind, but you managed to card a space for yourself in Briar Valley with ease. You didn't even work in the palace, instead choosing to work towards becoming a children's teacher and work towards helping future generations of fae feel comfortable around humans.

His family adored you - with his mother in particular fawning over how Sebek fell down the same pipeline she did. His father offers you both advice on being an interspecies couple - and Sebek actually found himself listening.

Huh. Character growth. Is this what it's like to mature?

All is perfect, yet not. Sebek is forced to confront this when news travels that a human was attacked on their way to the palace. The dread that coursed through his veins was unlike anything Sebek's felt in his entire life. Under Malleus' rule, humans were slowly becoming more prevalent in Briar Valley. They hadn't mentioned your name specifically, but he jumped the gun.

Against his better judgement, Sebek abandons his post and rushed to the city's clinic. The injured human wasn't you, thank the seven, but the dread lingered. So he ran to the school you taught at and practically barged into your classroom. Luckily it was empty as the day was near end. Sebek hadn't known that yet still behaved recklessly.

He rushed to your side, talking faster than your brain could keep up with while checking over your body. He flipped topics like a teen trying to pick a college major - scolding you for worrying him, blubbering gibberish about how you'd no longer be allowed to walk alone, and myriad of other things.

Sebek was so shook, that he completely forgot about his knightly station. Malleus didn't punish him for abandoning his post. Not like it mattered, considering Sebek was already doing ample damage on his own. The realization hit him like a stone punch to the gut - there was a threat to his liege, and instead of focusing on apprehending the criminal he chose to find you.

Malleus' power or his dismissal of the matter meant little in the overall picture. Sebek failed. He's ashamed beyond belief.

and yet, he can't help but wonder what ight have been. What if you were the one attacked and he chose to stay? He would have failed you in that scenario.

He's surprised to find that the prospect his failure hurts just as much - if not more. His lord is powerful, and there are many to serve him. Your last moments could have been spent in a cold medical bed, surrounded by strangers. Fading away and taking Sebek's dreams with you.

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

Ah. Since when had that word become plural? His dream was always to serve Lord Malleus. Now there are more - he wants a family, and he wants to go to that play you were organizing with the valley's children next weekend. He wants to become a greater knight to protect the city that houses all the people he cares about. Again, plural. Lilia, Silver, his siblings and parents, all the human and fae who are loyal subjects to his most revered. You, and your decedents to come.

It's frightening. How valuable one's life can become. His always belonged to the Draconia bloodline to do with at they pleased - now Sebek's in pieces. Is he truly worthy of being a knight if he cannot give his whole heart?

He doesn't blame you for this. In his youth Sebek might have tossed your relationship aside in a heartbeat - that, or he might've demanded Malleus dismiss him and send him to repent in exile or whatever. Sebek has a problem with embellishing with dramatics.

BUT... he's more mature now. Mature enough to realize that maybe he can have his cake and eat it too.

So, he asks Lilia for advice. At this time the general merely lazes around the castle like a bat on the wall - acting as an advisor and observer. Surely he'd know what to do.

"There is nothing wrong with sharing a heart amongst many. If anything, the toughest decisions make us stronger. The more you have to lose, the stronger you will become to protect"

Preach it grandpappy. Lilia wants to see his grandkids so stop the slow burn already.

It's deja vu because Sebek wants to propose as quick as possible. Just like when he confessed, the man nearly runs to your home on impulse. You can thank Lilia for your proposal not taking place at 3am with your door being broke in two (Sebek is much stronger than he was in his teens, and sometimes miscalculates his strength).

Instead, Sebek finds himself anxiously clutching a ring in his pocket the following week. It was the night of a school play you were hosting - one he was looking forward to since you were so proud in your work. Ergo, Sebek felt pride as well by default.

How unfortunate that he can't focus on the show. With his mind reeling so much, it's taking all he has to sit quietly in the audience. His eyes follow your movements as you direct the kids, and for a brief moment you smile at him from the stage.

Zap. Alright. Don't clutch metal when you're a living thunderbolt. Duly noted. If anything the jolt of pain brings him back to reality.

When the play ends, and all the children have gone home with their families, he finds you back stage sweeping confetti. His plan was to congratulate you, and take you to a nice restaurant where he could do this properly.

Except he can't wait. When you turn around from putting the broom away, he's already taken a knee and holding the ring out. Those diligent gold iris' not pulling away for one moment, as he holds the ring out between two fingers and his other hand placed over his heart as if taking an oath.

"Before you say anything - You have sacrificed time and time again for my happiness - my efforts are insignificant in comparison. I have taken your patience for granted like a spoiled juvenile. There was a time when I found this kindness of yours unnecessary. I thought it a distraction - a test of my strength to fulfill my destiny. I see now that I was foolish”

Sebek pauses, grinding his teeth together in regret and anguish.

“I had not known fear until you. I have more to lose now than ever before. Last week I abandoned my post - my purpose- In that moment, all I could think about was if you’d been attacked, then my life would be over. You make me lose all sense of logic and reason…so I demand that you take responsibility and marry me!”

{A gold band with an obsidian base. Gold and silver flakes are sealed atop the obsidian plate using resin. Very practical, yet charming nonetheless. Humans typically wear matching bands, yes? Sebek sees no purpose in getting separate designs since the point is to show proof of partnership. He needs a practical shape that will not interfere with combat, yet also wants it to be an aesthetic choice. Sebek could care less about looks, but if he’s going to give you a ring then it will be the best possible option to match to your worth}

Silver is beautiful like still ocean waters. He's breathtaking - literally and figuratively. With the beauty of a fairytale prince, personality of a wise knight, and deadliness of the deep sea. It's easy to be sucked in when Silver seemingly has no flaws. So easy that at one point there were rumors of him being a living doll, created by the fae to be a perfect solider.

These perceptions all rely on his outward appearance: the knight in shining armor. Albeit so, being so perfect almost makes him unnoticeable. Compared to his rowdy peers with quirks and notable personalities - Silver truly is a doll. Like the complacent child praised for being more mature than their siblings. He is as easily forgotten as he is admired.

Some would say that this is a flaw in itself - because no one is naturally perfect. No one is so complacent and calm at birth. It's simply a desirable flaw. One that hurts him, yet has ben praised by others.

Silver is strong. Silver is diligent. Silver is beautiful. Silver is breathtaking and yet not the showstopper - like gold. Gold brings warmth while silver is cold. Imperfections in gold give it character, and can be seen as art. Imperfections in silver are seen as unsightly scratches.

Silver knows this, yet doesn't want to be gold. He doesn't deserve to be gold.

Silver doesn't deserve anything. He has already taken so much simply by living. He has a world to be grateful for, and not enough time to repay his debts.

He is content being Silver - if he could then he'd be copper. Lesser. Yet he is Silver, a reminder of the blood he carries.

He will remain unremarkable yet dedicated. He will dedicate everything to his family and friends - do whatever he can to break free of his sleeping curse and help others. He will give until he cannot give anymore. Then he will give more, to repay all he has received.

....For as much as he is content with this life, Silver still envies gold.

You are beautiful like a new dawn. Ushering in each day with a vibrant display that commands attention. People instinctively admire you despite the risk of hurting their eyes. You heal the world naturally, and help others simply by existing. People take you for granted, because inevitably the moon will rise, and the cold will inevitably return.

You were bathed in golden light. This Silver noticed the moment he laid eyes on you. He couldn't tear his eyes away.

Silver envies gold.

........

You envy Silver. His calm, his family, his dedication despite being limited by his crippling drowsiness. Out of the students from Diasomnia, he was the one you lingered towards more often than not. The freshmen revered him for his skills, and he was a true gentle soul. You at first couldn't believe that he was Lilia's son - how did such a kind boy come from a rambunctious tease? Revelations of his past brought much to light, and now you couldn't think of him being anyone else.

Silver was loved like the first snowfall. He had a family that loved him dearly, no matter how short his time with them would be. He was raised to bring happiness to others, and protect their hearts using his demure temperament.

Silver was modest, and silver glistened when you'd expect him to the least. As the wind caressed his hair during an afternoon siesta, or sparks lit in his eyes while swinging his sword. How the horses nuzzle his side after equestrian practice, showing full trust and affection. Even in the sweat dripping from his brow, shining as he easily finishes a set of push ups.

Yet nothing struck your heart more than the melancholy he'd emit when no one was looking. How quickly he'd fade into the background, only popping in when necessary or if someone gave him note. In these moments Silver gleamed brilliantly, yet a shadow put out his shine.

You thought the melancholy inviting. It felt so natural, so real. Except you believed it balanced dangerously between despair and serene. The larger question being which side would he evidently fall towards.

.........

Silver admires gold.

He couldn't stop the pull. He just couldn't. Not with how you seemingly watch him when no one else does. Who wouldn't feel special? With the way you take note of things he normally wouldn't think of, and recklessly delve into helping others with no regard for yourself. Whether you desire the trouble is beyond him - the matter is that you see every issue through. There isn't a soul who doesn't know of the ramshackle prefect.

Perhaps this is his torment to endure. To get a taste for what he could have been, and willingly be tied to it.

Silver stares into a vanity mirror, his expression neutral despite the growing emotions inside. A slightly tattered sheet is tied around his neck like a bib, covering his front and part of his back. A shiver runs down his spine as you comb through his hair, deftly trimming the edges with a pair of kitchen scissors with the precision of a professional. A shiver runs down his spine every time your fingers linger against his scalp, either from tucking stray strands or combing through layers with your fingertips.

Your expression is stern, eyes intensely focused as you cut around his ear, afraid to nick him in the process. He finds the expression adorable yet bites his tongue. Silver couldn't think those thoughts. Not when you offered to do this out of the kindness of your heart.

Nonetheless, his heart thrums. If it were possible he'd think the organ about to pop out at any moment.

"Finished!" you smile in satisfaction and tussle Silver's soft locks for good measure. In one fell swoop, you undo the knot around his neck and pull the makeshift apron off of him. Silver nods, a slight smile teasing the edge of his lips. He stands from the chair and steps over any hair on the floor, reaching for the broom to clean before you could think to. "Thank you. I no longer need to schedule with a barber. This will save much time," In truth he had no intentions for a haircut. You were the one to notice how his bangs hindered his vision, and offered to help. Silver couldn't bring himself to deny your kindness. "You really like it? Hehe. Y'know, maybe I should start a shop on campus? I only started doing this since there aren't any affordable salons....maybe with it I can finally afford to fix the guest room!" you cheer and prattle on about all the different possibilities. Occasionally you'll ask for Silver's input, or even give an off hand compliment about how he was the perfect 'test subject'. Your company is intoxicating, he realizes. Talking with you is as easy as drinking water. Before Silver realizes, night has fallen and you've fallen asleep on the couch. Despite his better judgement, he finds himself wandering the Ramshackle door. He compulsively cleans up the mess you'd both left behind during his visit, doing the dishes from dinner and rearranging things here and there. As he does so, Silver notes all the little improvements around the dorm. It feels more like a home than a school building. Then again you do live alone. He wonders how often you host visitors, and if you unknowingly ensnared them just as you've done to him. He covers your shoulders with a blanket and steps outside under the moonlight.

It’s cold.

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

You wake up the following day to find all the windows shut, your living room clean, and a warm blanket covering your shoulders. Your eyes peer around for silver, yet turn up empty.

Of course. Silver has a dorm to return to and people that would miss him if he returned late.

Shuffling around the silent dorm, the rickey old floorboards creek underneath your weight. In manufactured motions, you brew a cup of tea and pour it into the only well-used cup from the cabinet.

As your cup brews, you sit at the table with the blanket still clutched tight over your shoulders.

The tea goes cold, yet you are warm.

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

Silver loves gold.

but silver and gold don't mix. The question always is: silver or gold? When deciding a piece of jewelry to match your skin tone, people will ask 'silver or gold'? The metals are not meant to mix because they clash. It's an outfit catastrophe.

Yet, Silver cannot help but wonder. As he lays with his head in your lap and the sun and silence coaxing him to slumber - what if an outfit existed to compliment both silver and gold?

"Silver..are you sleeping again?" you tap his cheek with one hand, and his eyes open instinctively. Despite his drowsiness he will always look for you. Yet right now he's never regretted the magnetic pull more. With the sun casting a golden overcast, you peer down at him from above with tender eyes typically reserved for one's child. Your glow is breathtaking, and he cannot help the sinking feeling in his stomach that he is unworthy. With such gentle hands combing across his scalp and eyes that look upon him so tenderly - he is afraid to steal your warmth. And yet… "You are beautiful," Silver lets it slip, his hand reaching to brush against your jaw as if under a spell. He feels unnervingly calm. Not in his usual way, where he is constantly observing and playing a game of mental chess. This is a true calm, and he knows now that this is a point of no return.

Silver is beautiful like a still ocean. You are beautiful like the rising sun. When combined, a perfect image is formed just waiting for an artist to stumble upon it.

Against his wishes, the world has granted the child of dawn another gift. The gift of true love. 'True love's kiss will break the curse' and while it is childish to believe so in this case, Silver does so wholeheartedly.

When with you, the days pass like minutes. He wants nothing more than to forgo need for sleep, if only to work harder towards becoming a man worthy.

Silver envies gold for it's effortless demand for love, yet he no longer wants to be gold. He no longer wishes he were born copper.

Gold loves silver, so Silver he will be.

And with time, both Silver and Gold will be ground to dust regardless.

He thinks of this on a winter evening while holding a ring up into the moonlight. It's cold outside, yet he doesn't mind. The chill atop his nose does nothing but tinge it a lovely rosy color.

He looks through the windowpane into a home masquerading as a school building. His reflection is familiar yet changing rapidly in comparison to his family. The years have aged him, yet not by much. Silver is stronger, his soft jaw a bit sharper. His bangs have grown long again, it would soon be time for a cut. Perhaps he'd enlist a 'barber' after relocating back to the castle in briar valley.

Inside you sit at the couch, sipping from a well-used mug with Grim on your lap and watching cartoons. Silver's bag rests on the armchair, unzipped with nightly necessities spilling out the side. A slightly newer baby blue mug sits on the coffee table, with steam evaporating into the air as it waits to be used.

Silver smiles, walking towards the door and walking inside. Heat warms his cheeks and he is calm.

"I know I am unworthy of you, the thought plagues me to this very moment. Yet I cannot help but love you - like wishing on a star yet knowing deep in the depths of your heart that miracles are made not granted. I've received many, so I would know. My father gifted me life through love - and with you I understand how it is possible. I cannot imagine life without you. I promise this, I will cherish you and protect you for as long as you allow it. Would you marry me?"

Months later a ceremony is held in a secluded forest, in the yard of a cottage where a child first learned love. As an adult, he joins his most precious in matrimony, offering his sword to be sworn faithful.

You are beautiful like the first breech of daylight - and for once, Silver is happy to be a man of dawn.

Silver and gold.

Everyone wishes for silver and gold.

How do you measure it's worth?

Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.

{A ring forged from a silver band, gold leaf embellishments, and a moss agate core. Enough said.}

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #diasomnia #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #silver x reader #twst silver x reader #silver vanrouge #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst imagines #I FREAKIN FINALLYT FINISHED THIS SERIES

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gojossocks · 5 months

Text

Anything For You

Sukuna x Reader genre: fluff, hurt/comfort summary: After a thousand years, Sukuna never thought that he'd find you again. Only this time, your goals have changed and you weren't the person he can rule the world with anymore. Would he give that up just for you? wc: 2.7K content: friends to lovers, lovesick sukuna, kinda ooc sukuna because of how lovesick he is, mutual pining. they were in a situationship for a thousand years, can you guys handle that?

“Sukuna, don’t you feel alone in the past thousand years? I mean, all you’ve wanted is to gain power and do other villain-y things. It’s pretty lame and sad in my opinion.” Yuuji, his vessel, says mindlessly as he chews on his food while he waits for Megumi and Nobara.

“You insolent fool.” He sneered, a mouth forming on Yuuji’s cheeks. “I don’t mope around like you do. I was not alone either.”

Contrary to popular belief, Sukuna wasn’t heartless as most people paint him out to be. In fact, during the Heian Era, Sukuna is always seen to be with a powerful sorcerer.

There was you. The only person he sees as his equal.

But after you were killed, your history with Sukuna was quickly forgetten as the men write history in their own perspective. You are a significant figure in history, yes– but you and Sukuna together were only briefly mentioned in the books.

People have forgotten about how Sukuna, the King of Curses, have ruled the Jujutsu World with you by his side.

In the bygone days of the Heian Period, You and Sukuna have a unique bond as you two had grown up together. You were the only one who witnessed how he rises up to be the King of Curses. You were a powerful sorcerer too in your own way, despite the lack of title. Your benevolent nature has gotten a lot of people to respect you. People were not intimidated by your power but by your wisdom.

Despite your personality which is in contrast to Sukuna’s, it never became a hindrance between your bond. In fact, he seemed to like you more because of it. You taught him how to kill and destroy with purpose. and together, the two of you wreaked havoc on Earth.

You were the first and last person who knows him inside and out, not even Uraume could compare. He even prefers your shitty cooking, for god’s sake. He feels weak in your presence. Sukuna kind of resents you for it, how you make him feel. How he’s willing to burn the entire world at your command. He’d kill anyone without batting an eye if you ask him to. You have him wrapped around your pretty fingers and you don’t even know it.

He remembers going into the gardens of your shared home after a battle and you’d welcome him with open arms, hugging him with your little frame. You didn’t care about the blood on his clothes or how he reeks of death. You look at him with such kindness, as if he has done nothing wrong in this world. You held his hands with such gentleness, as if he has hasn’t covered his hands with so much blood. And you smile and crack jokes around him after terrorizing villages, you wrap bandages around his wounds even if he can heal it in a heartbeat. He loves being doted on by you.

He was really good at keeping his emotions to himself unlike you who’d outwardly show how much you love him. He had a feeling that you knew of his affections slightly. After all, you were the only one allowed to touch Sukuna, to tease him and be alive after that. He chose not to tell you his feelings because he thought that he’d have all the time in the world to tell you.

Well, he thought he did until he received the news that you were killed.

Sukuna didn’t look at your corpse, refusing that seeing your cold lifeless body would be his last memory of you. After that was just endless rampage of destruction. In his mind, it was his way of avenging you. People have forgotten about you because of the amount of lives he had taken— his crimes outweighed any humanity he had left of him.

It goes like that until he was defeated and sealed. Well, that was years ago but even now, all he thinks about is you. So much that he could still hear your laugh.

“Really?” Yuuji exclaimed. “I think I should ask Gojo-sensei about—”

Yuuji’s rambling was cut off with a sound of laughter, which causes both him and the demon inside him to look where that voice comes from.

That all too familiar voice that even after countless lifetimes, he would still recognize anywhere. Sukuna felt like his entire world stopped when he sees where that voice comes from. Everything seemed to blur as his entire attention is fixated on the woman.

It was you, in the flesh.

Or rather, someone who is an exact copy of you.

He had found you! You had reincarnated as he hoped you would. You kept your promise and you’d see him again.

You were walking and conversing beside Gojo Satoru as you approach Yuuji who stood up straight and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Who might this be?” You gave the kid a playful smile.

Sukuna was able to examine you up close as you walked closer to Yuuji. You were as beautiful as the day he lost you. You fit right into this modern period— you’re wearing a uniform similar to Gojo’s, but instead of pants, you were wearing a skirt and knee high boots. If someone were to tell Sukuna that he’d find you like this, fighting against him, he would have howled in laughter before killing that someone.

“Yuuji Itadori, miss!” the young sorcerer said, exuding a bit too much enthusiasm.

“So he is the vessel.” You acknowledged with a nod before sharing a look with Gojo Satoru.

“This is Y/N Y/L/N! She’s a special grade sorcerer from Kyoto but will be transferring here to accommodate you. She doesn’t go to missions anymore just like I do so Y/N would be there whenever you need her.” Gojo explains, putting a hand on you and Yuuji’s shoulders.

Yuuji’s eyes widened as he registered the significance of your name “Like the one in history books Y/N Y/L/N?”

“I wish.” You quipped, inserting a playful note in your response. “It was nice meeting you. I’ve waited for you, you know.” Then you extended your hand toward Yuuji and as your fingers met his, Sukuna could feel the familiarity of your touch. You looked at Yuuji with so much intensity, as if you’re looking at the curse residing in him. Right at Sukuna. and he didn’t fail to notice the way your smile was gentler compared to the ones you’ve given the kid.

It was for him.

You’ve seen him.

“Well,” You let out a sigh when you’ve pulled away. “I better get going. I’m sorry to cut this short, Yuuji. I hope we’ll get to know more of each other. I heard you like rice bowls, I’ll treat you to my favorite restaurant in tokyo next week, yeah?” You pat the top of his head and Yuuji gives you a huge grin.

Once you’ve left, Yuuji could finally notice Sukuna’s silence. He had been silent ever since you’ve arrived and Yuuji was about to tease him for it until Gojo spoke up.

“It’s her if she wasn’t being obvious enough.”

-.-

In the week following his unexpected encounter with you, Sukuna’s demeanor underwent a subtle transformation. He was less mean to Yuuji and the snarky remarks had lessened.

True to your promise, you spent time with Yuuji, fulfilling your role as a companion and mentor. However, your newfound indifference towards Sukuna fueled a frustration that within him. Did he merely imagine the spark of recognition in your eyes? Was it truly still you?

He found out a lot about you during the time you spent with Yuuji as well as the information that Gojo discloses concerning you. It seems as though you have helped the Jujutsu World slowly gain back its glory just like back in the golden days. You’re a teacher too, and from what Gojo has mentioned, you’re still the same patient and kind person he fell in love with.

Sukuna feels a twinge of jealousy at the mention of how you’re close with the white-haired sorcerer. He finds himself scoffing at the thought of you finally replacing him. It isn’t far from reality, you’re too likable for your own good anyway. You make it so easy to love you that Sukuna failed to notice that this disease has swallowed him whole and now he’s stuck, absolutely pining for you like an idiot. How dare you move on from him if that’s the case?

He needed answers from you or else he’d go crazy. So he finds out where you live and he found out that you were living in the more peaceful side of Tokyo. It took him a while to get in control again and the moment he did, his feet carried him to you.

Your house is beautiful, it looked like the mini version of the place that you once shared with Sukuna. He entered it quietly and to his surprise, you were no where to be found but then he catches a glimpse of you in the window overlooking the garden.

Sukuna finds himself smiling as he reaches the garden. It had a variety of flowers and plants, the very ones you had planted with him years ago. You’re wearing a beautiful red plaid sundress and the modern age never looked so good in anyone but you.

You were simply ethereal.

You were too engrossed in watering your plants when he walks towards you.

“Old habits hard for you, Y/N.” Sukuna spoke up, his voice devoid of any usual domineering tone that he uses to other humans.

You turned to him, wide eyed. It was the first time you’ve seen him in ages. Sukuna’s still in the body of the young sorcerer that you frequently saw the past week but he looked like him—with his tattoos and demeanor. Your eyes are soon filled with tears and you shakily reached for him, engulfing him in a tight embrace.

“Finally.” You choked out, burying your face to his chest. Sukuna carefully snakes his hands towards your back on instinct. “It’s been so long. it was all worth it. I knew you’d come back.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. Sukuna’s voice turned hoarse as he spoke. “I thought you were killed I-”

“I’m already here, Ryo.” You interrupted, pulling away to cup his cheek gently. Sukuna leaned in to the warmth of your touch, melting in an instant. “ I wasn’t. I was just sealed until I was let out by one of my dearest friends. I came to find you but you were already gone, so I waited.”

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

“You were asleep for almost a thousand years. I was alive for most of it, clearly I missed you more.”

“Well, I thought you were dead. Cut me some slack, doll.” Sukuna teased with a smirk. You bite your lip to stifle your smile, playfully nodding inagreement.

“Come with me.” He murmured, pulling away to press his lips against your forehead. “After I kill this brat, I can take control and we can finally change the world.”

“By killing everyone in it?” You shakily asked. Sukuna thought that you were just shaken because of how glad you are to have him back.

He gave you a smirk. “Well, that was my idea. You know how I am.”

“Times have changed, Ryo. I’m afraid that it has softened me. I’m not the person you used to imagine burning the world down with anymore.” You calmly admitted, meeting Sukuna’s intense gaze and you tried to calm him down by tracing circles on his arm but he didn’t look convinced in the slightest.

“I’m here now. You could drop your act. I can protect you now, you know.”

“You don’t understand, dear.” you interjected, gently pushing a strand away from his face. “We have different objectives now. You seek to take over the world and be feared forever. I seek to live out my days in peace until I decide to end it.”

You must’ve noticed how Sukuna’s expression dropped at your words so you quickly clarified. “oh no, but don’t think I’d end my life after our interaction. In fact, I’ll live for a few more years until it will bore me to death. Literally. But there’s just so much to love and to do in this world, I’m afraid.”

“Don’t you want to be with me? Have you grown tired of me?” He demanded, his voice getting louder as he continues to talk. You weren’t fazed in the slightest and it aggravates him even further. It used to comfort him, that you know him so well, but now the butterflies in his stomach makes him anxious more than anything else.

You have always had the upper hand and he feels you cursing him the more you grant him your presence.

He feels disregarded as you implicitly rejected him.

“No.” You offered him a sweet smile, your eyes never leaving his. Sukuna thinks he might float with the way you’re looking at him right and his breath hitched once he hears you say the next words. “I love you, Ryo. In fact, I love you enough to know of your nature and I would be the last person who would stop you in achieving what you want. I wouldn’t be in your way but I couldn’t stay by your side anymore.”

Sukuna searched for a hint that indicates that you were lying and he found none. You had always been honest with him. He looks at you with a heartbroken expression but still trying to maintain his stoic face. He’s clearly hurt “Did our past mean nothing to you?”

“I’ve done everything I could, Ryo. I’ve done everything for you. You know I did that all for you. Wasn’t that enough? Didn’t you feel my love for you in the slightest? You could kill me now, if you want. It’d be a pleasure to die by your hand.” Your eyes are once again brimmed with tears again yet you continued to smile as you trail your fingers over his cheek “I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing red. Gojo must’ve told what I did, you must know my change of heart.”

He did.

Of course he did.

He knew of what you did yet he still held on to the fact that he might be wrong. So is this really how it ends? Sukuna enjoys destruction and killing. He loves being in power and he will not admit that if you weren’t alive, he’s probably murdering civillians in Shibuya right now. But after he’d gain control over Yuuji Itadori’s body, the only thing that he keeps thinking of is coming home to you.

And what would the point be if you are not by his side?

“Then I’ll stay with you.” He declared.

A scoff escapes your lips and your bewildered expression makes him smirk even more. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’ll just finish this and I’ll come back to you. None of this matters anymore. I’ll abandon all of it. For you.”

You looked at him incredulously, your mouth agape. Sukuna wastes no time to finally pull you in a kiss.

It was a gentle one at first and he pulls away slightly to see you pout, eliciting a chuckle from him, only to pull you back to a deeper, passionate kiss. Sukuna smiles into the kiss as a soft gasp escapes from you.

He kisses you fervently, as if he needs your air to breathe. And as you run your hand through his hair, moaning to the kiss, he pulls you impossibly closer.

He’s home.

He returned to you 3 months later, in his original form. He entered your house with wounds and bruises, his body covered in blood once more. It was just like before, but this time, it feels so different. He had a soft look in his eyes and he feels like he’s floating on air now that he’s gone home to you.

Just like before, you welcomed him with open arms. He lifted you and spinned you around, eliciting a squeal from you. When he puts you down, you peppered kisses to his face and hugged him really tight.

“I love you.” Sukuna whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear before leaning in to kiss you gently. You smiled at his confession. There was a look in your eyes that you knew it all along.

“It took you a millennium to say that.”

wanna read more?

a/n: i bet he still murders in his free time after being retired 😻

#sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna hurt/comfort #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader angst

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serpentandlily · 6 months

Text

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

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“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort.

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these.

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost.

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame.

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family.

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well.

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.”

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs.

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother.

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble.

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body.

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.”

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.”

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs.

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings.

Both felt so violating.

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on?

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds.

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him.

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled.

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.”

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?”

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say.

Nothing left to say at all.

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love.

You were just simply not enough.

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room.

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of.

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.”

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this.

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.”

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display.

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing.

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.”

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.”

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.”

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.”

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.”

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.”

“So what happens now?” Mor asked.

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all.

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.”

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?”

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.”

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body.

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.”

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes.

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.”

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.”

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday.

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed.

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?”

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close.

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.”

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.”

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up.

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much.

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured.

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears.

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.”

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.”

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight.

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?”

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.”

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking.

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.”

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again.

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady.

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence.

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him.

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.”

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.”

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good.

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion.

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation.

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.”

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.”

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.”

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?”

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her.

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed.

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.”

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order.

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.”

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.”

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.”

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.”

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.”

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.”

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.”

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.”

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.”

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.”

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.”

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.”

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger.

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.”

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.”

Elain fell back in her chair, crying.

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?”

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.”

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again.

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel.

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could.

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.”

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian.

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you.

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.”

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger.

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away.

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed.

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!”

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!”

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics.

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth.

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best.

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch.

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!”

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!”

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another.

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?”

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further.

“Yes,” Lucien nodded.

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously.

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back.

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing.

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings.

“What are we doing here?”

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked.

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year.

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.”

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?”

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him.

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.”

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.”

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.”

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head.

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian.

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky.

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky.

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again.

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were.

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another.

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up.

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person.

That girl from a year ago?

Well, you were finally going to let her die.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you.

But now…now it just looked like a rock.

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea.

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!”

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath.

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.”

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning.

#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #angst with a happy ending

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satyricplotter · 2 months

Text

pairing: dick grayson x reader

word count: 3.2k (i think?)

warnings: rape mention (as per dick's canon)

notes: i keep thinking of applying one of my favourite manga/manhwa tropes with dick specifically, because it works so well, but i don't particularly care to put in the work of setting up that it'd take for it to land as well as it could. maybe later. as it is, i'll give you the quick rundown because i spent two days writing it lol

something ugly about you has made you undeserving of romance. you have spent your entire life puzzling out what it is and how to fix it. nothing much is special about you: the matter’s far from isolation, or becoming any particular sort of pariah. perhaps that'd be easier to explain. no. people leave you alone, your friends cherish you, your family loves you. it is not that you have not known affection, but that you have and so when you crash against the wall that horrible first time, it hurts all the more.

nothing changes after that. there is always a limit to where your interest can reach, unnamed but palpable. a line you cannot cross. it seems to you as if the entire world has reached a silent consensus during a meeting to which your attendance was not required and your input unnecessary. why would it be? this is not about you. after all, your ability to love has not become impaired. you like people. you’ve fallen in love. but who has ever loved you back?

this one facet of life has been closed off to you entirely, and you’ve been chased away from all attempts to form a romantic bond with unspoken threats of shame and implications of disgust. (a bit much of a display just for the offense of being little old you. you come to regard the matter so as you grow older and start curating some self-respect. it still stings as badly as scrubbing your skin raw under hot water, but not all the loathing is directed inward nowadays.)

regardless, you’ve learnt that you are undesirable, and nothing you can say or do will change that. you must be content with the other shapes that love can take. nothing that you want matters whatsoever.

you meet dick grayson one summer evening under exceedingly normal circumstances. you do not know about heroes or rogues, no batmans or nightwings. the person that crosses the threshold is none other than dick grayson, the handsome young man. suspicion does not cross anybody’s mind, and if it does, it comes only a good couple of thoughts after his darling smile and shapely thighs.

obviously you like him immediately. what’s not to like? he’s gorgeous.

you react to him with the tense wariness of someone hardened by years of useless crushes. trying to avoid him. trying to be normal when you invariably cannot. it’s fine. it’ll be fine.

you still crush on him.

it’s inevitable, at this point. he’s too pretty, too smart, too kind not to draw you in. every interaction comes a rush of exhilarating fear. at times, you manage to subdue yourself into normalcy, hang out with him with as much naturalness as you can muster. but then he does something particularly attractive and you’re back in square one, shoulders drawn together and so short with him he probably gets emotional whiplash. it’s as exhausting for you as it must be for him, and he still reacts to it with grace. it doesn’t help.

through your concerted efforts to be normal, or at least appear as much, you and dick become friends. not great friends, mind you, but good enough that you start hanging out on your own without any of your mutual friends present. and you only spend about three hours total pondering the meaning behind the phrasing of his texts. that’s gotta be some form of progress, right?

he sits at a little table away from the window, and beams when you arrive. coffee’s on him and conversation’s on you. you’ve got more in common than you first thought, but you go back and forth between imagining it must be fate and squashing down delusion, telling yourself you’re blowing it out of proportion.

at one point in time, a beautiful, sultry-looking woman approaches the table.

this sucks, you think, glancing away from dick’s bland mask of politeness. all of it is hopeless and it still sucks.

you and dick tense immediately, like you both know what’s coming. sure as ever, the woman smiles and asks for his number. you look away politely, sip at your drink. the proximity makes it useless to pretend you’re not eavesdropping (though it can hardly be called that when she came to your table), but you take care not to make any faces that’d give away the little storm brewing in your stomach.

you think about running off to the bathroom, get as far as shifting on your seat when dick shoots you a troubled look. the woman’s been at it for a little more than is appropriate. a minute or so more of insistence and she’ll be stretching the boundaries of her own dignity too far. you look away with pressed lips and move your hands under the table.

your alarm beeps.

“oh, shit, dude,” you gasp, hoping to land somewhere in the ballpark of realism. “It’s almost seven. we’ve got to go, or else we’re gonna miss the movie.”

dick gives the woman his apologies and swiftly runs out of the café with you hot on his heels. on the way to the movie theatre, you wanna ask the million questions running through your head—why’d he reject her? didn’t he like her? did he not think she was pretty? who is pretty for him? what’s his taste in partners? is he seeing someone?—but you know it’s a futile endeavor. what will you even get out of that? it’s clear dick didn’t enjoy the interaction either. you make small talk about something else, trying to draw his attention away from whatever conflicted feelings he’s moored in right now. just because you like him doesn’t mean you can’t be a good friend to him.

it’s a short walk. soon enough, he’s all smiles again. in the line for the popcorn stand, another two girls come up to him, this time much younger than you two. he’s nicer with them than he was before, but he rejects them all unequivocally.

“doesn’t it annoy you?” you can’t help but ask. when dick raises an elegant eyebrow, you panic and backpedal so hard you might as well have driven a truck through a storefront.

“a bit,” dick says, ignoring your rambling. you shut your mouth firmly closed when he gives you a sidelong glance, and continues, so very casually, “it’s worse when it comes from a friend rather than a stranger. so many people just try to befriend me because they’re looking for a relationship, or they want access to my body. it’s… tiring. i’m sure you can relate.”

“ah,” you say. your tongue feels numb, but you’re burning up under the weight of his gaze. “no. I don’t really get harassed like that or, um, asked out.”

“huh.” dick blinks. “really?”

“yeah,” you force out. blessedly, the attendant calls your attention. you jostle dick forward. “look, it’s our turn.”

dick orders popcorn. you get a large slushy that you’re not gonna finish. you make him pay. he complies with no question. inside the theatre, you spend all two hours and sixteen minutes of the showing in absolute silence. it is not so strange to be fixated on the movie, but you’re usually a little more chatty. under normal circumstances, you’d eagerly take the opportunity to lean closer to him, whisper something about the main character’s penchant for gummies and its relation to the degradation of the American working class. he’d glance at you and thoughtfully smile, and you’d catch a whiff of his cologne when you straightened. for the rest of the movie, the twinkle of his eye as he forwent the film for your conversation would be all you’d think about.

such is not the case now.

you can tell when you’ve been summarily dismissed. in fact, you appreciate when people are subtle about their rejections. it’s always all the more humiliating when they feel the need to bring it out into the open, like your affections have been so blatant they must be commented on, debated.

the rest of the evening is spent convincing yourself that this is good, that this means it’ll be better for yourself going forward. you’ll be less distracted, if anything. dick’s attempts to discuss the movie with you afterwards fall flat, as the only thing you really want is to get home and stare at your ceiling.

when you’ve reached your apartment door, and are turning to enter after a hurried goodbye, dick calls your name.

“look,” he says, running a hand through his hair unsurely. “I don’t usually do this.”

oh, no. dread fills you up. he’s breaking up with you and you’re not even dating.

you swallow. “dick—”

“I like you a lot,” he interrupts. your teeth clang the way you shut up so fast. in fact, you feel a little dizzy. he continues before you can even process that first sentence. “I think you and I could be really good friends, and I’d love if we could continue seeing each other to, you know, hang out and talk. I do truly appreciate your insight. is that okay?”

you blink fast some three or four times. it must be comical, the face you’re making, because the corner of dick’s lips pulls upward despite him trying to keep a serious air.

“I thought we were already friends…?” you say, at a loss for anything else to say.

“yes!” he beams. “we are.”

“okay,” you respond, perplexed. this is so far out of left field. “um. text me when you’re home?”

“yeah.” he grins. gorgeous grin, to be sure, but why? “for sure.”

“cool.” you give him an awkward thumbs up and scurry inside.

it is… baffling. you spend all of that night wide awake and pondering. dick must’ve misconstrued something, or either you missed a crucial step in your relationship. otherwise the end to that evening makes absolutely no sense. the only thing you can conjure up is that dick must reject a lot of people who, like he said, try to befriend him only to get with him or worse, only to fuck, and it’s not very likely most of those people stay in his life once it is clear he won’t budge on the matter. the fact that you didn’t immediately turn your back on him must’ve come to him as a pleasant surprise.

it’s sad. like, really fucking sad, actually.

that very sadness—and the memory of his handsome, bright grin—turns your outlook inside out. why do you like dick? clearly he’s got the looks and the personality, but do you really know him? what do you know of him? you make a list of things you’ve learned about him in the short time of knowing him. it’s not long.

you come to the conclusion, mortifyingly so, that you don’t, in fact, like dick grayson. that, if anything, the only thing you like is the idea of the boyfriend he could be, which is not the boyfriend that he is (you know nothing about that). it’s the social acumen inherent in bagging such a hottie, and the sparkling sexual attraction bound around it, that really prompt your crushing. it’s not dick as a person. frankly, you think, a little hysterically, could be anyone, really. didn’t even have to be dick. he was just there, the handsomest person in the room. an apt target for the voracious hunger of your heart. you’d mooned and mooned over him for ages and it turns out it wasn’t even about him.

god, you’re such an asshole.

in penance, you endeavor to actually get to know dick without the embarrassment of a crush between you. and it does, in fact, help. dick’s eager to get to know you too, now that you’ve both formally acknowledged you’re friends (such a weird practice, fresh out of kindergarten behavior, but, as you soon find out, dick is weird about plenty and not entirely well-adjusted as an adult). you go on outings together, attend one another’s events, text sporadically throughout the day. you learn which video games dick likes, you tell him which movies are your favorites. it’s fun and light and uncomplicated now that you’ve freed yourself from the constraints of romantic expectation.

not everything’s good. dick’s got bad habits, which grate on you. is it so difficult to put the stupid toilet seat down? can he not learn to chop vegetables in chunks smaller than an elephant’s baby teeth? can he, for the love of god, stop yelling at the tv during horror films? he’s got some serious character flaws, too. you find about those a lot more slowly, but they don’t cause too much trouble.

you fight one or two times due to dick suddenly abandoning you in the middle of an outing with no regard for your safety, and his tendency to get pissy instead of saying whatever’s upsetting him upfront when he knows, you’ve warned him that you’re stupidly thoughtless about your actions at times. all those are things you wouldn’t have come to experience if you hadn’t given the man a chance to actually be a friend. it’s kind of heartening, actually, to have come so far.

sometimes your crush rears up its head in the middle of nowhere. it’s kind of hopeless by now, but you can’t help the fact that dick’s attractive. neither can he, anyway. you just watch him sometimes, the way the sun hits his eyes, lashes sweeping over his cheeks. it makes you go tongue-tied and silly, but the moment always passes. it has to pass. you struggle against it, recall every time dick has upset you or insulted you in one way or the other. some days it’s easy as buttering toast, others you can barely think around the searing heat of your desire. those are bad days for all involved.

one evening, when you’ve grown close enough you’ve begun to think about dick grayson as maybe, possibly, only-if-he-says-so-too your closest friend, he tells you about catalina.

he does it over the phone line, during your almost-nightly calls. over the months, you’ve taken up the practice of teasing him about handsome people he clearly finds attractive in a desperate bid to divert attention and train yourself for when you have to do it for real. this is not one of such cases, and as soon as you realize this, you sober up immediately.

he says it so simply. talks about it like it’s just a hazard of life. there’s a tight hardness at the edge of his voice, but other than that, he speaks like it’s normal Tuesday for him.

not so much for you.

“is it okay if I come over?” you request over the line.

for a moment, the only thing you hear is dick breathe. “yeah,” he croaks, and you’re bolting out the room immediately.

you don’t know how to react to this other than with a shaky sort of desperation. it’s been years since it happened. there’s nothing you can do about it now. there’s something big he’s leaving out, which you notice but don’t point out. a big lump forms on your throat as he speaks. dick tells you when you arrive that the woman is behind bars for an unrelated crime and the only way you stop yourself from wishing ill on her out loud is the fact he looks so politely disjointed, you know your fury will only startle him.

and you feel it so frightfully, the fury.

you love dick, you realize. beyond the fancies and the underlying attraction, you love dick as a person, as a friend. he’s one of yours now.

the evening morphs into a casual sleepover. you don’t interrogate him, and he seems torn between wanting to say more and grateful you’re not prying. you keep yourself open to the possibility, but also try to comfort him as best you can. you make dinner. you put on a movie. you talk and joke and quietly watch. he invites you on the bed with him because his couch is a nightmare to sleep in and his guest room is “unavailable”, whatever that means. you don’t even think about it, just follow.

lying together under the sheets with the lights off, the rest of your feelings bubble up to the surface.

you ask before you clasp his hands between yours and look into his shiny eyes in the darkness. you try to tell him, how this single evening and all those that came before turned over your loyalty to him. how he can come to you for anything he ever wants or needs—your ear, your care, your protection. how much you appreciate his trust and how much you wish you could make anything, everything better for him. how much he deserves it.

“I’ll never leave you now,” you vow with fierce conviction, searching his eyes for any signs of doubt. any other time you would’ve questioned this statement with the sheer weight of infinite possibilities, but not now. tonight, truth is absolute and in your hand. “they will never take me from you. I will always be on your side, by your side. i’m serious, grayson. you’re not getting rid of me.”

a glimpse of a watery smile is the only thing you see before dick throws his arms around you and buries his face in your neck. “couldn’t dream of it,” he whispers into your hair.

you hug him back as tightly as he is, murmuring platitudes and running your fingers through his hair. he falls asleep like that, in the cradle of your arms. he feels secure enough to do so, and you feel both proud and nauseous about it considering the secret you keep.

that he’s told you this at all, that he’s trusted you with such a thing—you know how big it is. you know you can never betray him.

you consider your inherent monstrosity, that little unspeakable thing that bars your from that special kind of love. you understand, firmly, that any desire you feel will never be received eagerly and joyfully. not by him or anyone else. in silent fury, you vow to die before you be like her, to bestow upon this man your grotesque wanting with no regard for his own desire, for the integrity of his being.

that night, you press a kiss to dick grayson’s hair and let him go forever.

the next morning, dick watches as you leave. you turn back one last time to wave at him from the parking lot, a bright smile and tussled hair you didn’t bother to brush. you wear out the clothes he lent you to sleep, so harried last night in your haste to come over that you’d simply forgotten to pack pajamas. he suspects you hadn’t planned to stay the night at all, but he’d been damned if he’d let you go yesterday.

you’re pretty. he’s always thought so, but this morning, you’re prettier than ever. it’s the radiance of your heart shining through.

I will always be by your side, you’d said last night. you’d meant it completely, then. dick had been dazed, overcome. he couldn’t take the brightness of your eyes, the surety of your affection. he’d buried his head in your neck and fallen asleep breathing in the smell of your shampoo. in the morning, he’d woken up with your fingers carding through his hair and the gentle warmth of your body against his.

that was nice. he wonders what he has to do to make it happen again.

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dc imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #not that the night life features as anything other than a mention #anyway for those in the know.... this is the chundan 'i like you because you don't have expectations of me'/'im never gonna like ycy' scene #except set up a little differently given there's no isekai happening here #satplotdb

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readychilledwine · 4 months

Text

Lost Bonds pt 2

Summary - After the second war, an unexpected bond with Y/n Archeron, and repairing all he's lost, Tamlin is shocked with news from the very female Rhys has been protecting from him.

Warnings- cliffhanger because I liked the suspense, angst in a way, unrequited love, one sided fated mates

A/N - I'm going to apologize and ask for forgiveness now. The rest of this is written, but it was uncomfortably long. I broke it into 3 parts, so you all weren't reading a short novella.

Read part one here Pt 3

Winnowing was the stupidest form of transportation, y/n thinks she has ever used.

She sighed as she walked through the woods she found herself in, praying silently to the void that she was still in the Night Court.

It definitely did not smell like home, though. The sweet scent of flowers and petrichor surrounded her like a warm embrace. Welcoming her, relaxing her. Her finally clue she was lost came from looking up once more. The trees were blooming. It was late winter in Velaris. Yet here, small pink and white buds covered every tree she could see. They swayed in a soft, rain scented breeze that almost seemed to tingle her skin.

She sighed heavily, playing with the wedding ring and band resting on her left ring finger. She didn't know if Azriel would be proud or upset. She had managed to winnow herself from the Illyrian Steppes to Spring.

Even new to the world of the fae, she knew that was not an easy thing to do. It explained her exhaustion, the small trickle of blood running down her nose. She continued walking, hoping she would find someone, anyone who may help her.

Tamlin felt someone enter his court uninvited and shifted to head their way. All the High Lords had just received a message from Rhysand regarding her.

Azriel had evidently been training her with her new powers blooming and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. She had been practicing winnowing, and now they could not find her.

It would have been ridiculous to assume an untrained female had made her way all the way down to the seasonal courts, but after Nesta had shown her hand just a few years ago, and Elain after that, it would not have surprised any of the High Lords at this point. He continued moving closer to the border between his court and the human realm, following where the magic was alerting and then pausing.

You stood before him, illyrian leathers clinging to every beautiful curve. He shifted with a heavy sigh. “Come. Let's get you to The Manor so Rhysand can come get you.” The look of relief washing over your features tugged at his heart. The bond had not snapped for you, but he didn't need to feel your emotions to know you were afraid and very tired.

You took his hand, bracing yourself as he tore through the fabric of the world and landed in a garden outside of his repaired estate. “You need food,” he said casually. “We can either go inside so you can eat while you wait for him, or there's a table out here.”

He wanted to beg you to come inside, to see what he had done, to see what your home should look like. He had imagined for years now a life with you. A life where he heard your laughter every day, where you loved him and he you.

He had rebuilt his home with that life in mind. A grand piano sat centered in a sunroom you'd both use for entertaining. A dais where two thrones sat. Rooms for future children if you want them. He rebuilt the manor with love he had buried away for you. And now he hoped you noticed it, acknowledged it even. You belonged here. You would radiate here.

Aside from showing your body, the black leathers of the Night Court did nothing for you. You needed to be in jewel tones, in light colors. He remembered your skin glowing in the gown at the High Lords meeting. He ignored the pain in his chest as he saw the ring sitting on your finger, the one that matched that dress perfectly.

Blue was a lovely color for you. The silver band was plain as if Azriel had not put much thought into the ring. It was beautiful, but his heart rebroke, knowing it should have been rose gold and diamonds sitting on that finger.

You motioned inside, wordlessly avoiding eye contact with him. He took you to the dining room where dinner had been waiting for him and grabbed another plate and cup.

He served you in silence. The familiarity of the situation almost mocked him. “Thank you,” your voice was so soft it had him almost shivering. It had been 6 years since the war ended, 6 years without seeing or hearing it, and it had his soul burning. He yearned for you. His perfect match.

He nodded. “You're welcome.” He summoned a paper, writing a note to Rhysand and the other High Lords that he had found you and where you had made it to. “Rhys will probably come running, so eat quickly.”

You shook your head. “He's so busy with Nyx lately that he hardly cares what I'm up to. He will send Azriel.” His throat tightened. He'd had to see his mate with her husband.

Your husband, who was probably worried sick, who probably had been searching as far out as he could. “Then you should definitely eat quickly. Mother knows how desperately he probably wants his wife back home.” Tamlin clocked the way your eyes grew sad, the small frown that formed.

“Yeah. I suppose.” He didn't question that sadness, allowing you whatever space you needed to process it alone.

You were so comfortable next to the male who had ruined everything for you that it was almost laughable. Tamlin, to your shock, was warm. He was being kind. He seemed to know what you needed before you even asked. You had pictured Tamlin as this monster for so long. A cruel male with a heart of stone, but his mere presence had something glowing in your chest, sending warmth through your body. “I thought the manor was destroyed.”

Tamlin's green eyes looked towards you, spoon held halfway to his mouth. “I had a reason to fix it, along with the whole court.”

You nodded. “It's really pretty.” The walls were lined with Vining floral, marble floors dancing with natural stone veining. Soft green curtains veiled the large floor to ceiling windows. "Elain would love all the flowers. She used to make me work in the gardens with her. I miss it sometimes."

He seemed to blush at the words. “Thank you. And if you truly miss working gardens, there are plenty here that would love attention." Your lips twitched up, but you two fell back into silence.

Tamlin was unsure of what to say to his mate. A piece of parchment appeared beside him, elegant script gracing the page. “Rhys will be here in a moment with Azriel.”

You nodded before caving and asking the question that had been on your mind since you first met the male in his beast form, breaking down the door to the rundown shack you all called home. “What was the significance of killing the wolf?”

He turned to you, brows raised. “Feyre didn't tell you?” You shook your head, staring at the tea you were holding. “I was cursed by one of Hyberns former generals. In short, I had to make a mortal who hated fae enough to kill one fall in love with me in order to break her spell and free the lands. That wolf was one of my closest friends.” The last sentence was barely audible. “Feyre killing him made her the only one who could break the curse.”

As your face fell into confusion, darkness appeared in the manor, gathering in the corner like a void until Azriel and Rhysand stepped out. “Tamlin,” Rhysand greeted smoothly. You couldn't help but to laugh at the High Lord, covered in paint, hair ruffled, eyes tired. “y/n, are you okay?”

You stood nodding, and Azriel moved quickly to you, arms around your waist as he picked you up and held you close. Once he set you down, you turned to Tamlin. “Thank you for sheltering and feeding me and for the invitation to play in your gardens."

“Of course,” he and Rhysand were locked into a stare down, one Rhysand clearly had every intention of winning. “She is unharmed, Rhysand. Just tired and needing rest. You're allowing him to push too hard.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes, looking to you then back to Tamlin before nodding. “I will consider your opinion. Let's go, y/n. Nyx was distraught when he heard you were missing.” Any chance Tamlin may have had of convincing you to stay faded instantly. You moved to Rhysand, letting him take your hand and examine your face for any injuries. “Azriel, let's go.”

The shadowsinger nodded and spoke coldly to Tamlin. “Thank you for caring for my wife.”

Tamlin hid a scoff behind his wine and nodded. “It wasn't for your benefit, spymaster.” The two glared hard towards each other before Azriel smirked and walked towards you.

A feeling of guilt sat in your stomach, lingering there as Rhys began to summon his magic. “Wait,” you pulled your hand away from Rhys and took a step closer to Tamlin. “I'm sorry.”

The Lord of Spring arched a brow feeling the conflict in you from the bond. “For?”

You took a heavy breath, hands shaking as you subconsciously reached for Azriel's hand. You needed his familiarity, possibly his protection. You were about to tell Tamlin something that may have made everything he had gone through feel empty, like his love for your sister had been for nothing. You took a deep breath, looking up and sending a silent prayer to the Mother.

“Feyre didn't kill the wolf," the faces of all three males dropped, the secret finally coming out and being brought to light. “I did."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x reader #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin x archeron!reader

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short-honey-badger · 8 months

Text

Phantom Pain part 2

Masterlist

Part 2 of my mini fic. I hope you enjoy this one as well!

You jerk away from his hand with a sneer, cheeks flushing at the unexpected kiss, "Please get off of me," you demand, tone not leaving any room for joking. Just because the two of you apparently belonged together didn't mean he could get all touchy-feely with you immediately.

You are pleased when he actually lets you go and plops back into his own seat. You turn and examine him with a frown, flickering your eyes up and down his rather impressive form. Your soulmate was handsome in a rugged sort of way with dark eyes and a carefree smile that could put anyone at ease. Anyone but you, at least.

"Shanks," you say his name and the man perks up like a puppy. You furrow your brow at him, trying to recall why his name sounds so damn familiar, and you jerk back even further when it finally clicks, "Red-Haired Shanks? The Yonko?" You demand, and your voice goes a little shrill at the end. Your heart wants to beat out of your chest, and your eyes are wide as dinner plates. It would be your luck that someone so terrifyingly strong would be your soulmate. This must be to make up for your own cowardly and wiley ways. You were a firm believer in not your monkey, not your circus.

This man made other people's business, his business, and that wasn't something you wanted to deal with. Not like you had much of a choice if he was believed, but you would not hide away how you felt. You've never held back before. Why stop now?

Shanks just laughs when he feels your annoyance and frustration stream down the bond the two of you share, "Yep," he pops the p and leans in close to you, and you lean away in response, "The one and only," he gives you a smug little grin and you suddenly want to wipe it off his face with a well-placed punch, "You still haven't told me your name yet, Hon."

You reach for your mug to give yourself a little bit of time to think about how you want to respond. Running was out of the question. His entire crew was in the building with him, and you didn't think you could get very far anyway. And even if you did manage to get away, Shanks knew what you looked like and could easily track you down with the connections he surely had.

You let out an explosive sigh and mourn the freedom you once had, and then quietly tell your soul mate your name.

"_," Shanks says your name softly, tasting the syllables on his tongue, and you shiver at the way he says it. How can he say your name with so much emotion attached to it? How can he care so much about you already? It's enough to almost frighten you.

Shanks stares at you, brushing away your rising confusion that he feels. You were nothing like he had expected out of a soul mate, surly and snappy with a bad attitude. But you were his, and he would show you how much you meant to him even if you didn't want anything to do with him. You were made for him, just like he was made for you.

"I like it, your name I mean," the redhead says, and satisfaction curls hot in his chest when he feels your embarrassment. Who knew that you were so shy? He wonders if it is your biology or you responding to him.

"Thanks, I guess," you murmur and give him a strange look. What an odd statement to make, but your soul mate seemed like an odd man anyway, so what was new?

Shanks grins and reaches out to drag you closer by your stool, causing you to flail for a hot second as you lose your balance. The Yonko saves you from the close fall by wrapping his arm around your waist, "Oopse," he says with that smug grin, and again, you want to wipe it off his pretty face with your fist. You can feel his joy and playfulness over the bond you share with him.

"Insufferable," you grumble lowly. You shift in your seat just to feel how tightly he holds you, and the longer you stay, the more you feel that freedom slips further and further away. You have run from this your entire life, and in one fell swoop, your fate had been sealed by walking into the wrong tavern.

"Can't help myself, Baby," Shanks says, and you can feel his joy and giddiness at you accepting your place at his side. Maybe not fully, but he could tell that you didn't plan on running anymore. His arm tightens around your waist, and Shanks leans in to drop a kiss on the top of your head, "I wanna know everything about you."

You huff through your nose, eyes rolling to the heavens, and when they come back down, they settle on Shanks, who looks eager just to be near you. You suppose his open affection would be something you'd need to get used to.

"Finnnee," you draw out and then tip up the remainder of your drink, "But you are buying the rest of the night," like hell would you spend what little money you had if your soul mate was here. You would happily let him pick that up for you.

"I think I can handle that. Pick your poison, Baby," he says easily, and hours later, you find out that the redhead was serious about wanting to know everything about you. Shanks had asked you every question under the sun, to the point that you had snapped at him to be silent for two seconds just so you could take a breather and think. This man was overwhelming in every way possible, and it made you wonder why fate decided the two of you belonged together. However, for all your dislike and disgust for soul mates, you couldn't deny that yours wasn't a bad one.

"Alright, that's enough. You're a sponge, aren't ya, Sweetheart?" Shanks says, and you blink up at him, vision a little swimmy. Huh, guess you had drank more than what you thought.

Shanks stands and steadies his soul mate when you seem to sway to the side. He gently pulls you off the stool and laces his hand with one of your own, "I think it's time we got back to the ship," he says and makes sure to keep his voice clear. The Yonko didn't want you to think that he had kidnapped you or something. He watches your vision sharpen as you process what he said.

You swallow harshly, hand clenching around his own and your free hand tangling in his dark cloak. Fuck. You weren't ready. How were you supposed to be there for someone else when you could hardly be there for yourself? This man was so strong and you were so weak in comparison it was pathetic.

Before you could spiral further, Shanks grabbed your attention by tugging you into his chest and kissing the top of your head just as softly as he did earlier. He could feel your fear and anxiety flowing between the two of you, and it made his heart ache that you were so fearful of something so good.

"Don't worry. We'll take this one step at a time,_ " he says your name again, and you feel yourself relax just a bit. He says it like it's the most important thing in the world, and maybe it is to him. He grins at you when you calm down and pulls away, but keeps his hand tangled with your own, "Now let's go. I wanna show you my ship. We've got a lot to catch up on."

Shanks pulls you out of the tavern and down to the harbor, and you have no choice but to follow behind him, completely forgetting your now dry coat left hanging by the door.

#fanfic #one piece #reader insert #red haired shanks #shanks #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #angst #possessive shanks #soulmate au #opla shanks #phantom pain

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mvybanks · 1 year

Text

THE DEAL - chapter three

a/n: i’m so in love with this rafe, i could write about him for hours so i hope you guys like this! i’ve got so many ideas for the next chapters!!! (+ i realized this is going to be a long ass series so bear with me)

warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, some angst, cheating (i forgot that that’s the main warning of the series), NSFW, thigh riding, innocence kink (if you squint), lmk if i forgot something!

word count: 6.9k (…i’m sorry)

pairing: frat!rafe x innocent friend!reader

nav the deal masterlist

add yourself to my taglist <3

add yourself to my rafe taglist <3 (if you want to be added only to the taglist of series you can specify it in the end note of the form!)

—

You knew about Rafe Cameron’s reputation. Who didn’t? You were sure he had flirted with any woman with a pulse on campus, let alone the long line of hookups he’d had. It wasn’t a secret, which was why you attempted to push him away, to keep him out of reach except for the deal that you had both agreed on. No emotions, no feelings, nothing at all.

And yet, there you were, sitting on the kitchen counter of the Cocoa Corner, eating ice cream from the container with a big spoon as the frustrating, and too handsome for his own good, man did the same. It was late, you had already closed the shop for the night and were waiting for your signature chocolate chip cookies to finish baking. Rafe had insisted on staying with you, not wanting to leave you all alone, or perhaps it was because he enjoyed your company, but those were words he dreaded to confess to you.

You were sitting in front of each other, your knees were brushing as you both took big spoonfuls from the small tub of ice cream between you.

“Alright, tell me about you a little,” you encouraged, breaking the comfortable silence of the room. You couldn’t lie to yourself about how much you wanted to know him; was he really a jerk or had you judged him by the rumors about him?

He shrugged, “Not much there to say.”

“C’mon, Cameron. Give me something,” you almost pleaded, although you didn’t miss the smirk on his lips at your words; you rolled your eyes playfully, the hint of a grin hiding behind your false annoyance. “Oh shut up, you know what I mean.”

He sighed pensively and adjusted himself on his seat.

“Well, I have two little sisters, who I love very much.”

That was something you definitely didn’t know, was he a good brother? And why the hell were you so interested in knowing that?

You smiled sweetly. “Go on.”

He grinned back at you, melting you with one look. “I might be overly protective of them, but don’t tell them I admitted to that. I was kinda popular back in the Outer Banks, mostly because of my father’s status; he’s always been a big shot there. Anyway, I don’t really have many good memories of the island or of my father, to be honest.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you wanted to lean towards him and hug him. Maybe he wasn’t what you thought at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, no one does. I don’t talk about my family a lot.”

He tried not to ramble on, he didn’t want to annoy you, after all he was sure you didn’t care about him. You probably asked just to be polite, right? It was impossible you actually wanted to know about him.

“Why’s that?”

His head almost shot up at your question. It was a genuine question, your eyes understanding and full of curiosity, not a bit of malice was hidden behind them and it was like a breath of fresh air for him. You made him feel like he could talk about that with you, like he could’ve told you everything and you would’ve never judged him for it.

“It’s complicated. I’ve never had a good relationship with my family, especially my father. I mean, once my sisters were born, they were his whole world, I became just another child to look after. He always tried to make sure I got the best grades so I could take over the family business but he never really tried to bond with me.” He threw his head on the wall behind him; that was the first time he had been able to say all that out loud and you were still listening to him, encouraging him to keep talking as you gazed at his perfect features illuminated by the dim light of the shop. “I love my sisters, it’s not their fault our dad treats us differently. I actually miss them a lot.”

“Is that why you decided to work?”

Damn it, why did you have to be so easy to talk to?

“Yes and no. Uhm…let’s just say I didn’t use our money wisely and my dad got mad so he cut me off, said that I needed to work and understand how real life works.” He still remembered the words that his father had told him that day.

“Oh. What about your mom? Didn’t she say anything?”

You took a spoonful of ice cream and brought it to your lips nonchalantly, waiting for his answer as he played with the ring on his forefinger.

“She died when I was nine.”

The utensil in your hand almost dropped on the floor.

Shit.

“Oh God, Rafe, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-“

Smiling at you, he interrupted you, “Hey, don’t stress it. I’m okay. I’m glad I at least got to know her.”

Instinctively, you let your hand fall on his knee, bringing his attention to your soft and gentle touch. You shared a look, one that neither of you knew how to read and yet it still felt like you were telling each other a secret that only you two knew what it was.

“I bet she was an amazing woman.”

Without thinking about it twice, he grabbed the hand that was resting on his knee and rubbed the back of it with his thumb as he looked away from you. “She was. And yeah, she would have never let him do that. You know, she used to tuck me in bed every night with a lullaby and most of the time she would fall asleep with me. I remember how much she loved to make cookies for me and my dad couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t let the housemaid do that instead, but she insisted on doing it herself because she was the only one who knew how I liked them.”

When his eyes came back to stare at you, your gaze was already on him and, for some reason, it made him nervous. He shook his head, “Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No!” you stopped him, “you aren’t! Keep talking about her.”

He raised his eyebrows, “I’m not annoying you?”

“Not at all.”

No one had ever made him feel so safe and vulnerable; he wanted to share everything with you and he knew you would’ve listened to him with a smile on your face the whole time. And so he did.

You kept talking and talking, enjoying the soft chuckles and words that lingered in the air. The dark night made you lower your voices and it felt comforting, familiar, just two people getting to know each other.

“And you?” He finally asked.

You tilted your head to the side, “What about me?”

“I want to know about you, too.”

You were close to blushing; when had this man started to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush? Except, you didn’t have a crush. He was your friend. Rafe Cameron was slowly becoming a good friend and you were okay with that.

“You don’t, you just feel like you have to ask me.”

He all but groaned in frustration. “Why do you think I’m such a jerk? You really believe I don’t wanna know about you? I could listen to you talk for hours and I still wouldn’t get tired of you.” Your eyes widened at his confession, but the shock didn’t last long, quickly replaced by a teasing smile. He closed his eyes for a second and cursed himself for what he had accidentally told you. “You’re gonna make fun of me for this for a long time, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you said smiling wickedly.

You told him about your family and your relationship with your parents, just like he had before. He listened to you, attentively, nodding his head and asking questions from time to time. He was obviously interested in what you had to say and it took you by surprise; you truly had judged him too quickly, nonetheless you were glad that you had, because it brought you closer.

Rafe was laughing loudly at this one particular adventure you were describing to him, during which you had made a fool out of you but, luckily, you knew how to make fun of yourself. He gave you that big grin of his, perfect, white teeth showing as the sweet sound of his chuckle filled the air. You gawked at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, how his eyes shined when they fell on your face, and how they crinkled when he smiled widely.

“You’re staring, doll.”

His words brought you out of your trance and you finally realized where you were and what you were doing. He was teasing you, you knew that, but God how much you hated him when he was right.

“You wish, Cameron.”

And there it was again, Rafe Cameron’s signature smirk, the one that could’ve made anyone’s legs feel like jelly.

Right when his lips were about to part to give you another remark of his, the beeping coming from the kitchen oven brought you two back to the real world. That was why you were both there after all, not to talk and laugh together.

You raised from your sit, jumping down the counter and reaching for a pair of mitts.“Alright, are you ready to taste the best cookies the Cocoa Corner has ever seen?”

“Bring it on.”

You placed the tray of the scolding hot goods on the surface of the counter before closing the oven and taking your mitts off as you spoke to him, “We have to wait, though. They’re too-“

“SHIT!”

You whipped your head towards the yelp you had heard, coming from the man that was using the faucet of the kitchen to pour cold water on his now bruised tongue.

“I just took them out of the oven, Rafe!”

“Thorry!”

The laugh you let out was hilarious even to him, and although he felt like his tongue was on fire, he believed he would’ve done it again if it meant he got to listen to that beautiful and satisfying sound one more time.

You placed a hand on his back, soothingly. “C’mon, let me see, you idiot.”

He turned to you with his tongue sticking out of his mouth and you chuckled again. Your eyes inspected the burn, making sure it was just that, when you realized how close you were standing to him.

“You know,” he mumbled, “a kith would make this all better.”

“Shut up!” you snorted as you slightly pushed him away by putting a hand on his chest.

He chuckled and closed the new distance between you, entranced by the way you widely smiled up at him. When a strand of hair fell from behind your ear, he was quick to put it back, holding your jaw in the palm of his hand in the process. His thumb gently brushed against your cheekbone and you had to stop yourself from closing your eyes at the contact.

“Y/n?”

Your name falling from his lips, slowly, hushed, a secret between you, it made your skin buzz and your body feel like it was on fire.

“Yeah?” you managed to croak out.

“Can I-“ his words were cut off by a blinding light that was coming from the window and was shining inside the shop.

You cleared your throat. “That must be Matt.”

Rafe took a step back and pushed his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, “right.”

“What were you about to say?”

He shook his head, “nothing important. You can go.”

Biting down your bottom lip and turning towards the window, you looked back at him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll clean this up,” he shrugged, “just go.”

You took your apron off and grabbed your purse and coat from the employers’ rack before walking towards the front door. Your hand was close to the handle when you turned around and quickly strode to him.

He knitted his eyebrows at the sudden change of your mind. You wordlessly placed a hand on his neck, forcing him to bend down, and softly kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight, Rafe.”

His hand itched to grab you and make you breathless right then and there, instead he decided on mumbling back, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

His eyes followed your figure as you stepped out of the building and was met by your boyfriend who wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pecked your lips.

When had his jaw began to clench? And why was there a weird and unsettling feeling at the pit of his stomach at the sight?

He decided to shake the feeling off and started closing the place, not before he stole another cookie to see if you were right about them being the best cookies that the bakery had ever seen. The first bite was still warm but not as much as the one he’d had before and it gave him the chance to actually taste it.

He almost choked and had to hold back his tears as he took a second bite.

They tasted exactly like his mom’s.

—

The drive to your boyfriend’s place was silent, which made you weirdly uncomfortable, as if you needed to talk to fill it or it would’ve driven you insane. Except, neither of you spoke up, lost in your own thoughts.

Once you stepped inside his apartment, he motioned for you to sit down on the couch while he made you drinks. You couldn’t really focus on anything but the last words you had shared with Rafe.

What was he about to say? It was important, you were sure of it. His low and deep tone was enough for you to know that it mustn’t have been silly. He was so close, his touch had sent a thousand of sparks through your body and it was so new and yet familiar.

Did he want to kiss you?

“Wanna listen to some music, babe?” Matt asked as he entered the living room with two glasses in his hands.

‘Babe.’ No ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart.’ You called your best friend ‘babe’, why couldn’t he have given you a different nickname?

“Sure,” you smiled.

You had to stop thinking about him. He wasn’t there, was he? He didn’t care about you other than a friend and you were glad if he even considered you as such. Your boyfriend was perfect, he really was, and he was sweet and gentle, a real gentleman.

Then why the hell was Rafe’s touch still lingering on your mind?

Matt leaned closer to you and held your face in one hand, but it didn’t make your stomach fill with butterflies, your body wasn’t aching for his touch. He finally kissed your lips and you decided to use everything you had learned from Rafe days prior.

Your hands ran through his hair and you hated yourself for thinking about how it wasn’t as good as scratching the man on your mind’s scalp. Slowly going lower, your fingers touched his covered chest, not even causing one reaction from him.

Your mind couldn’t stop wondering why Rafe had gone mad over the same kind of touch, why he had become insatiable after that, as if your hands on his body was all he could think about, while Matthew seemed completely unfazed.

You were tired; that’s what it was. You weren’t in the mood and the lack of response from your boyfriend wasn’t helping you either. Placing your palm against his chest, you pushed him away and he took the liberty to start kissing your neck, probably thinking you just needed some air.

Your mind was filled with the images of one person and one person only and it was ruining the moment. His kisses had felt different; when he had made out with you, he was doing everything for you and not to you, completely distant from what the curly haired man beside you was doing then.

“Matt, wait,” you mumbled, pushing his head away, “I don’t feel like it.”

He pulled away and huffed before throwing his head back on the headrest of the couch. You swore you saw him rolling his eyes in annoyance, causing tears to prick at your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered and, fumbling with the bottom of your shirt, continued, “can you take me home? I’m tired.”

He slightly lifted his hips from the couch and grabbed his phone from his back pocket, “I’ll call you an Uber, it’s getting late.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Never had he ever treated like that. Had you made him mad or was he that exhausted that he couldn’t have taken you home?

—

You weren’t the only person asking herself questions all night long; Rafe’s mind was going crazy. You were running through his head constantly, never giving him a break, and he didn’t even want one.

His hands were aching to have you under him again, to touch you, to hear your moans one more time, to have your lips on his. The thought of someone else doing the same thing to you was enough to make his insides churn and his chest squeeze.

He couldn’t bare the image he had in his head of your boyfriend’s hands touching your skin, the same one he had touched and caressed, that he had kissed. God, what wouldn’t he have given to press his mouth against your skin in that moment.

When morning came and he saw you at work, his actions began having a mind of their own and lead him to you with determination.

“Good morning,” he smiled and you did the same. “Can I talk to you real quick?”

Knitting your eyebrows together in confusion, you nodded, “Of course.”

He pulled you inside your boss’ office, knowing that she was absent for the day, and closed the door behind him. You sat on her desk, your feet still on the ground as you looked at him expectantly.

“There’s a slight change of plans.”

“What?”

He sighed while nervously scratching at his nonexistent stubble, “I won’t be here for the rest of the week. I have some stuff to take care of so if you need my help, it’s gotta be today.”

It wasn’t totally a lie. It was true, he was leaving town for almost a week for his father had asked him to come home and, although he didn’t want to, he still missed his sisters and couldn’t deny the fact that he was impatiently waiting to see them again, therefore he had agreed.

“Oh. Like…tonight? Are you sure? Maybe we can see each other tomorrow-“

“Yup, tonight,” he interrupted you, “I’m busy tomorrow and I don’t want anything left undone before I have to go.”

That was a lie. He needed you. He didn’t care how or where, but he had to have you and he couldn’t have waited anymore.

“Okay,” you said, unsure.

“That is if you still need m-“

“I do.”

A smirk etched onto his mouth at your fast reply and you wanted to facepalm yourself at your eagerness. Things had been so bad with your boyfriend the day before that you believed you still needed his help, or perhaps it wasn’t his aid that you craved so much.

“Stop doing that,” you groaned.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like that!”

He took a step closer, taunting you, “Like what?”

“Like you want to eat me or something,” you muttered.

Oh, how true were those words. He didn’t know how to explain to you that he wanted to do just that, especially since he hadn’t been able to stop looking at your legs, exposed by your short skirt.

Licking his lips and gazing down at you, he whispered, “See you tonight, doll.” His hand lingered on your thigh, “And don’t change into something else. I like your skirt.”

He pressed a kiss on your cheek before leaving you a flustered mess in the empty room; what the hell had just happened?

—

It was barely seven o’ clock when you found yourself standing in Rafe’s room again. You felt bolder than the previous time, maybe it was because you already knew you weren’t going to leave the building unsatisfied or embarrassed; flustered? Sure, but never out of place.

The moment he had closed the door behind you, he pounced on you, claiming your mouth with need, as if he had waited his whole life for that kiss. He was moaning against your lips, focusing on the way your hands danced around his body to touch him.

When he realized you were both running out of air, he began kissing your neck and holding you close as you scraped his scalp and enjoyed the way he groaned at each brush of your fingers.

You couldn’t help but notice the difference with the way Rafe kissed your skin and the way Matt did.

He nipped at your exposed neck, one arm wrapped around your middle and the other went down, his fingers gripping the curve of your ass. Once his tongue made its way to a certain spot, causing you to almost fall to your knees at the sensitivity, he smirked and began sucking right there as his pants got tighter at the sound of your heavy breaths.

“Rafe…” you moaned.

He kissed up your neck to look back at your face and rested his forehead on yours. “Everything okay?” he exhaled.

You nodded and closed your eyes as you tried to regain your breath from the amount of things he had just been able to make you feel in less than fifteen minutes.

He held your face in one hand and forced you to reopen your eyes, looking right up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Pecking your lips, he took your hand in his and led you to his bed. He sat on the edge and made you stand in between his legs while his hands stroked up and down your thighs, exposed by the skirt you were wearing, just like he had asked.

“Can you take your panties off for me, sweetheart?” he questioned as he gazed up at you.

You swallowed thickly; you didn’t know if you were wishing you had heard him wrong or right. “W-what?”

“I have an idea in mind for today’s little session, if that’s okay with you.”

His touch brought you comfort, the way he rubbed his thumbs on the back of your legs, how he sweetly left a quick peck on your stomach to remind you he was going to be gentle and you couldn’t help but feel safe.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of your underwear and slowly brought them down until they pooled at your feet. He never took his eyes off your face as you kicked the garment somewhere in the room and it made a fire ignite inside you.

“C’mere,” he purred, aiding you with sitting on his thigh, your legs on either side of it.

“What does this have to do with bringing pleasure to someone else?” You whispered for the feeling of the cotton of his sweatpants pressing right against your bare cunt was already making you a nervous mess.

He gently pushed a strand of hair out of your face and forced you to stare him in the eyes, “Do you trust me?”

The low and husky sound of his tone caused you to clench around nothing and you had to nod at his words, not really trusting your voice in that moment. He tsked and slowly shook his head, “I need words, doll.”

You swallowed thickly as you kept eye contact, “I trust you.”

He placed his forehead against yours and both of his hands fell on your hips, keeping you steady on his thigh.

“Then let me make you feel good, yeah?”

He began to move your body back and forth and a wet spot, caused by your arousal, was already visible on his sweatpants.

He was holding himself back from taking you right then and there as the sound of your gasps and whimpers of pleasures filled his ears; but this was about you and he wanted to see you fall apart from his touch only.

His lips started leaving soft kisses down your neck until they reached, once more, that spot that he had already claimed as his and he sucked on it, causing you to hold his head with one hand and rest the other on his shoulder to balance yourself. When a moan of his name left your swollen lips, he couldn’t help himself from groaning against your skin.

The moment he raised his head from your neck and looked at your unfocused eyes and parted lips, everything in him ached for more, to give you more, to see more, to be more.

“Just like that, angel,” he mumbled in your ear, the new nickname sending goosebumps all over your skin; “such a good girl.”

His hands caressed the exposed skin of your thighs and made their way up your skirt until they rested on your naked behind, squeezing it gently as he helped your movements. When the pleasure became too much, your head fell on his shoulder, whining in his ear and making him harder than he had ever been in his whole life. Your hips never stopped moving back and forth, faster and harder, when with one hand he grabbed your hair and forced you to raise your head; he smashed his lips against yours and thrusted his tongue in your mouth, exploring it and basking in the gasps that left your lips.

Pulling away from your inviting mouth, he almost came untouched at the sound of your whine caused by the loss of his lips. He placed two fingers on your bottom lip and you unconsciously gave him access to your mouth, your mind hazy from the pleasure.

“Suck my fingers for me,” he all but growled.

You did as he asked, sucking and licking his digits while your hands wrapped around his wrist to keep him from pulling away. Rafe gawked at you, the way you were basically deepthroating his fingers with half-lidded eyes, gazing at him with that innocent look, made him selfishly wish they were something else. His head was filled with mental pictures of you on your knees for him, sucking his cock just like you were doing his fingers, those fuck me eyes staring right into his soul as you make him feel good. However, it was about your pleasure in that moment, not his, and he was dying to see you come undone on top of him. He needed it like water in the desert and he had never felt so thirsty in his whole life.

The thought that he was the one that was making you feel good, that those sounds that were leaving your plumped lips were because of him, that the reason why you would come back home all fucked out was him, and not that tool of your boyfriend, was enough to make him officially insane.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a string of your saliva still connecting you to them, and brought them down to your exposed cunt. Finally, he was touching you, slowly rubbing your puffy clit and helping you see stars thanks to his experienced touch. He stopped himself from moaning at the feeling of your bare pussy under the pads of his fingers and focused on tracing circles on your bundle of nerves. Smirking at the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, he claimed your mouth again.

When his leg began bouncing up and down, bringing you even more pleasure, you couldn’t keep it in anymore, moaning his name in his mouth as you came all over his covered thigh. You pulled away from him to take deep breaths as your cunt kept clenching around nothing and your whole body begged to be touched by him.

He placed his lips on the corners of your mouth, then your cheek, until they reached your ear. “Did that feel good, doll?” he asked cockily, knowing full well that you were panting and still lazily grinding against him for you craved that high again.

Yet, as much as you didn’t want to show him, you couldn’t hide the fact that you were a trembling mess on his lap. “‘s good,” you tried to choke out before burying yourself in the crook of his neck in exhaustion.

He hummed when you left a kiss on his exposed skin, without even realizing what you were doing. “Made such a big mess on my pants, didn’t you?”

“‘m sorry,” you knew your cheeks had to be beet red from the embarrassment.

He brushed some hair out of your face, caressing your head in the process, “don’t apologize. It was hot.”

With one hand, he brought one leg on his other side, making you sit right on the bulge in his pants with both of his palms grabbing the naked skin of your thighs. You all but gasped at the feeling of his covered, hard cock pressing right against you and he chuckled lowly at your reaction.

“Maybe it was a little bit too hot,” he continued.

You bit your bottom lip in thought, thankful that your face was still hidden in his neck; “do you want me to help?”

His eyes widened at your words, although he couldn’t lie that it wasn’t the only thought on his mind at the moment. The innocence laced in your tone could’ve made him burst without a touch and the thought alone of having even just your hand around him was making him even harder. But then again, it was about you right then, not him, it was always about you.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything,” he cooed, his hand on your head as his fingers brushed through your hair.

You snuggled closer into him, enjoying his warmth, his arms around you, his touch, him.

“You sure?”

He hummed and kissed the side of your head, such a simple act, but it caused thousands of butterflies come alive inside your stomach; was that still just desire?

The hand that wasn’t in your hair grabbed the plush of your bare thigh, sliding up to your ass until it fell on your hip and circled around your waist to keep your body pressed against his as he hugged you tightly.

“Are you okay, angel?”

You nodded in his neck and slid your hands from his shoulders to his midsection, wrapping your arms around him. He sighed and closed his eyes in blissful peace before he reopened them and the realization hit him: he didn’t want you to do anything in return, he only needed you.

Fuck.

That was nothing, right? He was your friend and he cared about you, that’s all it was. So what if he wanted to make sure you were okay? Or if he had this inexplicable need of hugging you close to him and to have you in his arms? And what if he felt like he had to protect you, to keep you safe in his embrace? That’s what friends do.

Friends. Really good ones.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that; seconds, minutes, hours probably. The only thing you knew was that neither of you seemed to care, drowning in each other’s arms. You kissed his shoulder or the side of his neck from time to time, his arms tightening around you each time, and he pressed his lips against your forehead in return, while his hands stroked the naked skin of your thighs or simply wrapped around you.

He breathed you in and, God knows why, he felt protected. After the talk you’d had the day before, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, your laugh, your smile, your interest in him, the way your eyes showed him that you cared about him and you didn’t want anything in return. He wasn’t only being impatient about having you a trembling mess for him, he had this strong need to hold you because he knew it would’ve made all of his problems go away.

And it did.

He had never felt like this about anyone and it scared him. What was he supposed to do? You had a boyfriend and, as much as he hated to admit that, he sounded like he was good for you, he was sure that he treated you better than Rafe ever could have, that he knew exactly what you needed to be happy, and Rafe wasn’t going to take that away from you. His weren’t feelings, it was just him wanting what he couldn’t have; that’s what he tried to convince himself of.

“Hey,” you finally spoke up, although the silence was so peaceful you were about to fall asleep right there on his lap. “It’s getting late.”

No, it wasn’t. You could’ve stayed like that for the rest of your life.

“Mh, I’ll take you home.”

You raised your head from the beautiful heaven it had been resting on to stare at him. “Oh. You don’t have to. I can just-“

“Bullshit,” he chuckled, as if it had been the most obvious thing in the universe, “I’ve got a car and a license, I’m not letting you go home all alone so late at night.”

And so you left the building with his arm around your shoulders, his sweatshirt covering your body as you both tried to ignore the stares from his housemates.

Sleeping had become optional for the both of you that night, especially for Rafe, who couldn’t get you out of his head. What had you done to him? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you in his arms? Why did he want you to sleep wrapped around him?

He had to do something. He hadn’t been with someone else in weeks, he just needed to see another woman, to touch someone who wasn’t you and everything would’ve gone back to normal, right?

When two days after, a friday, a party was rumored to be thrown at the Delta Mu house, he was thrilled. Finally he had a chance to hook up with another girl. That was exactly what he wanted.

One hundred percent.

You, on the other hand, had never been more confused in your whole life.

No one had ever held you the way Rafe had done that night. He cherished you, he was careful of your feelings, of what you wanted, of you. He had gotten really good at his job, or anyway, better than he was before, so what was the point of prolonging your time alone together? No one was forcing him.

Unless he craved it just as much as you did.

Did he?

Did you?

—

Your boyfriend and your best friend had dragged you to that party, you didn’t feel like going. Everyone had seen you two days prior under Rafe Cameron’s arm and you really didn’t want to give them reasons to talk about you. But there you were, at the Delta Mu party and unconsciously looking for him.

Had that party been the reason why he said he was busy? Or was he actually doing something more important?

You took a sip of your drink and smiled at some familiar faces, trying to enjoy the music, the free alcohol and forget about what you had done the last time you had been in that place. And your strategy seemed to work, until your eyes landed on a scene you wished you had never had to see.

Rafe was sitting on the couch, a girl on his lap, the same way you had been days prior, as they made out like no one was around them. He seemed rigid, stuck in one position, while the girl didn’t stop her grinding against his crotch and it made you feel like the biggest idiot of the century.

Of course the mighty Rafe Cameron didn’t give a fuck about you or about your feelings, he was a player, always had been and always would be. That was why you hated guys like him, they made you feel special and then leave you when someone else came along.

Matthew was different. He wanted one person for the rest of his life and that was what you needed in your life: stability. Rafe couldn’t have given you that.

Why did you have to work with him of all people? You were glad his training was almost done and after that, he was out on his own, even though he would’ve still continued working with you. You deserved a break from him, he was too much, the most confusing man you had ever met. He was frustrating, irritating, impossible to reason with, to deal with.

Then why were your eyes burning at the sight of him with another woman?

—

“Morning, doll,” Rafe greeted with a smirk on his face as he entered the Cocoa Corner, less than twelve hours after you had been met with the sight of him eating a girl’s face.

He was wearing black sunglasses, probably more expensive than your whole wardrobe, a buttoned up shirt and dress pants and you hated how much handsome he looked.

“Weren’t you supposed to leave town today, Cameron?”

You turned around and resumed what you were doing, cleaning the coffee machine while he looked at you with a frown on his face.

“Yeah,” he admitted, uncertain, as he put the sunglasses on his head, “I wanted to say bye.”

“Bye.”

“What’s with the cold treatment all of a sudden?” he finally inquired as he circled the counter to stand behind you.

He grabbed your arm, forcing you to give him your attention.

“I’m trying to work.”

“And I’m trying to talk to you.”

His eyes stared right into yours and tried to understand you, to get what was going on in your head, but you didn’t give in.

If he wanted to play games, then that was what you were going to do from then.

You tried to shrug his hand off of you, “Are you going let me work? Some of us survive off of this, you know.”

He raised one eyebrow; when had you become so cold again?

“Tell me what’s going on and I’ll let you go.”

“Damn it, Cameron! Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“Just tell me what I did and I’ll fix it, please.”

He was pleading. He was freaking pleading. You hated him, so much sometimes it consumed you. It was tearing you from the inside, and it was all just hatred.

“I don’t need your to fix it!” you snapped. “Leave me alone. I’m sure there are plenty of girls who are dying to be in my place, aren’t there?”

“Doesn’t mean I want them to.”

“Does it? Are you sure about that?” you challenged him, a look he had never seen in your eyes before burning in the stare you were giving him.

Oh.

“Were you at the party last night?”

Finally, he let go of your arm and you were able to cross both of them on your chest in annoyance. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He licked his lips and took his eyes off of you for a second before they fell back on your angry expression. “Because I think you saw me and I believe you’re doing this little act here because you’re jealous.”

You scoffed, incredulous at what he was saying. As if you could’ve been jealous of him.

“Keep dreaming, Cameron.”

“So you’re not jealous?”

“Why would I be?”

He nodded his head in thought and took a step closer to where you were standing. “Then you don’t mind if I hook up with someone tonight, right?”

“You can do whatever you want, Cameron; I don’t care,” you lied and it was not a secret to either of you.

He took another step, ending up caging you in between his body and the side counter, his arms on either side of you as he bent his head to close the distance between you.

“I didn’t say that’s what I want,” he exhaled, “What I want is way far from what I do.”

You gained that last bit of courage you had left to make eye contact as you spoke your next words, “Then what do you want?”

His lips had gotten too near to yours, dangerously close and, although it wasn’t the first time, the lack of distance felt different, heavier, more important. His nose brushed against yours as he dipped his head, almost touching your mouth, you could feel his heavy breaths fanning out on your slightly parted lips, so inviting he felt like he would’ve died if he hadn’t kissed them right that second.

“Hey! You two!” your boss’ voice pulled you apart, close to jumping far from each other at the startling sound. “Go back to work!”

“Sorry, May!”

“Yeah, sorry!” Rafe added.

She pointed at him with a questioning look. “Aren’t you supposed to be driving to your family emergency?”

“He was just going,” you interjected as you attempted at pushing him out of the building.

“And by the way, nothing is gonna happen with anyone tonight. I’m really going only for my family, no need to be jealous,” he tried to say while you kept kicking him out.

“See if I care.”

“But you do,” he turned to you, “You might lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. I’ll see you in a week, doll,” he spoke, taking your hand in his before walking away.

“Bye, Rafe,” you whispered when he had already left and your eyes fell on the ring he had placed in your palm when he was holding it.

He neglected to tell you that the reason why you had no reason to be jealous was because he had found out that he wasn’t able to touch another woman without thinking of you and no one could’ve compared.

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cillivnz · 3 months

Text

THE OTHER WOMAN [anakin skywalker]

pairing. ANAKIN SKYWALKER x JEDI!READER

trope. unrequited love, ‘the other woman’.

word count. 1.6k

warnings. 18+. f!reader, cursing, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, heavy angst, rough sex, no aftercare, degradation, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, size kink, tummy bulge, creampies, crying, unrequited pining, clit-play, sadism & masochism, emotionally vulnerable reader and unavailable anakin.

a/n. personal experiences inspired this. could possibly be the prologue to a series, depends on reception. single quotes ‘’ indicate telepathic communication. descriptions are not intended to offend, just to depict a state of vulnerability.

“HIT ME!” MOANED THE MASOCHIST, “NO,” SNEERED THE SADIST.

Love’s a silly little thing that’s made Saints do questionable things, so how were you expected to be any different as a Jedi with tainted ethics? Except, the sole purpose of being one— a Jedi, is to be damn near a Saint. Well, you’re near one, now.

With your face buried in his sheets, and his cock buried inside you.

“Ani— fuck,” you sighed in fulfilment.

this was home, homely; beneath him every night after a long day of you awaiting the sight of him in the Temple, and for him, distracting himself by killing all evil and bottling up all thoughts of his lost love.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to call me that?” You flinched at the smack landing on your ass cheek. The hopes of him rubbing the supple flesh to soothe the pain went in vain.

The sole reason for the success of your “relationship” or even why Anakin agreed to your pathetic advances in the first place was because you were symbiotic, yin and yang of a very wicked balance.

HE LIKED INFLICTING PAIN, YOU LIKED BEING INFLICTED UPON.

When Padmé Amidala left the Coruscant for Naboo, abandoning her Ani with a broken heart, you volunteered to pick the pieces.

“ANAKIN, TALK TO ME,” you urged, clutching onto his onyx Jedi robes. His jaw clenched, an eyebrow irking at your audacious hand placement.

“Leave me alone,” he pushed himself away from you, but you were adamant as ever.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Your gut churned out a warning, intituition telling you you’re digging a hole that’s bound to be deeper than the bond you’ve formed with Anakin Skywalker over the decade of knowing him— from Slave to Saviour of the galaxies.

His head whipped towards you, his broad back tensing as he turned threateningly slowly towards you.

“I can,” you were unsure of what you were going to propose— hell, you were unsure of what you were even going to say.

‘I can make you forget her.’

He sneered, you squirmed.

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart.”

First pet name Anakin Skywalker learned to use, coincidentally, too, for you. He had heard a sleazy man on Tattooine say it to his mother. For the longest time, he had thought of it to be vulgarity, until little Skywalker used it for you in front of Obi-wan and was quick to learn that it expresses endearment, not disdain.

After ten years he calls you ‘sweetheart’, and you knew better than to blush over it, but you were flushed, anyway.

You strip yourself bare; physically and egotistically. You lay yourself bare for your first love to unravel, even if there wasn’t much to remove physically; you were laying your soul bare to him, for him.

Mere virgin, inexperienced and shielded. Jaded just from communicating with two-timers, but so, so willing to bend over backwards and break your back for Anakin Skywalker’s mercurial self and pretty face.

While he sees your naked flesh on display for him, you see the first emotion on Anakin’s face that was not indignation towards you. Desire. He desired you, but the speed at which he masked his emotions proved to you that it wasn’t half of what he felt for her.

“You have no idea what you’re setting yourself up for.” He grabbed your chin with his metallic arm, one you’ve admired for the valour that gave it to him and one you’ve shamelessly fantasised about.

One snap was all it would’ve taken for him to break you in half with that faux robotic limb, but Anakin wouldn’t do that. Not just yet.

“What makes you think you can compare to her?”

“She is the kindest, strongest, most generous and most beautiful woman in the galaxy. What makes you think you can compare?”

What really makes you think you can compare?

You’ve been selfish, cursing the entirety of their relationship, which was as one-sided as your love for him.

You’ve been impatient, reckless and impulsive, and it’s evident in your performance as a Jedi.

You can’t even fulfil your sole purpose because, by Maker, he’s clouded your mind with himself and left little room for rationality.

‘I can try,’ you think, and of course he’d read it. ‘To fill the void.’

‘Let me in, please.’

‘Please let me try.’

“Bend over, ass up, face down.”

That’s how you two started, and how you persist.

He insists on fucking you in the same position, same force and speed of his thrusts, every night.

You know better than to ask for more. Maker’s giving you more than you deserve, isn’t it? Gratitude has been a virtue of yours, so you stick to it.

Even if there are days when he doesn’t show up to your room, knock curtly thrice before barging in to find you stripped and on your knees for him, you still love him.

He’s forgiven, he’ll always be.

You take those days to forget him, to jump down the Tower instead of climbing further up the spiralling stairs of a love doomed before it blossomed.

Anakin Skywalker only brings despair with him, a fact even the Order knows now.

“An-ah!—Anakin, slow down!” You squealed, his thrusts never faltering.

He was taking out his frustration for the Maces of the Order onto you.

“Shut up and take it,” he grunted, going faster.

You were crying, a mere mess in his bed.

The tip of his cock was assaulting your g-spot, and it felt like a punch to the gut.

You felt him there, too, snaking a hand down to your tummy to feel the bulge of him going in and out of your tight channel.

He rubbed your clit vigorously; the swollen bundle of nerves had been begging for his attention, which, his balls slapping against it was sufficing, but the extra heed paid had you writhing in overstimulation.

You were sobbing, softly, but loud enough for him to hear over the sound of skin-on-skin slapping and his own haggard breath.

He pulled out, making you clench around just his tip. It was like your body was trying to keep him in.

“Can’t have me stay and can’t have me go,” he said under his breath. He spread your cunt with his hands, watching your abused hole leak your juices.

He eyed you for several moments, making you self-conscious as jolt away from him. He only spreads you further apart to spit into your hole.

Your body jerked away from him, but his metallic fingers were faster in being shoved inside of you.

The cold metal felt like ice to your hot insides, the juxtaposition of a sensation sending a shiver down your arched spine.

“Oh, you like this?” His human hand cupped your mound. “Is cock too much for your little pussy to handle?” He mocked, but you sensed a tinge of amusement underlying his tone.

“You have one purpose, and you fail to meet it.” He pulled out his fingers, causing your head to snap back to look at him.

You see him seated on the bed, leisurely stroking his cock as if he has all the time in the world, no necessity for release while you ached to come undone.

‘I’ve given you more than she has.’

Anakin’s cock may be the biggest in this galaxy, but your pride’s bigger in every other.

His jaw clenched, but his cock twitched.

With one swift leap, he was on top of you— the predator atop his prey— pounced and ready to penetrate— eat you alive.

“Not a word out of you, y’hear?”

“Not. One. Word.”

He aligned the tip of his member with your tight entrance and forced his way in, fucking you dumb with merciless thrusts, just the way you wanted.

You were drooling, panting, screaming, moaning, crying, all while Anakin drove his hips into yours wordlessly.

The silence was eerie and scary, not even a grunt was sounded, and how you yearned to hear his groans of pleasure, knowing they were for you.

He then moaned, once again reading your mind with that impeccable bond of Force that Maker’s aligned your souls with, but your heart nearly dropped to your cunt when he said,

“Padmé, fuck.”

You clenched out of instinct, spinal cord taking over all senses while your brain was too weak, too fucked to react.

A normal person with self-respect would ask him to get the fuck out and never, ever come see you again, but you had ego, not the former, and the difference between the two is what’s allowing you to let him finish and go, like every other night, like a part of you would normalise this foreplay as long as you feel his touch— feel wanted by him.

When his seed tainted your walls once more, you sighed in relief. You couldn’t bear to look at him with tearful eyes.

You hear him shuffle into his robes, then silence, yet his presence was still felt.

You hear the doorknob twist, so you turn around to lie on your back, not expecting a lurking Anakin lingering by the doorframe. You peer at him through wet lashes, doe-eyes reduced to slits while you reciprocated the venom exuding out of Anakin for the first time towards him, clenching your jaw. Your chest huffed with forced respiration, drawing Anakin’s attention to your breasts.

It was then he used the force not to hear the string of curses flowing through your mind for him, but to talk to you, for the first time.

And for the first time he ever said,

‘If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t come to you.’

“Like” isn’t “love”,

But it is something—

‘—But you mean nothing to me, so your love is useless.’

‘And I won’t always be around as the other woman,’ you were going to go berserk.

But which one of you was lying, sneering sadist or moaning masochist?

main masterlist. more of Anakin. blog directory.

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klausysworld · 11 months

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Okayyy so i just had a idea and since you are amazinggggg with tvdu fan fiction, thought I might a request😅

Basically, yn is a wolf but for some reason or another, her puppy sized wolf is out of control and so whenever she gets emotional, she slowly starts transforming, like first she will get the ears and like the shift is slow but not painful anymore since it has been happening a lot and she just gets a headache.

Elena's gang except for Tyler and bonnie dislike her and Caroline doesn't have much of an opinion. She is usually a happy person since she is homeschooled so doesn't have to deal with any bullies or anything.

Klaus finds her with teary eyes and her wolf puppy ears out as she tries to stop herself from full on crying.

Klaus takes her in and cares for her and helps her control her wolf side so that her emotions don't control them. At this point, she loves her wolf form so much that Klaus has to scold her and treat her kinda like am actual naughty puppy and he even has a hard time keeping her in human form because she has learned that she can run off in her wolf form and not have to study

-✨

Tamed and trained

Y/n’s parents had always been worried about her. She wasn’t exactly normal, being a werewolf anyways was hard enough let alone a completely out of control one. They assumed there must have been some sort of mutation in the gene system or something similar which caused her to turn at any time, like how only few vampires were rippers and few witches were siphoners.

They had been to the Bennett’s who told them that this had only happened a very rare few times since the first werewolf was created and that she would learn control as she grew.

Of course their first fear was she would be picked on, misunderstood and seen as a monster, so they kept her inside. And then they worried that her werewolf anger would be 10x worse as instead of having emotions heightened on a full moon, hers are 24/7. But it turned out she showed nearly every emotion but anger. But the tears were the worst. As soon as they started falling they knew they needed to hide her asap. The ears would sprout from her head, then the tail and claws, the nose and paws, until she were howling her sorrows for the world to hear.

And gosh did she cry when she was little, always in a puddle of pity and fear of her own shadow.

He parents had pretty much given up with trying to control her. Just locking her in the house and telling her to be quiet while they went out and tried to live like normal people, pretend they didn’t have a daughter that the council would kill to obtain.

When Bonnie grew up they tried to convince her to spell Y/n but Bonnie refused when she saw the fluffy ears a big sad eyes looking back at her.

They tried to have Tyler help her when he broke his curse but he wasn’t sure what to do either other than bond over the experience of being in wolf form.

So she continued to hide inside, only getting out when her parents had gone away, most likely to get drunk and forget their worries.

She knew she was an inconvenience for them but the harder she tried to control herself, the worse it made her feel and then she ended up turning again. She didn’t know how to fix the cycle she was trapped within.

But on that day, her parents had gotten a little too angry at her. Called her a freak and a mistake causing her to run as far as she could on her human legs, praying to god that she wouldn’t turn halfway through a step.

She huddled up to the big willow tree besides the Mystic Park and kept their until dark. Her sniffles were the only sound heard as she wiped her eyes and cheeks.

Her knees dragged to her chest and she rest her chin on top of them as she kept her cries to a minimum, hiccuping as she tried to fully stop.

It was the sound that drew Klaus Mikaelson toward the park that night. His eyes squinted as he spotted a girl in the distance, two large and fluffed ears on her head which twitched very few seconds. His curiosity was peaked and so he approached the source of such sad sounds and crouched before her. His hand slowly touched her knee making her jolt and look up at him alarmed. Immediately smacking the top of her head to make her ears go away making him frown and grab onto her hands

“It’s alright love” he mumbled as she shook her head and tried to squirm out of his hold. He sighed and resorted to picking her up which made her cry again and him to panic. “No no no” he whispered, covering her mouth with his hand and his eyes widening when a tail curled up between her legs and little claws scratched at his arms. “Oh bloody hell” he muttered before speeding her to his home and getting her on the floor just as she turned entirely.

His brows shot up seeing her so small, running around like a lunatic and barking continuously. He blinked in surprise and slowly shut the front door, locking it and walking around the smashed vase and torn painting as she chewed at his brand new sofa cushions with her tail wagging so wildly that her whole body shook.

He made a gradual approach but the second she was in reach, she had darted up the stairs making him sigh and chase her through the house for the next 20 minutes. Having a little too much fun for an almighty hybrid as he tackled a small wolf to his kitchen floor and kept her firmly to his chest until eventually she turned back.

Asleep and completely naked against him. He cautiously lifted her up and brought her to his bed, not wanting her to run off while he slept.

He slipped his boxers up her legs and henley over her head, not without peeking at her lovely little body of course, and quickly stripping to his boxers before tugging the covers over the both and watching her from the other side of the bed. He kept an eye on her for as long as he stayed awake, until the steady beating of her heart sent him to sleep.

When he woke he was entirely on top of her, her big eyes looking up at him as he lifted his head to find her squished beneath him and shoving helplessly at his chest.

He kept quiet and in response so did she, swallowing thickly as she watched him observe her. She didn’t comment as his eyes lingered on her nipples that stood out against the soft material on his top, nor the way his tongue wetted his lips when he studied her legs.

“Do you do that a lot?” He asked just above a whisper when his eyes came back to hers and she nodded with a blush of embarrassment coating her cheeks.

“I don’t mean to” she uttered and he tilted his head ever so slightly

“I wouldn’t have thought you did” he murmured and she kept silent. He thought to himself for a moment before making an unklauslike decision “I think I’ll keep you love” he told her and she opened her mouth to speak but he was already talking again “no arguing, I’ll teach you to control yourself and we’ll see what happens from there okay?”

“But my mother and- and school! I learn at home, I can’t-“

“Do you know who I am love?” He cut her off and she turned her head

“Klaus?” She questioned, having heard of him before when her parents were researching, the mention of him from Tyler and the smell of both vampire and werewolf which twisted together when she lay under him.

“That’s right little wolf, Klaus, now I’ve been alive a very long time, I can teach you much better than any mother could. And besides, your mother would’ve found you before I had if she were worried” he waved it off and she frowned

“She will be…” she whispered and he watched in amazement again as the ears formed at her head. His hand automatically reached out to feel the soft fur against his skin making her lean into him. He could feel the smirk pulling at his face as he calmed her back down

“Oh you’re right love,” he began, seeing her brighten up a little bit in curiosity, “she will puppy, so how about I’ll handle it okay? She’ll let you come here, you want me to help you don’t you?” He manipulated and she immediately fell into it, nodding and laying still under him. Klaus couldn’t help but admire how she looked beneath him, her big round eyes and wolf ears still on display. If emotion was what brought this out in her, he could only imagine how she would howl if he treated her the way he desired.

But he would wait, he needed to get her under control at least a little so that she didn’t destroy his house and hurt herself in the meantime. He didn’t believe she would be able to hurt someone else, especially not purposely but he saw how she basically ran into walls without a care and worried for her own sake.

He snapped out of his thoughts at the whine she produced, confused on his face before he realised his knee was inbetween both her legs and she had almost definitely never been touched like that. One because of her little wolf issue, and two because she clearly had a lack of time outside her home just based off how afraid she was outside and then looking in wonder at simple objects in his home. Not that it was an issue for him, the more unaware she was in general, the better. She would be easier to tame if he could train a fresh mind.

And she was just that, a breathe of fresh air.

Simple and appreciative. No matter how small a thing he did for her, she was smiling brightly with her tail wagging and ears up. Whether it be a new bookmark or a diamond bracelet.

He remembers when he told her she could decorate her own room, he had never seen someone get so excited so fast. The room looked completely out of place, the rest of the mansion was relatively dark and gloomy but her space was bright but soft, calming in a way instead of tense.

He loved how she was like that, calming. Whenever he was having an awful day, there she was in his lap, ears up and a book in her hands that he had ‘assigned’ her to read for her ‘schoolwork’. She seemed to have at least her ears out all the time, especially when he touched her, just a hand on her leg would have her tail wagging and he couldn’t find it in himself to make her stop.

But he found that if he did tell her to put them away, it was the only way she would do so.

He had found her in tears over two star crossed lovers in a book she had gotten from her personal library, a gift from him of course, and watched as she struggled to calm herself down. But the second he used a commanding tone on her to put the canine features away, they were gone and she was whimpering quite literally like a puppy being told off.

He found that he had more control over her wolf than she did. And he loved it, she was his good girl, his little puppy to play with and look after.

She kept his bed warm when he was gone and made his heart swell when he was there.

He loved seeing her so freely running around in her wolf form, finally able to control where she was going and what she was thinking as she chased the birds and and spun around to get his attention. Only issue was when she gained more control, he seemed to lose some. And she was quick to tease him, running circles around him and nipping at his ankles when he was busy, having him chase after her because she had taken his phone or worse: the white oak stake. Of course she didn’t understand the importance but to her it was a game and she wanted him to play too.

He understood her mindset of course and she was completely entertaining for him but it was a pain to have to hunt her down every time he needed her to practice her school work.

He would always remember the first time he turned to chase her down. The surprise in her eyes when she skidded to a halt and looked up at him. He must’ve been nearly 10 times bigger than her and although she should probably have been terrified, she yipped happily and darted for the tree line. He shook his head before following after the flash of grey and brown that weaves through the woods, ultimately pinning her down and bringing her home before claiming his prize for winning the game.

The prizes varied greatly, sometimes he got a kiss on the cheek from her, sometimes he would get to sink his teeth into her sweet skin, sometimes he would just lay with her, y/n on the other hand got very different prizes, on the rare occasion that she won he found himself wearing a face mask and cucumber on his eyes as she giggled and held his hand.

Whatever she did, whether she were human or a little wolf, he kept her happy and hidden from the rest of the world but this time she didn’t feel like a disappointment, she felt adored.

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neverchecking · 5 months

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OMG!!!! Ok ok ok ok ok- hear me out. We all know Sage DESPISES Wild, right? Now… imagine, a reader who prefers Wild over Sage. Everyone knows about it. I wonder how our little angsty boy will take that knowledge… and Hylia forbid if reader prefers Cal over Sage… He hates him even more.

Discuss.

This is SO funny because my wonderful Significant other (@wayfayrr ) actually prefers Wild while I prefer Sage.

It's funny because...here's the thing. Sage has such an interesting ego in the sense that this will go one of two ways. One) He either won't care. Depending on his stance with Reader? He won't give a shit. He has his own things to do and he doesn't care if reader wants to waste their time on someone who looks like they picked a fight with the road and lost.

But if he does like reader? It eats away at him. It absolutely just picks and picks and picks and he's livid. He's doing everything he can to destroy that relationship. Little whispers in reader's ears, maybe he's taking something of their's and putting it wild's bag, maybe he's picking a fight only to act innocent once Reader appears. Hard to say, the point is, he's doing everything in his power to destroy that little relationship before it even has a chance to blossom.

Should Cal be the object of affection it might be a lil different. Because Cal, for all intents and purposes, is like...as close to lore accurate link as possible. Like in AOC he's an absolute BEAST. So he's a pretty even matchup for Sage in that way. However, he has the emotional capacity of the rock he ate for lunch so that might put a damper on things.

Or does it?

Because imagine, if you will, a reader who teaches Cal how to love and how to cherish and how to have emotions further than hungry indifference. Then Cal forms that bond. That bond that he's aching over, craving for. he thinks about it 25/8 and is following three steps behind reader at any given time. Because then? Then should he and Sage have to face off?

Then you have something far bigger and far more...intricate in my opinion. A fun concept! I'll toy around with it a bit more and see if i come up with anything <3

#cinder rambles #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #linked universe #yandere linked universe #link x reader

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propenseverbosity · 23 days

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Gale demi essay when? 👀

WELL SINCE YOU ASKED XD (Seriously thank you <3)

I think Gale Dekarios is Demisexual and here is why:

First things first. The man is devoted. When he loves, he gives his entire heart and soul to his partner. He thrives on a deep connection, and we're all aware of the nerd rizz that drew us to him in the first place.

However, the man is also damn-near OBLIVIOUS when someone starts to flirt with him. It takes a literal mind-reading connection for him to understand that Tav MIGHT like him (because of course picturing kissing him with passion isn't enough to 100% confirm! /s)

"But Gale still has sex with the player" you might ask me. And you are would be correct, but being aspec/demi isn't just about not having sex with someone, it's a lack of attraction until a deep emotional bond is formed. And I do believe Gale forms that bond with Tav before sex happens in act 2.

Some may say that he's just holding back because of the orb, but with the way he seems genuinely surprised that Tav flirts with him at the Tiefling Party, I think he's just using the orb as an excuse to not move things too fast.

Even after the orb is cured, it takes some time (and some water-testing bold flirtations in the shadowlands) to confirm that they're both on the same page before he takes anything further.

When he finally does confess his true feelings to Tav, he doesn't just hit them with an "I love you." No no, that's too vague. He has to give them the full "I'm in love with you." just so they know he means it with his entire orb-filled chest.

He talks about how he wishes they had more time. How "if things were different" he would have taken the time to do things properly, because, as he also says, he cannot change who he is, or how he loves. (let me tell you, as an ace, that line hits HARD)

This is just a side note but if you tell him his kissing is 'out of practice', he says he wishes you two had more time to practice together, and the thoughts of Gale spending time devoted exclusively to kissing his partner, without the pressure or expectations of anything more... You see where I'm going with this (I hope)

Not to mention, even after feelings (and a feelings-cementing kiss) have been exchanged, and he knows Tav feels the same way, he still feels the need to deepen that bond even further before they take things all the way!

He takes them on a magical tour of his home T_T to show them where he came from through what little glimpses into his life he can share. He could just get down to the magical sex part, but he wants Tav to know him in every way.

Physically, emotionally, even spiritually! Gale Dekarios doesn't JUST have sex (unless that is what Tav prefers) he will fuse their souls together in the Weave until they are together as one. (Also, as an ace myself, I think the Weave Sex is fascinating in the fact that there's a way to bond with a partner without using physical bodies. I wish that were real tbh, it sounds very cool!!!)

He knows they don't have the time to act out whatever romantic timeline he had in his head when he first caught feelings (At the very least he hoped to take them on an actual DATE first) but he wants to make damn sure he expresses his love for Tav in the only way he can, with what little time they have left.

Anyway Demi Gale thoughts live in my head rent free, thank you for letting me rant about this on main.

#behold my demi gale essay #gale headcanons #bg3 gale #gale romance #gale x tav #bg3 spoilers #gale dekarios #demisexual #headcanoning aspec characters my beloved #I didn't even proofread this #I saw the ask in my inbox and started typing immediately

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toulousewayne · 7 months

Text

Batfam and Batsis Headcannon: Ages 17-21

Tim:

Timothy Jackson Drake, was a little menace. Y/n knew that from the Time she found him on her doorstep. Tim was the first person Y/n felt like she had to really be careful of her actions in front of. Not because Tim would copy her but because she felt like she was supposed to set an example something she never had to do.

Tim becoming Robin was a bit of a blur for her, she just remembers them patrolling a lot and Tim asking her a lot questions in the beginning.

Tim didn’t live at the manor right away in fact it was a bit into his career before he fully moved in after his parents respected passings.

Tim felt guilty for not saving his father and Y/n spend a lot of time with him to help resolve this feelings because it wasn’t Tim’s fault.

Tim was the little brother she always wanted, he steal her eyeliner and she storm into his room and pick with him while Kon,Bart and Cassie would come over. They loved Tim’s cool older sister and she liked them.

Tim had trouble with words, especially with his feelings. It was no surprise to anyone that Tim walked into his sister’s room on a random Thrusday Night with blush on his face.

“What is it Little Bird?” She inquired while still having her face shoved in a Physics textbook.

Scratching the back of his neck and breathed out a strangled sign,” How do you know when you like someone?”

Y/n turned her gaze to him,”Like or Like Like?”

“Like like.”

“Boy or Girl?”

His blush grew even darker,”Well uhh..”

“Doesn’t matter to me, but just be your normal dorky self. Just don’t word vomit. You tend to do that Little Bird.”

Tim came out to his older sister first years later because she made Tim feel seen but not like it wasn’t a big deal.

Tim and Y/n formed a a very fun bond, it even rivaled his bond with Dick which made the older man a little jealous but it made him become more active with his younger brother which was something Y/n wanted him to do.

Patrol with Batgirl, Robin and Nightwing were the most comical nights Gotham had seen. You had a detective smartass Robin, a chatty hot headed older Bird, and the sassy and mysterious Batgirl. Riddler still has nightmares.

But things began to change and soon other additions became known.

Cassandra:

Y/n had made it clear to Bruce that she wanted a sister, not that she didn’t enjoy her time with Tim and Dick and even Jason. But she wanted someone who could relate to her.

One night after patrol Y/n returned to the Clock Tower and was introduced to Cass. She didn’t talk and once Barbara told her about what happened to her it only made Y/n more protective of her.

Between her and Babs Cass began to think for herself and not like how she was programmed by her father. Barbara taught Cass more about personal and emotional development, but Y/n showed Cass how to be a teenage girl.

She took her to the mall with Tim and let her pick out clothes she felt comfortable with, she let Cass take clothes from her closet in the end because it made her feel connected to people.

Y/n was training and Cass enter the room,”Sorry didn’t realize I was taking so long, I’ll clear out if you like.”

“No,your fine.” Cass responses. Cass takes a stance in front of her. Y/n gets in stance and they too spar. Cass can quickly match Y/n’s attacks and defenses.

The two sparred for a few hours before calling it. “Not bad Sis, how about a Root Beer Float on me?”

“Okie.”

Y/n wraps her arm around Cass and the pair walk out the gym. They two Wayne Sisters scare Bruce. And most men except Alfred.

Y/n was getting ready to graduate Gotham Academy with Honors and she felt kinda sad and Cass appeared before her and engulfed her in a hug.

“She would be proud.” She knew Cass was referring to Y/n’s Mom. “Thank you Sissy.”

Everyone attended,Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Barbara, Tim, and Cass. She was so happy and Bruce threw a party at Wayne Manor for the graduation class.

Y/n took Cass from a group of kids she met at school and took her to her room.

“Cass I your aware that I’m leaving in a few weeks for college in Metropolis.” Cass nodded.

“As much fun as it would be to tag along with Uncle Clark, I just won’t have to time or really need to patrol. Which is why I talked to Babs a few days ago and I’m stepping down as Batgirl.”

Cass understood what she was saying but she also knew how hard Y/n worked to become the new Batgirl.

Y/n took a black box and handed it to Cass. “Me and Babs think your ready and I couldn’t ask for someone else to carry on the mantle.” Cass tore open the box to find her own Batgirl suit.

Tears formed in Cass’s eyes and she hugged Y/n

“I won’t let you down.”

“I know sis, your gonna rock.” Y/n smiled and hugged her back.

Stephanie:

Y/n had taken a step down from being Batgirl full time meaning for a short time Robin patrolled alone. She felt guilty but soon she learned that her little bird had a friend.

Y/n meet Stephanie when Tim and her became official, this was only a few months before she totally resigned from the mantle but she did get to work with Steph a hand full of times.

One of the last times was when ClueMaster escaped from Blackgate and threaten Stephanie’s Mom.

Spoiler spring into action and Batgirl responded to Oracle’s request to assist her. The two formed a plan of action to enter Stephanie’s Mom job and save the hostages.

“You take the left side and I’ll go right. Take the goons out swiftly and hard.”

“Rodger that Batgirl.”

The pair made quick work of the goons, and finally found ClueMaster who had Steph’s mom hostage.

Once they save her she was anything but thankful and resented her daughter for re-prisoning her father.

Batgirl called her own and made the woman feel bad but the damage was done as Stephanie told Batgirl on a rooftop later that night, she learned that she wasn’t to blame for her parents choices nor should she have to atone for her father’s sins.

“Your Steph, never let anyone tell you stop being who you are and never stop being a light for others.”

Even once Stephanie and Tim relationship became more friendly and less romantic Y/n loved the blonde just as much.

Steph would drive up on the weekends with Cass and visit her in college. They would go shopping, try new restaurants and go fun amusement parks.

Stephanie and Y/n become really good friends and if Y/n needed to talk someone who was her siblings or Dad Steph was always willing to listen.

Jason Pt 2:

When Red Hood first emerged Y/n was away in school and no one told her. She had a long weekend and came home to surprise her family. Alfred was the most surprised to find her at the door but by the look on his face it didn’t seem like she was the first surprise this week.

She soon found out about Dick’s bruised ribs and broken leg, and Tim being attacked at Titan’s tower. Even Bruce had token a beaten from his last encounter with Red Hood and Y/n was furious.

“HOW DARE YOU NOT TELL YOU GOT HURT!” She scolded her father.

“y/n, please we didn’t want to worry you, we have everything under—“

She scoffed,”Like Hell you do! Your hurt Dick is black and blue,and Tim looks like he just did three tours in World War Two.”

She bit her tongue,”Who is he Father?”

Bruce sighed,”Y/n..”

“I won’t ask twice.”

Bruce didn’t answer her but instead pressed the button on the computer that light up with the DNA test he just got the results back minutes before her arrival.

Over the course of a minute several different emotions washed over her face and it landed on stoic. She turned on her heels and left the cave with Bruce calling for her to wait.

In a hours time she stood in front of a door in an abandoned apartment complex and knocked on the door. When no once answered she kicked the door down. And in the center of the room was a man laughing with a sack on his head as he was tied and chained to a folding chair.

She marched to him and ripped off the sack and there was bloody and bruised Joker.

“Ooh hello your the beautiful Wayne Daughter that left. Welcome back cupcake.” He chuckled. The sound of the gun clicking filled the room with Joker’s blooded laughing.

“Turn around.” The deep voice ordered. Smirking to herself, “if you were gonna shot me you’d pull the trigger already big brother.”

The room is silent and before Red Hood screams in pain, when Y/n turns around his hand is bloody and a Batarang is on the ground.

“Stand down Jason, he’s not worth it.” Batman brooded.

“You never understood me Old man, I never wanted to kill innocent people. Not Harvey,not Bane just him. He took me away from you..from her. From everything.”

The two had a heated argument and fight that ended with Bruce shielding Y/n from the explosion of the building.

Y/n returned to Jason’s grave and laid flowers. Sighing to herself she stood up and turned to the tree adjacent to his grave.

“You could have found me, I would have helped you Jay. I still can.” Jason appeared in a hoodie and refused to look her in the eyes.

“You always saw the best in me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“Bullshit Todd, you can play that song all you want but it doesn’t work on me.” She snapped.

He finally met her gaze, it was the first time since prior to his death did she see his face. His blue eyes now a deep green, a white tuff of hair at the base of his hair, a scare on his left cheek, his eyes look tired as well.

“I’m not who I used to be, I’ve changed, I’ve killed and I can’t change that. They don’t see it but what I do is stop the murders, rapistst the monsters from hurting people.”

She signed,”I won’t lie and say Dad’s ways have flaws but so do yours,” she glanced at the tombstone and dusted it off.

“I remember you taking to me, you visted me all the time.” He grinned .

“And now your back.” She smiled

He didn’t meet her gaze,” it’s not gonna be happy in the Manor, maybe never again.”

“You could try to find out what you want Jay, not many get a second chance at life.”

He nodded and with that he sighed with a grin,”I make no promises, I’ll see you around sis.” And he left the graveyard and she sighed to herself knowing that it was possible but it would take sometime for them to get Jason back.

When she returned to the manor she heard shouting and screaming. She rushed into the living room where Bruce and Dick were trying to keep Tim and and a young boy from killing each other.

“That fucking Demon cut me!” Tim shrieked.

“And I’ll draw more of your pathetic blood imposter.” The boy hissed being held in a tight grip by Dick.

“I can’t leave you idiots alone for five minutes!” Y/n snapped and all the eyes turned to her.

The boy with the deep copper skin and jade eyes was the first to speak,”Is she another one of your bastards you plucked off the sidewalk.” He hissed at Bruce.

Y/n eyed the boy before she turned back to her father,”And who might he be.”

“Damian, he’s your little Brother Y/n.” A tired Bruce clarified.

“Brother!”

“SHE’S MY SISTER!”

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