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sheepiemc · 7 months

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Seven Stupid Reasons to Summon a Demon

Reason #1: lonely

It was a day that started like any other.

Your alarm went off (like always).

You got ready for work (like always).

You commuted (like always).

You did your job for four hours (like always).

Then, it was time for lunch.

Normally, you opt to stay inside “the office” (or wherever it is that you work) and bring something from home to save money. But looking at your lunch — the same thing you eat almost every day — makes you sigh.

You look out the window to the city down below. It was a gloomy morning, but now that it is midday, the sun is starting to shine through the clouds. A beam of sunlight lands on your skin and you enjoy the warmth. The ring on your finger catches the light and you look down at it.

How ridiculous would it be to summon a demon to have lunch with you because you don’t want to eat alone? You banish the thought from your mind. You don’t want to disturb the demon you were thinking of; you are certain he has a lot on his plate (like always) and he wouldn’t appreciate being bothered with something so trivial (like always).

You sigh and look outside again. Maybe the fresh air will do you some good. You decide to spend your lunch break walking around downtown just because you can. Honestly, you don’t know why you don’t do this more often. You can find a lot of hidden gems this way.

You wander around aimlessly before you happen upon a record store. It's just a little hole-in-the-wall place, mostly unassuming. When you step in, however, you're greeted by a music-lover's paradise. Multi-colored vinyl records, signed band posters, and album covers decorate the walls. The atmosphere is groovy and retro, speaking to a bygone era of funk and flower power. There’s even a disco ball hanging from the ceiling! You take in the scenery for a moment as you stand in the doorway.

“‘Sup.” The guy behind the counter greets you without looking up. “If there’s anything you need help with or want to listen to let me know.” You nod, even though he isn’t looking at you, and go to explore the stacks.

Your fingertips brush past rows and rows of records. You search all your favorite genres, looking out for your favorite bands, and find some gems. You don’t have a lot of money right now, so you can’t go crazy. You twist the ring on your finger as you contemplate what to get.

Actually, now that you think about it…

Maybe you can find something to add to your “special collection”.

See, you were inspired by a certain demon to develop a “cursed” record collection of your own. Since cursed magical items are hard to come by on earth, whenever you find yourself in a place that sells records, you like to check out the classical music section for albums that feature, or are inspired by the devil. It's something you like to share with him and only him. After shuffling through the stacks, you find something you think will work. You smile impishly to yourself, proud of your new purchase.

You make it through the rest of the workday thinking about the record. You aren't going to listen to it just yet; you like to share the experience with the devil himself. It's a good excuse to summon him from the Devildom — well, good enough for you anyway. You like to have a few more albums to listen to before you call him, so you don't feel as guilty for asking him to stay a bit longer.

You take a deep breath when you finally arrive in your quiet room, in your now-still apartment. You place the record on top of the others and take a look around — empty, except for your cat, sleeping peacefully on your bed. You could invite friends over to fill the silence, but your friends are notoriously terrible at last-minute plans. You absentmindedly twist the ring on your finger.

You need something to fill this oppressive quiet, your fingers itch and ache, you have to DO something.

You have to play the piano.

You go out to your living room, where you keep a digital piano. It’s a little fancier than a regular old keyboard but you live in a small apartment and you're not exactly rolling in it so it's the best you can do.

The room is dark.

You hate the silence.

You sit at the bench and flex your fingers, hovering above the black and white keys. No sheet music, right now you just need to play your emotions. You play a low note and listen to it reverberate.

Then a chord.

Then another.

You close your eyes and start improvising a melancholic melody over a haunting chord progression. You are so lost in what you’re creating you don't notice the blue light flooding the dark room. It’s gone almost as soon as it arrived and it brings with it a figure covered in shadow, a figure you also don’t notice. He stands tall in the center of your room, tilting his head to the side as he listens. Once he gathers what happened intuitively, he stands over you, proudly watching you pour your potent emotions into your playing.

You strike a final chord and exhale loudly, ruminating on the final note. You gasp lightly when a teardrop you didn't notice falls from your face onto the keys.

You nearly jump out of your skin when another chord is struck up the piano. The shadow figure reveals himself to be the very demon you were thinking about while playing. Lucifer doesn't look at you as he continues to play a lighter melody. Your hands jump away from the keys and press against the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

He continues to play, not yet sitting. His sketch sounds hopeful, almost as if to say, "I'm glad to have you with me again." He sneaks a glance at you and smirks, finally taking a seat on the bench next to you. You just watch him, absolutely mesmerized, still in shock that he's really in front of you.

He stops playing and looks at the keys closest to you, a signal — it's your turn again. Your melody is more playful than moody this time, there's a lightness now that wasn’t there before. Lucifer responds with something firm and grounded. When it's your turn, you tickle your way closer to his side. He gets lower, too. You scoot closer. From the corner of your eye, you see him smile a little bit wider. In the middle of his turn, you start playing again and together you improvise a beautiful, colorful piece of music together, full of happiness and longing, celebrating each other.

When you can’t contain your excitement any longer, you interrupt the song and throw your arms around him. The force of you throwing your entire body weight at him only pushes him over slightly — he’s quick to catch you in his arms, twisting his torso to face you.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you say into his neck. It comes out as barely a whisper.

You feel more than hear the chuckle rumble in his chest. “You’re the one who summoned me here.”

You pull back just enough to look at him. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t do it on purpose?”

He looks at the keys on the digital piano. “Something was calling out to me.”

“I guess I’ve been kinda lonely today… And I was thinking about you… A lot…”

Lucifer hums contentedly, stern lines on his face smoothing out. Obviously, he likes it when you stroke his ego.

You roll your eyes playfully and bury your face in his neck again. “I’m sorry for summoning you by accident, I know you're very busy but…” You play with his tie. “Can you stay here a bit, with me?”

Lucifer sighs softly. You steel yourself for the words you're sure will come out of his mouth, “I can’t” or “Not right now”.

“MC, I don’t think you realize that I want to see you just as much as, if not more so than, you want to see me.” He traces his finger along your jaw and lifts your chin so that you're looking at him. “If I’ve made you think I feel otherwise, that is my fault and I must apologize.”

You feel your heart skip a beat when the Avatar of Pride apologizes to you, a lowly human. You’re in such a state of shock, you don’t know what to say so Lucifer continues to fill the silence. “If I had the ability to summon you to my side whenever I wanted, I can’t say I wouldn’t abuse that power greatly.”

His hand rests at the side of your face, thumb wiping another tear you didn’t even know fell. You got so used to that rowdy house in the Devildom, so full of people and chaos, that coming home to your quiet, little one-bedroom apartment in the human world every day has been wearing you down. More tears start to flow as the weight of your loneliness comes crashing down on you.

You hold him tighter and press your face into his shoulder, hiding in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess,” you say, laughing.

He chuckles. “Don’t apologize. I appreciate all aspects of you. Even when you are a mess.”

You sit on the piano bench for what you wish was all eternity but is likely only about 10 minutes before you reluctantly untangle yourself from the demon you unwittingly called to this realm.

“Well, since you're here…” You stand, pull him from the bench, and lead him to your bedroom… where you keep your records! You present him with the newest addition to your collection with a wide smile.

He takes it from your hands and looks at the cover thoughtfully. He reads the title out loud, “The Mephisto Waltz & Other 'Satanic' Piano Music Of Franz Liszt - John Ogdon”.

He looks back at you. “Interesting,” he says in the most uninterested tone. You laugh out loud, you thought he might like that.

“Well, if you don’t want to listen to it, I can just-” You reach for the record but he pulls it out of your reach.

“I never said that.”

He walks over to your record player and carefully sets it up while you sit on the edge of your bed. When the music starts up, you're surprised by how fast-paced it is but you're still into it. Luci looks at your desk chair meaningfully then back at you. You scowl and shake your head slightly, tapping the edge of the bed next to you. He smiles and sits down beside you.

You lean against him, sneakily snaking your arms around his middle, and play with one of his hands.

You feel him relax, almost imperceptibly, leaning into your touch. He chuckles, and softly says under his breath, “This brings back memories.”

He closes his eyes and you lift your head to stare at him, left wondering whatever the hell he meant by that. You would ask, but he loves to be intentionally vague whenever you bring up his involvement in the lives of humans from the past.

"This isn't what I thought this song would be," you quietly admit as you play with his gloved fingers.

"Oh?"

"It's called a waltz, so I thought, you know, we would be able to dance to it…"

"You wish to dance with me?" He says in a teasing tone, one that makes your face feel hot.

"WELL, I JUST THOUGHT-"

"That would be fairly amusing…" He says, almost more to himself than to you.

He uses his free hand to lift your chin up so that you're looking at him. If your face wasn't red before, it definitely is now.

"It was a silly idea, we don't-"

"No, no. I believe I would like to dance with you as well."

His smile is rather wolfish as he stands from your bed and pulls you up along with him. The next song on the record starts and it isn't very apt for a dance, either.

"The music-" You begin to protest before Lucifer snaps his finger and the record begins to glow with a blue light. A record scratch abruptly interrupts the music when Chopin's Waltz in A minor, B. 150 starts to flow through the speaker.

He pulls your body to the proper position, one hand on your waist, the other cradling yours. Of course, he'll lead. You roll your eyes playfully.

"Do you remember how to do this?" He asks, amused.

"Pshh, of course I do," you say right before accidentally stepping on his foot. "Oop, sorry."

He chuckles. "Follow my lead."

And you do. You dance around your little room, only stepping on him a few more times before you get the hang of it again. ("It's been a long time, okay??") You twirl and pivot, avoiding tiny obstacles around your room, laughing when you attempt to take the lead by spinning him out and back into your arms.

He finishes the dance by lifting you by the waist and spinning around. You giggle uncontrollably, feeling lighter than you have in months. When he brings you back down, you lace your hands together behind his neck and put your head on his shoulder. The music shifts to something soft that you can slow dance to. His arms tighten around your waist, holding you close as you sway together.

“I really needed this,” you say. “I’ve missed you guys so much.”

You feel him stiffen slightly at the remark. You smile to yourself, delighted that something so small could affect him.

You look up at him, “I’ve missed you most, of course.”

He smiles down at you and the affection you see in his eyes is so genuine, it embarrasses you. “It’s always a pleasure to see you, MC.”

You look down to hide your quickly reddening face. “I wish I could summon you more often but I know you’re very busy. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“Oh, yes,” Lucifer hums, as if he has to think hard about what he was doing before this, “I believe I was in a meeting with Lord Diavolo.”

“Lord Diavolo!?” Your eyes widen with panic. You push yourself away to look him straight in his face, hoping he’s just teasing you.

His wolfish grin returns as he smooths down a lock of hair that is out of place on your head. “Yes, but it was one of those frivolous meetings he likes to trick me into. ‘Oh, Lucifer, you must try this bottle of Demonus I found in the depths of the labyrinthine cellar.’ Nothing truly important, I promise.”

Relief quickly washes over you and you relax back into his embrace. “So... I get to keep you a little longer?”

“Tonight?” His hold around you tightens. “You may keep me as long as you wish.”

#obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer fluff #originally posted on ao3 #i was 100% imagining the corpse bride piano duet #op #fic

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yandere-writer-momo · 9 months

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Monster F-er anon and I were talking and we just thought of monster groom Katsumi ✨✨✨ This idea is loosely based off of The Corpse Bride.

Monster Katsumi who’s bride left him at the altar (because he was too much for her) and sealed him away into a tree. He’d only be brought back to life (back to being human??) after receiving true love.

And the years alone have made him absolutely delusional beyond reasoning.

Yandere Baki Short Stories: The Corpse Husband

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TW: Yandere Behavior, Forced Marriage (??), and Elements of Horror/ Undead

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Many centuries have gone by and his tree remained the only one left in that desolate part of the forest. He was slowly giving up hope until you arrived.

You were practicing your heartfelt vows for your groom, Retsu. And stumbled upon this quiet little area in the forest. So you used the eerily man shaped tree to practice your vows unaware of the man trapped inside.

“I vow to love you as you love me, through all hardship, darkness, and pain to reach for our joys, our hopes, and always with honesty, patience, and faith.” You slipped the ring in your hand on the tree branch before you chuckled at yourself. “Heavens I am corny-“

A hand snatched out of the tree and grabbed yours, a scream ripped through your chest when a partially human man emerged from the tree. A smile on their partially skeletal face that slowly began to be covered with flesh.

“Finally… my one true love, you have arrived!” Your arms were snatched with both of his strong partially decomposed hands. You were horrified of this zombie that slowly became more human by the second. “I have waited what felt like eons for you and I’m so happy I didn’t lose faith…”

The decomposed body was now completely human. The handsome man wearing a white tailored suit as he stood before you. You were too shell shocked to even grasp on what magical event has happened before your very eyes.

“I should say my vows as well right, my love?” Katsumi asked with a bright smile. “You are my guide to love, my every wish, and the person I want to grow old with. I vow for you to always be my one and only in this world…”

“W-wait! I don’t even know you-“ Katsumi pressed his soft lips to yours to hush you. His hands lovingly holding your face.

“My name is Katsumi Orochi and I’m your husband…” Katsumi gave you a smile that made your skin crawl. “Till death do us part, my love.”

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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The Prince and His Corpse Bride (part ii)

part i

pronouns: she/her warnings: eventual infidelity? (he and Baela have no romantic connection) summary: The good news is that Jacaerys has found his grandmother’s ring. One problem. He may have accidentally gotten married to the wrong person? As he traipses through a strange new world to get it back, his not-wife isn't what she seems... disclaimers: of course i do not own the original corpse bride nor asoiaf however this is my own work and story, i do not give permission for my work to be transferred onto other platforms or translated dividers by: firefly-graphics wordcount: 3,818

“Wha-Who are you?” Jacaerys splutters, scrambling his back against the weirwood tree. The dark shadow of nightfall begins to overcast and he can distantly hear Cregan shouting for him. Your lips fold of their own accord as you snicker, you kneel down to his height. “I told you, silly,” You giggle and brush a strand of fallen hair behind his ear in a manner akin to affection. He recoils but you take no notice, smiling just as sweetly at him as if he had gifted you a thousand poetries. You lift your veil to flow down your back rather than over your face. “I’m your wife.” If Jacaerys wasn’t sure this was a dream then he certainly is now. He flinches at the words and slaps a hand to his mouth. “N-No.” He protests, breath stuttering as a nervous chuckle breaks past his dead cold–No!--just cold lips. His palms raise as if in surrender though he intends to do the opposite. “There must be some mistake for I am already betrothed to another.” Your eyes narrow, the flesh of your cheek–the half still present–flows between your teeth. His heart batters hard against his ribs. Your head tilts now, inspecting him and suddenly he feels like a little boy presented to the court again, lacking the snow white hair he is eager to possess.

You sigh at his frazzled appearance and horrified expression. “Indeed.” Your voice bellows and he sighs himself but in relief. “Send your former betrothed my regards.” You turn your back on him and even though it would be so easy for him to run away; he finds himself chasing after you. For the ring, he assures himself, for the ring. A torturous wind ensues but you don’t seem phased, your hair barely even ruffles. “No, I–” He huffs and outstretches her palm. He raises his head high. You’re a Targaryen. He reminds himself. Remember what Daemon told you. Princes do not need permission. He winces at the phrase but still pierces her eyes with his own. “I need that ring.” He demands. Again, you tilt your head but this time condescendingly. You square your shoulders and attempt to match his height. Both your and the prince’s eyes narrow. “No.” You state coolly. “You don’t.” He opens his mouth but you wag a single index finger in his face. “You don’t.” You repeat like scolding a puppy. “This is a vow of one’s devotion toward one’s wife, correct?” You ask, quick and almost as though you had thrown this out before. He nods stiffly. “And a symbol of cherished love and protection?” Again he nods, brow furrowing. “So it belongs to your wife?” He sighs but before he can speak, you interrupt his impending thoughts by wagging your finger again. He seals his lip tightly. He nods. “Yes.” He finally speaks. You nod and he has the gall to be proud of himself for once. You stop walking and spin around to face him, clapping your hands together shortly. “Then we have no problem.” His eyes widen. “Really?” “Yes. Your wife is wearing it.” Jacaerys shuts his eyes and curses himself.

“You are not my wife.” He states, trying to stay calm even as you start walking off again. He grimaces and glances behind him at the First Keep. He wrestles with himself a moment before scurrying after you again. Jacaerys Velaryon has run before and he does not like it. He hates it rather. He hates that he left for Dragonstone as a child, he hates that he left his life in King’s Landing, leaving him as a stranger in what is supposed to be his own home. He hates his brown hair but he hates the stares cursed onto him most of all. Because they’re all thinking the same thing. You do not run unless you have something to hide from. And he is done hiding. He will accept his responsibilities, marry Baela and he will get back that ring. The winds of Winterfell become all consuming, pressing against his face as if in an attempt to stop him. The roots of so many Northern trees coil before his foot, curling in attempts to trap him. The mixed messages surge through the prince’s mind. Even the Gods’ nature do not know which youngling they side with. The prince or the corpse. He is not fond of his odds and this does not cast him in the confidence he prays for.

He follows, pleading with the woman like a beggar which he supposes he is now. A shiver jolts through Jacaerys like a warning. “Whatever it is that pleases you I will consider so long as you return my ring. You will be rewarded handsomely.” “There is no need! I am quite satisfied, lord husband.” You quip, the words slithering from your tongue like a trained snake. Jacaerys calls out, trying to track your figure as you twist through the various trees when suddenly she falls. He gasps, eyes widening as he scrambles to find her, was there a bottomless pit he hadn’t heard of? “Lady?” He calls out, peering over the edge but he frowns at the mere blanket of snow and fallen leaves. A single shaking hand of his reaches out to pad it gently and he gasps when it pushes through into emptiness. He frowns as he investigates, blinking furiously. Jacaerys continues prodding at it, how perfectly it looks encased around his forearm. When he pulls it out again, he finds that it is not wet. It is as though he had never touched the snow at all but instead of further questioning it, he sighs out in relief. It must be a dream. And then he falls, or more accurately; is pulled.

Jacaerys shrieks as he plummets down below but again the snow hasn’t shifted. It appears like a tightly enclosed tunnel of moths and darkness. His breath quickens madly, A dream, this is a dream, a dream, a dream. The air whips around him, unnatural wind tosses his hair in his eyes and moths flutter to press into his clothing. His hands swat at them to no avail, squinting at the force of the wind. His nose wrinkles at a newfound smell, it is like laying in damp fabric. He hears a squeal and snaps his eyes open, head rising to see your excited form clapping. You rush to help him stand and he begrudgingly accepts it, eyes roaming the strange room. “I knew you would come,” You gush, intertwining your fingers with his reluctant and rigid ones. You take no notice. “I knew you would come for me and you would follow me down and you were absolutely wonderful! Oh you were perfect, everything that I have ever dreamed of–!” “You pulled me!” He realises and narrows his eyes. You shrug and smirk mischievously. “Would you not have come, anyway?” You tease which manages to snap his mouth shut because he would have, he knows he would have and you know he would have. He is an honourable prince and while he may not particularly care much for you right now, he was not willing to let you fall to your die over his pettiness.

He huffs as you hum sweetly and lead him through a long, night-dark passage, taking the time to glance at the various dark blue paintings surrounding you; portraits. All of them and there must be over five thousand at least. You twirl with his hand and sing sweet songs. He softens at the endearing display though disease eats at his stomach. “What are these?” He asks, pointing to one of the oil paintings. You halt and glance before grinning and skipping up to it, tugging Jacaerys as you go and making him stumble. “That,” You beam. “is her grace Princess Alyssa.” His eyes widen like those of a bird and he gapes. “My great-grandmother?” He asks and you freeze. Your brows knit. “You’re a…Targaryen?” You ask slowly, breath hitched and holding. The young prince takes in the potion of anxiety and nerves splashed upon your expression by his words. Still, Jacaerys stands proud of his ancestry and nods sharply. “Yes. I am the blood of Targaryen and Velaryon, a dragonrider and your prince. What is it you know of my line?” He musters all the strength of his blood to wrap around his bones. To firm them. Solidify his confidence and raise his chin high. He doesn’t like how you’re hesitating, how you bite your lip and nibble it like a frightened animal. “I did not realise.” You mutter quietly, almost disappointed. He deflates. Impulsively, your hand reaches out and ruffles through his brown hair and you visibly brighten again. “I thought you had been a Stark with hair so wonderful.” Suddenly, a flush creeps along his face and he almost purrs at the praise. “But no matter, you are my husband all the same.” And like that you’re walking again, leaving him to scamper after you with questions burning at you. “I am not, though I appreciate such niceties.” You ignore him. “Silly,” You chastise, voice reminiscent of scolding a young kitten. He huffs again, on the verge of snapping but then your words soothe him again with curiosity. “She was a kind madame, guided most of us here.”

“Guided you?” Jacaerys asks with an uneasy tilt, tentative. “Where do you mea–?” He’s interrupted by the resounding music, of harps, vielle, lutes all bashing strangely and out of time. Jacaerys’ orbs skim across the large room, at the intensity and swarming bodies all eager to gasp and greet him. He shivers and bats them away, close to falling. You hold him up and grin, giggling at who he assumes to be your friends, he doesn’t know what to think anymore. “Husband,” You beam. “I would like you to meet my family.” They all squeal and prod at him experimentally. “Don’t scare him!” You warn them but still smile brightly. Jacaerys stares, wild-eyed around him and clings to you like a frightened kitten. Both his arms loop around your waist but he straightens his back, still attempting to appear the regal prince of his name. A significantly older woman approaches and squishes your cheeks. “He’s cute.” She coos and winks at the both of you. Jacaerys bursts red and looks down. A man this time takes it upon himself to bump his hip and rake three fingers through his hair, only three,one on his left and two on his right. Jacaerys shudders and cringes back but the man takes no notice. You squeeze his hand and begin pointing out the various people around him but he can only find it in himself to remember four of them. “A…big family.” He chokes out and glances around. “Where are your mother and father?” Perhaps you will listen to reason if he can convince your parents that this was a mistake, your marriage is unconsummated of course. You only giggle at him.

“They are not here,” You respond in cadence. “They are still living.” Silence. Shock. Horror. Those are the only things rushing through his ears but you seem unaffected as his jaw drops and his lips stutter and stumble. “Wha-what do you mean?” He asks, moving to grasp your forearms tightly. Your brows rise. “You did not know?” You ask, swallowing around the nerves. It is not bashfulness that consumes his face in crimson this time. “Still living? You are dead?” He repeats, roaring. A few of your ‘family’ members gasp and grumble to themselves. He tenses and shoves himself away from you. You frown. “You came for me, you-you came to save–!” “I did no such thing!” His voice is boisterous. “You have taken me on a wild goose chase to follow my ring which you have stolen from me!” Your mouth opens to protest but he stretches a finger in your face. “No! You will not talk, you are a childish, naive girl who cannot accept her own death and is now dragging me through Seven Hells just to reclaim my own belonging–” “One that is sacred and worth more than some Northern girl that I have met mere minutes ago.” “Husband, are you not pleased?” You ask, suddenly your snark is gone and left in its place is a fragile teenager. He ignores you and keeps rambling. “I have a betrothed, I have a life, I have a throne to claim one day, I have–” He stops, his arms stop waving about and he looks at you again, really looks at you. He stops. He is not the only one frightened.

Your eyes fill with water, your lip trembles and your arms are wrapped so tightly around yourself. Breath lodges in his throat. He made you cry. Jacaerys waits a moment and then two more before turning gentle and softening his own eyes. He reaches out to you. “Lady, I am sorry, I–” You sniffle and bolt but as he’s about to chase after you, not for the first time, the stout woman from earlier grabs his arm stiffly, upturning her nose. “Leave her. You are lucky her heart is not as hard as her bone.” She glances up and down at him and he can tell what she’s thinking. He sighs and looks down, letting her too slip away. “He may have the bloodline but he doesn’t have the brains does he?” Jacaerys hears distantly and clenches his jaw before turning to find a resting place aways from them. He sighs as he sits at a stool, he thinks the room is very strange indeed with its various skeletal portraits and strangely human furnishing, a bar is even behind him right now. He hears a clink of glass on the said table but ignores as he feels an oncoming presence. “Hello,” A voice grunts beside him before he feels a slap across his shoulders. “A Targaryen, eh?” Jacaerys nods, already prepared to hear scepticism. “Not Rhaenyra’s kid are ye?” He frowns and finally looks up at the man with speckled face and thin hair. Jacaerys thins his own lips and glances over him. “Perhaps.” he settles on, unsure where it will land him to either confirm or deny. The man smiles. “Ah,” He nodded. “I knew I could see her in your eyes.” Jacaerys frowns and looks down, shame wrapping him like an old blanket. Old, worn and damp. You wish it would bring you the same comfort as it did when you were a child but something is wrong now. It isn’t with innocence in your ears, it is with speculation and longing. He swallows. “My eyes are brown, my Lord.” He rebuts with careful grace. The man leans forward to catch his eye. “Yes but the mischief is there,” The man grins like omniscient himself. He reaches a hand out and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“I do not suppose you remember me.” The man withers with the ghost of a smile and a sigh peeks from his lips. “A shame but not insulting.” he murmurs. Jacaerys softens, he’s disappointed someone again. The young prince looks down and sighs. “I cared for you as a child, when your mother was in council meetings and your fa-Ser Harwin was at his duties.” There’s a knowing glint in his gaze and Jacaerys looks at him again, more carefully this time before gasping and jumping to embrace him. “Ser Lorn!” He exclaims and suddenly he doesn’t feel like a scolded child, he feels like a free one. Ser Lorn chuckles and pats his back, throaty laugh more familiar than the clothes Jace wears. The man tugs away from him and motions to the bartender. He thanks him and grasps a glass full of strange yellow liquid. He slams it on the table with the roughness of a soldier. “Take a drink, dear boy, you’ll need it with these lot.” He glances around at the various peering eyes. “I’m sure this comes as a shock to ye, our Bridey tends to be a bit impulsive.” He nudges him as slushes the drink before handing it to the boy. Jacaerys looks sceptically down on it before hesitantly bringing to his lips and he gags at the strong smell, Lorn bursts into laughs, slapping his back again as Jacaerys takes a reluctant sip. It’s strange, burning and the glass is as hefty as the bar itself. He coughs as he puts it back down on the wood. He wipes his mouth. “Atta boy,” He winces and scrunches his nose at the taste.

“I want answers.” He blurts and turns, gentle-eyed, at his old friend. The man sighs and swallows, looking away. “What do you want to know?” Lorn asks. Jacaerys sits upright. “Everything!” He splurts. “Who is she? Why am I here? What’s happening, what’s going to happen? What is she?” Lorn squeezes his shoulder. “She’s our corpse bride.” He answers then drives a finger into the boy’s chest. “And how I understand it, you have wed her.” Jacaerys’ brow crinkles and he shakes his head. “That’s not true, I never, I didn’t!” He huffs in frustration. “I never would have said those vows had I known her body were there. Had I known this was even a possibility!” Lorn tightens his lips. Jacaerys looks off to were his ‘bride’ had fled away. “I didn’t mean to.” He looks like a sad puppy left out in the rain. “How did she get like this?” “It’s a long story…” “I have time.” Jacaerys’ eyes harden and suddenly his prince persona has returned full force. “It was many years ago, you yourself must have been but sixteen.” Jacaerys frowns. He had expected her to be a lot older. “A Lady in her own right and a beautiful one, many suitors and even more vying for her attention.” Jacaerys hesitates as he takes in the information. “Is…Is she…?” “Is she what, dear boy?” “Is she the Lady Y/n?” Silence takes over and then slowly Lorn nods. “A mysterious man too well known for his own good came and visited Winterfell. A man said as brutal as the hand of the Gods but as beautiful as she and our poor baby, she fell hard in fast. Her father denied the man her hand but she swore to him that she would elope. Our lovers made a promise but when it came time, when she snuck to the Godswood with only her mother’s wedding gown and as many jewels as would fit in her satchel…” Lorn pauses, sorrow making him wince. Jacaerys waits. “She was ready but she waited and waited for him to show until finally she heard rustling, turned around and–” Jacaerys leans forward, more enthralled than he could ever have imagined. “Then everything went black and when she opened her eyes? She was dead as dust.” Lorn takes a swig of his ale.

“But…” Jacaerys slowly processes the dreary tale and bites his lip. “But what about the man?” “She never told us. What she did tell us is that she made a vow lying under that tree, she’d wait for her true love to come set her free and vow in the way that was supposed to be and cloak her in his protection for all eternity. Protection.” Jacaerys sags his shoulders. “And now he has come.” Jacaerys rise in alarm with wide eyes and shakes his head, standing. “That’s-that’s not me!” He protests. “I have a betrothed!” “You made a vow, dear boy,” “No! Not to her, to Baela! It was an accident! I was practicing!” “She’s a lovely girl.” Lorn utters softly, softer than anything he’s ever heard. “She is kind and graceful, dutiful, she is–” “She is dead! Her vows shouldn’t matter!” The boy snaps and Lorn hardens. “Watch your tongue. Vows of the dead are a very serious business.” “What?” “There are seven rules,” He states calmly. “One, once a vow is made it must be fulfilled otherwise the participant dies,” Jacaerys’ eyes grow impossibly rounded. “Two, someone living can bring a deceased person back to life if they seal them with fated promise and help them fulfil their vow. Three, If someone undead makes a vow to someone living, it does not take any effect, neither participants must take it. Four, If someone makes a vow before they pass, they must spend their undead existence attempting to fulfil it, they may only pass to the afterlife once it is fulfilled, or forever live undead in the inbetween of realms. Five, the vow must be satisfied once begun within two moons time or the undead will be forced live forever in a state of unrest.” He hesitates now. “Six, the vow does not have to be completed to be satisfied by someone living and seven, it must be completed within seventy-two hours.” Jacaerys sighs in relief. “Then I am free!” “You know that would not be right.” “It was not right that I was tricked into this.” Jacaerys argues.

“No but it is not her fault.” “Then whose is it?” “Sometimes there is no one,” Lorn answers, shaking his head. “I’m supposed to marry Baela, it is my duty,” Lorn rolls his eyes, tired of the same repeated words. “Well are you in love with her?” Jacaerys tenses at the words and twitches his face. “She is my cousin, I have known her all my life, of course I love her!” “But are you in love with her?” Jacaerys grunts in frustration and stands. “No but that matters not, I swore an oath, I swore to honour her, to-to–!” “What good is a marriage without being in love?” Lorn asks, warmth threading through his words. “Your mother was miserable.” Jacaerys snaps his sights on him. Lorn waits. “This isn’t the first time that she has seen you, if you were wondering.” Lorn mentions slowly. Jacaerys knits his brows together for the hundredth time that eve. “She used to follow you around like a puppy everytime she visited King’s Landing, she used to hide behind trees and peek as you trained with your brother and uncles.” Lorn chuckles. “I didn’t know…” Jacaerys whispers and looks away. “You used to watch her too.” Silence lingers in the cold, decayed air. “I know.” The prince speaks, looking down. “She was beautiful.” “Is beautiful.” “That does not matter! She is not meant to be mine…What if…” He swallows, an idea shooting through his mind. “What if I find the man? The man she was supposed to marry? Will the vow stay true?” Lorn stays quiet in conflicting thought. “I suppose but–” “Then I will find him!” Jacaerys splutters with relief. “I will speak with my Lady, apologise and find her true love!” “You must be warned of the time limit. Do not forget, young man.” Jacaerys nods quickly and begins scrambling away again. “I won’t!”

The Prince and His Corpse Bride Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings) @chompchompluke @its-actually-minicika @paranormal-fairy1984 @ntlycnrgl @hopelesswritergall

HOTD Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings) @wrendermedone @hopelesswritergall @blackdreamspeaks @its-actually-minicika @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly @adelusionalwriter

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wintervalewritersecond · 6 months

Text

tears to shed iv - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: last part! hope this makes up for the sad ending last part <3

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, happy ending

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

Your parents were much happier to hear that they were up in the social ladder now than that they were to hear that you had come back. Lord and Lady MacTavish also could not care less - as long as they got money, they would be set.

It is not like life with Johnny was bad. Not at all, actually. You had fun with him, and he was someone you feel comfortable with. He is so trustworthy, funny, and nice. It truly could have been so much worse.

The years pass, new people coming to the town, other people leaving. Babies are being born and elderly people are passing away. You aren't scared of death anymore - you have lived in it, you have loved in it.

Marriage to Johnny is like marrying a best friend. Both you and Johnny found out quite early on that you did love each other, yet more like friends or family instead of lovers. Not that you thought the other was ugly, mean, or uninteresting. It was just platonic, but to be quite honest, you did not mind.

You could be on the street, or worse, married to a horrible person. Lucky for you, you are 'stuck' with Johnny. Every single day felt refreshing, always going on trips or eating a delicious dinner. Your mother and father barely came to visit, saying they were much too busy with their new way of life. Lord and Lady MacTavish were also not seen very often, always far away, enjoying the money they now had.

Years seem to fly by.

The older you get, the faster time goes.

Your body is becoming weaker, the people around you have left, and the house feels much too big for only two people. It is winter now, and sickness is going around, a sickness that had also gotten the better of Johnny.

You sat by his side, his body covered with endless blankets, coughs coming from him ever so often.

"You are burning up," you mumble, your hand on his forehead.

He does not respond, only looking at the ceiling before finally turning his head to you. This is the most movement he has gone through this entire week. Johnny stays quiet for a moment, blinking slowly before licking his lips.

"Is the afterlife scary?"

"No," you softly say, taking hold of his hand, "It is fun, free, careless. You will have your own place, and you can have endless drinks at the bar. It is colourful and bright."

He hums, his hand softly squeezing yours as he looks past you.

"I think I would like to go there."

Your breath hitches in your throat, tears burning in your eyes as you look at him, bringing your other hand to his cheek.

"You do?"

Nothing but a hum yet again, his eyes looking past you.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Will you find me there?"

You nod, pressing a kiss to his hand.

"I will."

"Can you promise me something?"

Your heart feels heavy.

"Anything."

"After you find me... Also find Simon. That one man from years ago," he whispers, coughing, "If it... If it truly is as you said, then please, find him. Live the life you couldn't live now."

"Johnny," a tear falls down your cheek, "You are acting as if my life with you was not good."

"Oh, lass, we had a wonderful life. But the afterlife you describe... It is your second chance. Take it, please."

One last promise you make to him. Through sickness, through health, till death do you part.

"I promise you, Johnny. I love you so."

"And I love you."

After one last breath, one last blink, he leaves you. Leaves you behind as you did that one night, though you know he will not come back. More tears fall down your cheeks as you press a soft kiss to his forehead. Another friend lost.

You then spent months alone. No visitors, no Johnny, no parents.

It was weird.

The world seems so grey, so bleak, so colourless. There is nothing for you here. You eat just to eat, you read just to read. Everything seems meaningless. Another night where you go to sleep in a cold bed.

But this time, when you wake up, you feel different.

Your bones don't hurt, your limbs don't feel heavy, your hair doesn't feel brittle. Instead, you feel lively, weightless, free.

"A new arrival!"

Is the time finally here?

You open your eyes, the lights very bright, and you nearly can not believe what you see. It's the bar, the people, the music, the drinks.

"Wait..."

You quickly turn around, coming eye to eye with Johnny.

"Lass?"

You nod slowly, a smile forming on your face as you fling your arms around him.

"Oh, Johnny!" You pull away from him for a second, your hands on his cheeks, "I can't believe it! Oh, you look so young."

He does not nearly look the same as when you last saw him. His skin isn't wrinkly, his eyes are bright, and he has the same silly haircut.

"Says you," he grins, holding out his cup to you, "You look as mighty as ever."

You look at his cup and back at him. You are actually here. But, if you are... Is Simon here as well? Johnny still has a smile on his face, taking a swig from his beer. He knows what, or rather who, you are looking for.

"Go on," he nods his head to the exit, "We will have eternity to celebrate that you're here. Go, we can talk later."

You press a kiss to his cheek, nodding as you lift up the bottom of your skirt, walking up the stairs that lead to the outside of the bar. You are met with a mirror, right next to the door. You look so much younger, almost as if no time had passed. Dressed in a nightgown, your hair done up, looking youthful as ever. The age when you first got here, gone back in time, just like Johnny.

The roads, the coffins, the lights - all are exactly as you remember them being. You have dreamt of taking this exact walk dozens of times, clenching onto the dogtags that you had yet to take off. Now, you actually walk there, the tags tight in your hand. A left here, straight, and then...

You are so absorbed by your own thoughts that you do not register the person in front of you. You yelp, nearly falling over, but catching yourself by holding onto a crate.

"Oh, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"Y/N?"

You look up, you know that voice...

"Price?"

"I can't believe it!" He laughs, pulling you to him to give you a big hug, "You are here! Oh my god, wait until Simon hears about this. You are going to give him a heart attack!"

"Where is he?"

"At home," he backs off, nodding his head into the direction of the house, "Hasn't been out too much. Kept his mask back on, been in a real mood for a while. You know, he never got over you."

He still thinks of you?

"Neither have I," you whisper, looking up at the man.

"Oh, I know," he only shrugs, "Johnny and I have become well acquainted over these months. Sadly haven't been able to really talk to Simon too much, but I think that might change."

The two of you continue your way, only a few doors away from the love of your afterlife. What if he doesn't want to see you? What if you are not like how he expected? Maybe he does not wish for a life with you.

"Don't worry your little head, Y/N," Price whispers, stopping at the door, "I will leave you be. Come by the bar later?"

You nod, sending him a smile as he leaves you alone at the door. What now? Do you knock? You feel nervous, yet you don't feel the pounding of your heart or the sweat in your hands. You are excited, though you can't feel the butterflies in your stomach.

A soft knock on the door.

Was it not hard enough? What if he isn't home? What if he didn't hear? What if he acts like he doesn't hear so he doesn't have to answer-

"Price, I told ya, I don't want to go to the-" the door gets ripped open, revealing the masked man you have thought about each and every day, "pub."

"We don't have to if you don't wish to, Simon."

"Wh... Is that you?"

He grips your cheeks tightly, scared that if he lets go, you will disappear. His eyes scan your face, the rest of his face hidden behind the skull mask he wore when you met him. You nod as much as you can, but the tight grip barely allows for you to move. Within a second, you are in his arms, his arms around you and his head on top of yours. Even if you wanted to, you could never get out of this embrace.

"I can't believe it. You are here."

"I am here," you confirm.

"I have waited each and every day. Price told me your husband came here before you did."

You nod.

"He did. But he made me promise him something."

What did he promise? Should Simon be scared? Are you only here to say hello, only to never see him again?

"He wants me to have a second chance. To life my... afterlife, the way it was intended. With you."

He slowly lets go, looking down at you with big eyes. His tags still around your neck and you looking like an angel. Is this real? Someone, pinch him, though it will not work.

"With me?"

"Johnny and I were friends. Best friends, even," you whisper, holding onto Simon his hands, "He told me to find you, Simon. And, if you will have me, I would want to spend this eternity with you."

That is all that he has ever wanted to hear.

So, he gets down on one knee.

"Death made us part, but now brought us together," he kisses your knuckles, "May I ask you to be my wife, for now until forever?"

One hell of a way to ask you to marry him.

#simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #call of duty imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #corpse bride! ghost

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yandere-toons · 2 years

Note

would you write for the corpse bride? need to kiss emily so bad

“A kiss?” parroted Emily. She raised a hand to her mouth and pressed her bony fingertips to her lips, allowing a chuckle to slip past them.

Her blue hair swung around behind her as she spun in a circle, with her arms rising from her side and twirling through the air. “Why, I haven't been kissed in ages!”

Emily gyrated away from you in a slow manner resembling a graceful dance. The hem of her wedding dress flowed in the breeze, and her veil flew in the wind from its snug spot on the back of her head.

She had closed her eyes and was humming a quiet melody that rose and fell with her nimble steps.

Then, the song came to an abrupt end.

The crunching of grass beneath her shoes went silent, and she stood with her head down and her back facing you. “I wasn't sure if it would ever happen,” mumbled Emily, clasping her hands together and rubbing her fingers across the dead skin.

In her voice was the sorrowful call of a maiden waiting for someone to return. The look in her eyes was heartache, for she grieved the loss of so many dreams that came once her body lay stiff in the dirt.

A glimmer of hope arrived in the form of a smile when Emily turned to you. She crossed the cemetery and rested her arms around your shoulders, pulling you forward until your forehead touched hers.

Her lips were chapped and cracked and smelled faintly of rot, but you reciprocated. Although the moment was brief, it held a bittersweet significance.

Emily leaned back but kept her hands on your shoulders. “Maybe we can have the wedding here.”

#Yandere #Yandere x You #Yandere x Reader #Yandere Imagines #Yandere Drabble #Yandere Corpse Bride #Corpse Bride x Reader #Emily Corpse Bride #Corpse Bride Emily #Corpse Bride #Imagines #Gothic #Reader Insert #Yandere Writing #Gender Neutral Reader #X Reader #Fanfiction

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shamrockst4r · 1 year

Text

victor didn't deserve emily victor_ia, however? oh absolutely.

#corpse bride #tim burton #fanart #fem version #wlw #victor van dort #emily corpse bride #i imagine fem!victor to be more like her mother #and so male!victoria would be the one messing up the lines on the rehearsal #which would make victor_ mad and she'd just angrily storm out of church #and so to prove to [nobody] how easy it is she'd recite the vows in the woods just like the original #and that's where emily appears :]#emily wouldn't really care about the lover's gender she just craves true love #also the dead don't discriminate

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limesnlawnchairs · 3 months

Text

#halloweencore #valloween #halloween wedding #wedding #corpse bride #<- fucking misspelled that as corpse brie...can you imagine #black #white #cake #dessert

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ilyregulus · 5 months

Text

"I love you, but you're not mine." — Starchaser.

A/N: Hii, this is my first time writing something like this and english is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes and pls be kind.

The story is based on the movie "Corpse Bride" so some quotes are from there. I hope you guys like it :)

Word count: 2.9k

TW: they talk a lot about death.

“I'm not doing it.” Regulus said angrly while his mom forced him into the car.

“Oh but you so are, it's not like we asked for your opinion.” She replied risply, and to be honest, it's not like he had any hope of changing her mind, his parents never really cared about him, they cared about money, and right now, Regulus was just their way of getting it.

“What if we don't like each other, won't that be a problem?” He asked knowing that it would change nothing.

“As if that has anything to do with marriage. Do you suppose your father and I like each other?”

He actually never thought about that, in fact Regulus never thought about love at all, especially not his parents. But deep down he supposed they liked each other, at least a little. The thing is he didn't get how someone could do it, he understood very well about making alliances and how the rich must marry each other so they keep getting richer but shouldn't they like the person they were marrying or at least meet them first and have the right to choose?

Every step taken towards the mansion that would host the ceremony felt like a step towards the gallows, so while his parents talked to his soon to be parents in law, Regulus decided to take a walk through the large hall, enjoying his last minutes of his so-called freedom.

“Shit. You scared me.” A nice looking girl who was sitting by the piano said as he entered the room.

“I do apologize…You play beautifully.” He added sincerely.

“Thank you, mother won't let me near the piano, too passionate, she says…Anyway, I'm Victoria.”

“Oh.” It was all he could say for a while. “I'm Regulus.”

“I guess we weren't supposed to be seeing each other then.” She laughed.

“I suppose not.”

“Well, I always dreamt about this day, about getting married and finding someone I was deeply in love with, someone to spend the rest of my life with.” Victoria started saying.

“KILL ME” Regulus thought, what on Earth did he do to deserve this.

“Silly, isn't it?” She continued

“Yes, silly” He replied too fast.

He could apologize and he almost did but why would he? It's not like he was trying to make Victoria like him, in fact it would be really great if she didn't and somehow stopped this bullshit from happening. But she didn't stop anything and so the day arrived and there he was, standing at the altar, with his ganancious parents looking straight into his soul and there was nothing he could do.

Regulus didn't really put much effort into memorizing the vows and the amount of times he got it wrong and had to start again was getting annoying.

“This boy doesn't want to get married. How disgraceful!” Victoria's mom screamed.

“Enough! This wedding cannot take place until he is properly prepared. Young man, learn your vows.” Her father added.

He couldn't stand another minute of this, but he was going to learn it, it's not like he had another choice, and he really just wanted this day to end as fast as it could so, Regulus told everyone he would go for a walk in the woods nearby and would get back prepared, which seemed to satisfy both their families.

It really shouldn't be all that difficult. It's just a few simple vows.

“With this hand, I will take your wine. No. With this hand...I will cup your...Oh, fuck, no.With this…With this candle, I will...I will set your mother on fire.”

Oh, it's no use, he needed to do this. And so he said clearly.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring...I ask you to be mine.”

“I do.” He heard a whisper as everything went dark.

“What..? What the hell happened?” He asked as his green eyes adjusted to the light once again.

“Looks like we've got ourselves a breather.” An old man said.

“Does he have a dead brother?” Asked a weird woman.

“He was very much alive last time I checked.” Regulus replied not really sure why.

“A toast then. To the newlyweds.” The first man raised his glass.

“Newlyweds?” Seriously Regulus thought, what the fuck was going on???

“In the woods, you said your vows so perfectly.”

“WHERE THE HELL AM I?” He asked without any patience.

“Well, that's a long story, a tragic tale of romance, passion and murder.”

“Look, I don't…” Regulus started saying but then he saw him.

He was standing there, with a suit falling into pieces, but Lord, he was beautiful, he had those eyes, deep and warm, that was like staring right into the sun and begging to get burned by it, and, oh, how Regulus would beg.

“Our boy was a beauty known for miles around” Continued a woman who looked like she was dead for ages “When a mysterious stranger came into town, she was plenty good-looking but down on her cash, and our poor boy here, he fell hard and fast.”

“Whatever, let me go straight to the point, the green eyes here doesn't look like he's a fan of long stories” The man interrupted. “He was about to get married and woke up in the graveyard”.

He was dead??? Oh…now he got why they all looked a little blue and weird, and the breather thing and everything else but how could…Regulus was not dead, at least he didn't feel like he was.

“So he made a vow…” He realized the man was still talking. “To wait for his true love to come set him free, and then you came.”

“Yeah really heart touching, what a shame I'm nobody's love so how do I get the fuck out of whatever this place is?” Regulus said but not really sure if that was what he actually wanted.

Don't get him wrong, it’s not like he was loving this whole being dead thing, but he didn't really have anything worth living for up there.

“Regulus, right?” Said the good looking boy, who now appeared to be his…fiancé?

“Yes but look, that's a mistake, I'm alive and you wouldn't want to be married to a man anyway”. He didn't know why but he felt so awkward near him.

“Well, I wouldn't mind.” He smiled.

Regulus wanted to curse him in any possible ways, how could someone murdered on his wedding day be so nice and…handsome.

“But I would.”

“You would mind getting married to a boy? I thought alive people were getting more open minded.”

“They aren't, which sucks, I get it, that wasn't my point.” Why was he explaining himself to a dead boy anyway?

“So you would marry a boy?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Does it matter?”

“It does, Reg, since we are in fact married.”

REG.

He felt weak and Regulus Black does not feel weakness, he could feel his legs shaking and his lungs gasping for air, he has never, in his entire life, felt this way. There was something so magnetic about this boy, so charming and inviting that Regulus could almost hear their souls asking to collide. But Regulus didn't believe in love, did he?

“Look, I am terribly sorry about what's happened to you...and I'd like to help, but I really need to get home.” He said, trying not to look too much at the boy.

“This is your home now.”

“I don't even know your name and that's not a great way to start a marriage so I really should be going.”

“It’s James.”

Five letters had never made such a beautiful sound, Regulus could swear this name was made to be on his lips, he was sure he dreamed about it before. Who was he trying to fool, his parents weren't there to see anything and it's not like someone could hear his thoughts, Regulus Black did believe in love, he wanted it so badly, but he just couldn't, it's not what he was made for, love was not for him, besides, he was falling for a dead man, how ridiculous does that sounds?

“Does it hurt...dying?” He asked without thinking it would be disrespectful.

“No more than being alive.” James replied.

Regulus smiled, as horrible as it sounded he felt some kind of comfort in that.

“I almost forgot, I have something for you, a wedding present.” James said happily, giving him a black box with a red ribbon on it.

“Scraps?” He sounded confused as he looked at an amount of bones that was turning into a dog “Scraps! That's my dog Scraps!”

“I imagined you'd like to see him again.”

“He was my best friend…My only friend.” Regulus said with a sad tone in his voice. “Mother never approved of him, so she gave her way, but then again, she never approved of anything, and she always gives her way.”

James was hurt to see the boy like this, he wanted to hug him, to comfort him and say that with him he could have anything, James could love him, indeed he could, he wanted to. But instead he just asked a friendly question.

“Do you wanna go back home, Reg?”

No. He didn't want to, there was nothing up there for him and his mother was probably so furious that he would go back to where he was right now really quickly.

“Yes James, I must go.” Was what he replied.

“There may be a way of doing it.” James handed him a tiny bottle he took out of his pocket.

“Really?” Regulus said almost as if he did not believe it was that simple. “You have a magic potion with you all this time?”

“Well, I like to visit the living world sometimes…”

“And couldn't you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted you to stay.”

“You know that's selfish of you right?” Regulus asked, frustrated. “You're dead, I'm alive and besides that you don't even know me, we are not married James, can't you see that?”

If he knew the amount of sadness that would appear in James’ face he would've never said that because in Regulus' mind a boy like James was not meant for sadness, he was.

“But I could know you…” Was all he heard before drinking the potion and waking up in the woods again.

When he opened his eyes he realized he missed the fresh air in his skin, the smell of grass and the sounds of living nature, but deep inside he felt like he was letting something behind.

“Victoria?” He asked, entering the piano room once again.

“Regulus!” She exclaimed. “I was so worried, what happened? You're as cold as death.”

He thought it was funny that she said that.

“I'm sorry…I didn't want to get married and you deserve someone who does.” He was sincere when he said that, she seemed like a nice girl who was unfortunate to have the same fate as him.

“I know I do.” She replied with a smile. “And you deserve to do it only when you're ready to, but I don't think we're this lucky.

“This is going to sound really unexpected but…I guess I am already married.” Regulus told her.

“You what?”

“To me. He's married to me.” James said coming out of nowhere.

“He's dead.” Regulus hurried to say as if this could possibly make things better. The truth is he was feeling kinda euphoric to see James there, he doesn't deal well with emotions and this whole situation was very confusing. One of the reasons he left in such a hurry was that he didn't know what to say to James, and seeing him there was making his brain collapse.

“You lied to me.” James said betrayed. “You have somebody else.”

“Victoria is not somebody else, actually, you are.” He corrected.

“But you married me first”. What can he say, the boy got a point.

“This is not going to work, James.”

“Why not? It's my glasses, isn't it?” He asked worried.

“No, it's not your glasses, they are fine, they look…attractive.” Regulus hadn't thought about that before but the glasses did give James kind of a sexy look. “Listen, under different circumstances, well, who knows? But we're just too different. I mean, you're dead.”

“You should've thought about that before you asked me to marry you.” James seemed offended.

“Why can't you understand? It was a mistake. I would never marry you.”

Once again sadness became part of his face and once again Regulus regretted saying that. He was so divided between what he was supposed to do and what he wanted to, but he said one thing right, they were too different, they didn't even belong to the same world.

That was the thing about fate, this treacherous and invisible little thing that seemed to have so much power over him, he couldn't control it, and Regulus hated not being able to control things.

“Perhaps you do belong with her. Little Miss Living, with her rosy cheeks and beating heart.” He replied before disappearing into a cold and sad mist.

“Victoria, I don't know how to explain…” He began but was interrupted by her.

“You don't need to, I saw it in your eyes.” She said softly. “You want to be with him.”

Maybe she was right. He had never felt his heart beat that fast, ironic how James could make him feel so alive. But how could they do this? It was impossible for them to be together, it seemed like no one listened to the amount of times he told that he was alive while James was not and he was almost certain you couldn't bring someone back.

“I know what you are thinking, and you're right, but there's a way, you can be the one to join him.” She said as if it was a normal thing to say out loud.

“You're saying I should die?”

“For love, I would.” She explained how it should be done and left him alone to think.

Regulus sat by the piano and started playing some notes to distract himself, how could he make such a decision?

His life was lonely, empty, and surrounded by darkness, he knew that his only purpose was to serve his parents' orders and carry on the family legacy, but how much did that cost him? His freedom for sure, and maybe his soul was just fading along with it. There was nothing he could proudly say it was worth staying alive for, but maybe, just maybe he had something, or someone, worth dying for. And just like everything else that happened in his life, that was some dramatic shit.

And there he was, standing at the altar, with hungry eyes fixed on him, but with Victoria's kind and supportive smile telling him it was okay. And so he said.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine, James.”

“I now pronounce you man and wife…wait what?” He heard the priest say before his vision blurred and he woke up on the other side.

“Reg?” James asked kindly looking at his newly opened green eyes. It was like staring at the great wide ocean, full of beauty and mysteries, and James was desperate to dive in. He wanted to fill himself with his water, let his salt heal his wounds, and more than anything, he wanted to be part of it, just like Regulus was part of the dark sky. “You can't be here. I love you, Regulus. But you're not mine.”

“But I want to, James. I really do. You and Victoria made me realize that sometimes you need to take the threads of fate and trace them yourself, and so I did it, and now I am yours.” He declaired taking James hands.

“That was too much for me to ask, I couldn't have done this.” The boy answred sadly.

“You didn't. You just showed me that I do have feelings in my heart, deep ones, and I want to be embraced by it, I should be allowed to it, shouldn't I? I know now that there's love and beauty in death as much as there's pain and horror in living. I wasn't living James, I was destined for the void, I didn't even have a soul to call mine, and with you I have everything. You didn't asked me to do it, you just showed me the way and I was the one who decided to take the path.” Regulus didn't even know he had all those things inside him, all those words and those feelings, but now it was like he was meant to say it, he had never felt lighter, and nothing has ever felt this right.

“I thought I would never see you again.” Was all James said as he got closer and give him one small kiss pulling way for an instant, just so he could see a smile appearing in Regulus’ lips, and then doing it again.

When two worlds collided it felt like they were always one, like the stars and the sea were all just one big thing embracing the one who was meant for them, fate didn't look that treacherous now, it looked beautiful and it tasted like hope, like not even death could pull those two forces of the universe apart, because if Regulus was a star than James was the biggest one. For him, James was the sun.

“You set me free.” Said James.

“You did the same.” Regulus replied. “And if a heart can still break once it's stopped beating, please don't break mine.”

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the-faceless-bride · 2 years

Text

What would one call this type?

#slasher imagine #slashers x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slasher imagines #sweeney todd #sweeney todd x reader #tim burton #corpse bride #corpse bride x reader #victor x reader #yandere don't starve #don't starve x reader #wilson x reader #wilson higgsbury

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eddievanhammettmunson · 1 year

Text

Corpse husband with Eddie

Undead Eddie x female reader

Author’s note- I wanted to make the corpse bride with Eddie. BUT I always wanted corpse bride to end with victor and Emily getting married so that’s what I’ve done here. If this does well or if people want it I will make an esternate where the reader ends up with Steve. 4.6k words

Warnings- death and lots of it. Technically suicide. Not proofread.

Summary- when you’re set to marry the lovely Steve Harrington but you keep messing up your vows you go to the forest to clear your head. But you end up somewhere well….dead.

It was supposed to be a glorious day. A glorious day for a wedding rehearsal between you and your soon to be husband Steve Harrington. But somehow you knew it was doomed from the start. Hell you didn’t even know the guy outside of the rumors you’d heard about him in highschool. The wedding was arranged by both of your parents and neither of you got a say in it.

When you got to the wedding rehearsal however your nerves were somewhat calmed when you happened to meet your soon to be husband in the foyer while you were hiding from your parents. You were surprised that he was not only was he just as handsome as you remembered from highschool but he was nice. Well as nice as someone being married off by their parents can be.

He had been sweet and funny and all around charming and you actually were able to believe for a second that maybe a marriage with him wouldn’t be so bad. That was until your parents showed up again and forced you two to join the rehearsal.

The rehearsal hadn’t gotten very far. There you were standing at the altar and all you had to do was say your vows. “With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for i will be your wine. With this candle I will light your way in darkness. With this ring I ask you to be mine.”

Simple enough yet for some reason you managed to trip over and forget almost every word. Your parents were humiliated. Steve’s parents were furious. Suddenly the officiant stops the rehearsal and turns to you.

“This Wedding cannot happen. Not until you have learned your vows young lady.”

You stood there for a moment before turning and running out of the room without looking back. You refused to make eye contact with anybody in the room lest you feel their disappointment. Even when you hear Steve calling after you. You refuse to turn and face him.

You run out of the building and you run and run until you find yourself alone in the woods. You begin to walk very slowly. Muttering to yourself about how stupid you believe you are. You then twist the engagement ring on your finger and you begin to rehearse your vows.

“With this hand I will….I will…. Drown in sorrow? No no no. Okay with this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cups will never empty for i will be your wine. With this candle I will…. Light your father on fire it seems Jesus Christ I can’t do this.” You stop and see a bench in the middle of a clearing in the forest. You remember this bench from high school. People used to come out here to do drug deals.

You take a seat on the bench and take a deep breath. When you open your eyes you decide to try saying your vows one more time. “With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for i will be your wine. With this candle I will light your way in darkness. With this ring I ask you to be mine.” You slam your hands down on the bench in triumph.

Standing from the bench you look at the little ring on your engagement finger and you sigh twirling it a bit. You begin to pace and speak to yourself.

“I just thought my life would have a greater purpose rather than getting married…not that I don’t wanna get married….” You sigh “i just thought it would be my decision. Just cause I’m getting married doesn’t mean I can’t find a greater purpose. Okay one more time for luck. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for i will be your wine. With this candle I will light your way in darkness. With this ring I ask you to be mine.” You slide the ring off of your finger and put it on the bench.

As soon as the ring touches the table there’s a shift in the atmosphere. The forest is suddenly colder than before. The wind is blowing wildly and you can hear the snapping of branches in the distance.

Suddenly from the distance you see a bunch of crows swarming around a tree. And from that tree emerges a tall man. Or what appears to be a man. As he stalks towards you he whispers two words.

“I do”

You begin to run. Not caring about direction. Just needing an escape. As you run your met with branches and twists and turns and crows all around you.

You make it back In to town. You see the building for the wedding rehearsal and you think you’re safe. You take a deep breath and turn towards the building only to be met face to face with the man.

This is the first time you get to see him up close when you’re not running. You can see gashes along his face and body. Exposed bone poking through at his arms and legs. Flesh ripped away across his body. His skin was pale beyond comprehension. His eyes were wide and dark. And the worst part is you recognized him.

There wasn’t much time to comprehend anything before he spoke.

“May I kiss the bride?” He began to lean in and you wanted to scream. But as he leaned in you were swarmed by dozens of birds and suddenly everything started to fade away into the sounds around you. Then everything went black.

***

As you began to open your eyes you hear voices and murmuring surround you.

“Looks like we got a new arrival”

“I think she fainted on the way here”

“Lemme get closer i want to see her”

As you open your eyes you feel a boney hand on the back of your neck helping to support you. You blink your eyes a few times and try to adjust.

“Wh-what’s happened to me?” You ask as you sit up and take in your surroundings.

“Holy shit man! I think she’s breathing? Is-is she alive?”

Your eyes snap open very wide as you look around at the people helping you. You stand up and back up against a slimy vine filled wall.

There he was. Eddie Munson. The boy who died in the earth quake a year ago. Next to him? Billy Hargrove. The boy who died in the mall fire. Next to him was Barbra. The student who died due to being exposed to chemicals from that lab.

As you look around the room your met with the sights of the dead from all around Hawkins. People you used to know. And suddenly you had the dreaded thought.

“Am I dead?” You look around the room and nobody answers until you look to Eddie.

“Nope sweetheart. You’re all good. Alive and well and flesh and bone.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. But then you inhale sharply again. If you weren’t dead then where the hell were you. And why were you here?

As you look around the room you see Billy and a girl you used to know named heather. She takes a drink of something and toasts to Billy and then looks to you.

“To the newlyweds!” Her and Billy say together.

“N-newlyweds?” You say in confusion.

Eddie strides over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Yeah sweetheart. You said your vows so perfectly.”

“I did? I did!” You turn around and begin to smash your head into the wall.

“WAKE UP!!!! WAKE UP!!!!!!”

As you slam your head into the wall you feel a hand on your shoulder so you turn around to see a tall boney man handing you a drink.

“Hello I’m Benny. I’m the head chef down here. I will be creating your weddin feast!”

You gasp and step back bumping into Eddie. Suddenly Eddie’s eye pops out and a little Maggot appears.

It looks to you and begins to speak. “Wedding feast! I’m starving!”

You attempt to move away from Eddie but everywhere you turn there are more dead people. People you used to know. Everything has you petrified until you back into a counter with a knife on the table. You grab hold of the knife and life it into the air.

“Everybody stop!”

The rooms freezes and turns to you.

“I need answers. What the hell is this place. How are you all here?”

Eddie laughs and steps towards you. “Well that’s kind of a long story.”

“A tragic tale it is. A tale of adventure, passion, and a murder most foul.” You turn towards the voice and see a man sitting at a table. You recognize him as the founder of Hawkins AV club. He used to date Miss Byers until he died tragically a few years back.

The room falls quiet as the man begins to tell the story.

“Well our boy was a freak. Known for miles around. When a mysterious man began to plague our town. He was plenty hideous and had a plan to hash. And our poor little boy got roped in fast. So when Eddie’s friends tried to help him he just couldn’t cope. So our mystery man came up with a plan to interlope. So the crew conjured up a plan to meet late at night. They told not a soul kept the whole thing tight. They were prepared to bring down the mystery man with a good old fight. He didn’t bring much just a shield and a spear. Waiting all night to fight the man. Then when the time came our boy was a hero. But with the last of his strength the mystery man summoned all his bats and had the boy eaten to death. Now when he opened his eyes he was dead as dust. His spear was missing and his heart was bust. So he made a vow lying under that sky that he’d wait for his true love to come set him free. Waiting for someone to ask for his hand. Then out of the blue comes this woman who vows forever to be by his side. And that’s the story of our corpse husband.”

As you process everything the man just told you. You feel two boney arms wrap their way around your waist and it makes you jump. And run away out of the room. You run all the way until you’re in the middle of a forest again. You recognize the forest as Hawkins but it’s different. It’s covered in vines and tentacles and it’s disgusting. But you run anyways. Until you reach that familiar bench. Your stop to take a breath and you turn around only to be met with Eddie once again.

You scream and jump back at the sight of him.

He hold his hands up in surrender. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckles and steps forward.

“Look y/n I know this can be a lot to take. How about we just sit down on the bench and you can ask me whatever you want and I’ll tell you.”

You hesitate and then sit back on the bench.

“Okay. What is this place.”

“It’s called the upside down. It’s like Hawkins but full of creepy crawlers and nasty shit.”

“How are you all here? I mean you’re all dead.”

“I don’t know sweetheart. I wish I did.”

You sat there for a moment and took a deep breath.

“So we’re married?”

“Yupperoonie.”

“Look Eddie I’m terribly sorry about what happened to you and how you died. I really am. But I need to get home.”

“This is your home now y/n”

“Eddie you can’t be serious. I’m alive. I have a life. Family to get back to.”

“Well we can go say goodbye if you want?”

“You’d let me do that?”

“Sweetheart I’d let you do anything.”

“Well how do we get there?”

“We have to dig through the tree to get there. It’s pretty easy from our side since the tree is rotten. Getting back here to the upside down is the hard part. You’ll have to be quick so that the tree gate doesn’t close.”

Eddie stands and walks to a nearby tree where he starts ripping into it with his bare hands. Once the tree is opened he gestures for you to come over and he pretends like he’s holding the door open for you as he bows and allows you to crawl through the tree.

You come out on the other side in a normal looking Forrest near the bench you once knew. You debate on what you’re supposed to do. Deciding to tell Eddie to stay in the forest while you go say goodbye to your family when really you were going to seek out Steve and get his help.

“Eddie. I think you should stay here while I say goodbye to my family.”

“You’re probably right. I don’t think they’d be very approving of me….even if I were alive honestly.”

There’s a strange feeling of guilt in your chest when he says that. You remember him from High school and although you weren’t close you always knew him to be a nice person who happened to be a bit boisterous. If anything you found his lunch time antics entertaining.

“I’ll be back in a jif eddie.”

And with that you were off through the forest. You made your way to the Harrington estate and saw the light to Steve bedroom on. The only problem was his room was on the second floor. As you snuck around the house and looked for an entry point you stumbled upon the kitchen window where you see Mr and Mrs Harrington sat at the table having a discussion.

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do about that girl. Can’t even learn her vows.”

“You’re right. This isn’t good for our business deal.”

“Maybe we should just let Steve marry that Wheeler girl like he’d wanted.”

Upon hearing that your mind flashes to images of Nancy Wheeler and her relationship with the king Steve Harrington. Still you persist and move past the window making your way round the house to where you see some vines to grab to climb up to Steve’s room.

You carefully place your feet on the vines and begin your climb. When you reach the second floor you see Steve sitting on the edge of his bed and you can hear him on the phone.

“Yeah Nance…..I know….maybe she doesn’t want to marry me.”

He’s on the phone with Nancy? You watch as he continues to talk on the phone until you hear a loud SNAP of a branch coming from below you and suddenly you’re plummeting towards the ground.

You scream and close your eyes and brace yourself for the hard impact that doesn’t come. Instead you’re enveloped by two large arms that break your fall. You open your eyes to see Eddie holding you.

As you look up at him you realize he’s fuming. Absolutely angry beyond belief.

“Steve?”

“What?”

“Why are you at Steve Harringtons house?”

“W-well. Well he’s my fiancé.”

“But I’m your husband. And we’re leaving.”

Still in his arms he carries you back into the Forrest and through the tree to the upside down. When you get back into the upside down he sets you down and walks over to the bench and sits down and puts his face in his hands.

“And I thought this was all going so well.”

You walk up to him and place a hand on his shoulder.

“Look Eddie I’m sorry. But this just can’t happen.”

“Why not? It’s my eye isn’t it?”

“No your eye is lovely. But Eddie were just to different. I mean you’re dead.”

“You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you.”

“Why can’t you understand it was a mistake Eddie!! I would never ask you to marry me!”

As soon as the words leave your mouth you feel instant regret as you watch Eddie slowly rise from the bench and wander off towards the town.

***

As Eddie wanders on his own he ponders his relationship with you. And the maggot in his eye pops out and slithers onto his shoulders. Eddie sits down against a wall and sighs.

“Maybe she’s better off with Mr I have a pulse. Maybe she’s right.”

“Oh that guys nothing compared to you Eddie.”

“But she’s right. I’m dead. She’s alive.”

“But did she say her vows to him?”

“Well no…. But she doesn’t leave me.”

“She just needs to see how special you can be Eddie.”

“If I touch a burning candle I can feel no pain

If you cut me with a knife it's still the same

And I know his heart is beating

And I know that I am dead

Yet the pain here that I feel

Try and tell me it's not real

It seems that I still have a tear to shed”

“Oh Eddie don’t worry she’ll come around and see the amazing man that you are.”

***

In the forest where Eddie left you, you gather some dead flowers into a bouquet and walk towards the town where you search for Eddie. You ask around to some of the dead people in town and they tell you that you can find Eddie in an old trailer on the other side of town. So that’s where you go.

When you get there you find him sitting on the porch strumming his guitar. You walk up quietly and set the bouquet on porch next to you.

“I’m sorry Eddie. I’m sorry I lied to you about seeing my family. It’s just-this day. Nothing has gone according to plan.”

He says nothing as he strums his guitar. Instead you pick up a guitar that was sitting next to him and that says “this machine slays dragons” and you begin to strum a tune similar to the one he’s strumming. And you continue to strum until you’re creating a beautiful medley together.

Eddie begins to get so into it that his boney hand detaches from his body and begins a riff all on its own and even hops onto your guitar and runs up your arm and around your shoulders. Making both you and him laugh.

“Sorry about the enthusiasm.”

“I like your enthusiasm Eddie.”

You grab the hand that’s on your shoulder and his empty wrist and you reattach the hand to his arm. When you should let it go you don’t. Instead your hand lingers there. You look into Eddie’s eyes and see him looking back at you. You clear your throat and look back down at the guitar.

“I really am sorry Eddie. I should have been honest with you.”

“Don’t worry about it y/n I get it. You’re dead and I’m alive.”

“If it’s any consolation Eddie I wouldn’t have any qualms about marrying you if you were alive.”

He laughs and sets the guitar down next to him.

“Now that I find hard to believe.”

“Really Eddie I mean it. I remember you from high school. How sweet you were to all the weird kids. How boisterous and brave you were. I mean you were amazing.”

“I was a freak.”

“Stop that. You’re not a freak Eddie. You’re awesome is what you are.”

“I’m dead is what I am.”

You’re about to say something when suddenly people are running past you and towards the forest. You stop one of them and ask them what’s going on.

“NEW ARRIVAL.”

Is all they yell at you before they continue on their way to the Forrest. When you get there everyone is excited and bustling around the way they were when you’d arrived. That’s when you see him. Tommy H. Steve’s ex best friend.

“Tommy!?” He turns to face you.

“Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here! Tommy you’re dead? What happened?”

“Was drinking and driving and well bam now I’m here.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah and I’m sorry to hear you and Steve didn’t work out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well didnt you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“He’s marrying Nancy Wheeler tomorrow.”

Your heart doesn’t break but your chest feels a twinge of disappointment to know that you’d gone missing for a day and instead of looking for you your fiancé just moves on to another girl.

“Time to pick up the pieces and move on I suppose right y/n.” He puts a hand on your shoulder and then turns to move about the room.

You begin to think on his words. He may be right. You’ve been in this place for almost a whole day and it seems like nobody even cares that you’re gone. And the one person who does care about you, you’ve treated like absolute garbage. You walk back off alone into the Forrest and to the bench you originally started at.

You sit down and examine the wedding band on your finger. That’s when you hear Eddie’s voice in the distance.

“Oh billy what am I supposed to do? She just walked off! Are all women like this?”

Billy laughs and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Im afraid so man. I’m afraid so. But we’ve got something to talk about man.”

You nestle up against a tree and listen closely to their conversation.

“Let me tell him!” The magot says.

“Shhhhh. Well man there’s a problem with your marriage.”

“What?!”

“Well your vows are binding until death do you part.”

“Uh huh. So?”

“Well man. Death has already parted you. You’re dead and she’s alive. Can’t work.”

“Dude if she finds out she’ll leave! There has to be something we can do!”

“Don’t worry man there’s a way.”

“What is it?”

“We have to kill her!!!”

“WHAT?!”

“Y/n would have to give up the life she had forever. She would need to repeat her vows and drink the venom of the demobats.”

“But the venom of the demobats would kill her just like it did to me.”

“Exactly Eddie. She’d be dead with you.”

You’re taken aback and shocked as you peak around the tree. Eddie thinks on it for only a moment before dropping to his knees in the forest.

“I could never ask her to do that for me.” He says in a low and quiet voice.

You look at Eddie on the ground. You think back to him in highschool and how sweet he was, you think back to him catching you earlier and saving you. To holding his hand and playing the guitar with him. And decide to step out from behind the tree.

“You don’t have to.” You say quietly as you walk up to him and offer your hand for him to stand up. He looks up at you with tears in your eyes.

“Y/n if you do this…there’s no going back. Do you understand?”

As Billy says this and Eddie stands fully you wrap your hand around Eddie’s tighter and intertwine your fingers as you look at him.

“I do.”

***

You walk back into the town and gather all the dead.

“HELLO EVERYBODY. We’ve decided to do this thing properly. So father what you can and meet us at Hawkins high school!”

Everyone is overjoyed as they begin to prepare for the wedding. Benny starts on the cake, Billy and heather are on decorations. And Barbra is helping you with your wedding dress.

You go to the town and break the window of a shop covered in vines and you find an exquisite dress to wear. Barbra does your hair and before you know it you’re meeting back at the school.

***

At the school you walk into the gymnasium to see rows of the dead sitting and facing Eddie at the altar who is now wearing a suit. On a table nearby there’s a towering cake and a lot of food.

Billy stands next to Eddie as the officiant. In his hands he holds a cup which you can only assume to be the venom of a demobat inside. Once your presence is noticed the crowd starts singing “here comes the bride.”

You take that as your queue to begin walking down the isle. As you do you look to Eddie who is smiling as he wipes a tear from his eye.

You reach the altar and stand in front of Eddie.

“Hi” you mouth at him and he mouths it back. You giggle a little.

“Dearly beloved and departed we are gathered here today to join this woman and this corpse in marriage. Living first.”

You take a deep breath and raise your hand.

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows, your cup will never empty for i will be your wine. With this candle I will light your way in darkness. With this ring I ask you to be mine.”

“Now Eddie.”

“With this hand I will lift your sorrows, your cup will never empty for i will be your wine. With this candle I will light your way in darkness. With this ring I ask you to be mine”

He places one of his own rings onto your finger. And you take off your wedding band and place it on his pinky.

You then take the cup from Billy and hold it in your hands as you look at Eddie. You go to take a sip but his hand flies to the top of your cup.

“Y/n” he whispers. “Are you sure about this?”

You take your own hand and bring it up to ciò his face.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

You remove his hands from atop the cup and quickly take a swig of the venom. It burns as it goes down so badly that it makes you drop the cup from your hand as you begin to cough. Your coughing is so bad that you bend over and Eddie reaches out a hand to steady you. The pain only lasts for a moment as you collapse into his arms and see nothing but total darkness.

As you awaken you look up into Eddie big brown eyes and you reach out a now pale hand to cup his face. You realize you no longer have to breathe and you no longer have a heart beat you just feel cold.

You move to stand and he stands with you.

“You May now kiss the bride.”

Eddie looks at you for approval and you give him a slight nod before leaning in and sealing you marriage with a kiss. The crowd cheers and goes wild at the kiss and Eddie grabs you closer to him and dips you towards the floor. When he brings you back up and the two of you break from the kiss he rests his forehead against yours.

“Ready for eternity sweetheart?”

The end.

156 notes · View notes

thegreatestsandwich · 2 years

Text

A Guiding Sea (Dream of Endless x Corpse Bride!Reader) - Part 1

Pairing: Morpheus x Corpse Bride!Reader

Word count: 8k

Summary: In a desperate attempt to free himself from the Burgess prision, Morpheus decides to wed the ghost of a bride who haunted the basement he was being held at. But not all decitions are bright, and Morpheus soon would learn that freedom came at a cost.

Warning: Mentions of blood, sacrifice, vaguely death, characters you will hopefully hate and more stuff

A/N: So this is part 1! it took me quite a while, I know, I know, it’s not as long as you hoped but I promise there would be more things to come, I actually pretty proud of the second part and the third one (spoiler, the third one is still my favorite by far.) I recomend listening to really sad taylor swift songs, and I hope you can feel a few specific ones on this one as I listened to them in repeat. By the way, every comment, reblog or even question is happily accepted! And ignore my english, I really suck at it :’)

Every story has a sad beginning

“I think I've seen this film before And I didn't like the ending” -Taylor Swift

In the world of symbolisms, the sea represent the beginning of life itself, it represents the darkness paths of the human life, the beautiful formlessness chaos that surrounded all living creatures, a world of unknown.

His arrival became the town’s gossip, a man who just lost his wife on a fire that burned everything he had, a father with two little kids to take care of a man of business. He bought Fawney’s Rigs manor from a local demon exorcist, yet he was never seen before. Some claim he needed a bit of time to arrange a few things before he made his grand introduction, others said he was a demon himself and his kids were two orphans he kidnapped. But in reality, he just love the solace of the unknowingness.

Roderick Burgess was his name, a tall and slender man, one look at him and you would understand that this man never spend a day working under the sun to survive in this world, his dirty blond hair and blue eyes full of secrets was his part of his charisma, he was not handsome yet he attracted the attention of the others with his way with words. He was smarter than he portrayed himself as, a genius in other words. Rich and warmness laced around his voice wherever he spoke. His smile captivating and his movements always with grace.

He introduce himself on one of the town’s festivities, paying for all the towns drinks, a courtesy from his persona, a token of his gratitude as he appreciated these few days without interruption. He introduced his sons, Randall and Alex, both a perfect image of his father.

But his sons were different from him, Alex, the youngest one of the two was a complete reflection of his father, yet his nervousness made him difficult to achieve his same results, while Randall was a complete opposite, always rebelling himself from the mold his father created for the two of them. He was proud of his mistakes, always bragging he was the only one who could made them right. Tall and charismatic as his father, Randall always thanked the lord every single night that he looked more than his mother than his father. He inherited her dark unruly hair and her green eyes. An image of a perfect future husband.

Within the years, Roderick Burgess gain the town’s trust, some described him as a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted, his hard work and his insistence of achieved perfection only gained him the reputation of a honorable man. There were rumors in the darkest parts of the town of his insistence of conquering Death, of wanting to keep cheating his way around it and live years beyond what was known at the time.

As the years passed, his popularity grew, the town began worshiping the path he walked on, whatever he said was sacred and anything he despise was burned to the ground. With time he formed a secret club, most believed he was destined to greatness, to domain the art of magic, while those who began questioning his sanity became banished from society.

Your parents were part of his most devoted followers, both grateful of his actions, as it was his hand and his words that helped them to become pregnant with you. The moment you were born he was present, and he was the first one to welcome you at the land of the living, whispering how you would have a beautiful path ahead of you. You were raised believing everything he said, his emotions were yours, his words were law and his actions were meant to become history. You hated him with passion.

Your constant presence on Fawney Rig’s manor became the catalyst of your doom. Randall became infuriated with you, at first it started with the typical children’s fights, a tug of your hair here and there, the stealing of your sweets and in result you wanted to punch his face, your father approved of your dedication and encourage you, asking to come get him when you decided to get your revenge while your mother grounded you because of your violence.

Randall became a constant presence on your life, he force his way into the position of best friend and on the first night of snow, he gave you a scarf he knitted himself without any help, it was a horrible scarf, a mismatched creation of colors and too breakable for usage. But you loved it anyway and used it with much care.

He kissed you under the mistletoe and declare his love for you.

You accepted it and gave yours to him.

It was forbidden but exciting, both of you knew that your parents (especially your dad who claimed he would strangle any guy who would dare to kiss you) would killed both of you. Randall loved the secrecy, the secret meetings on the middle of the night, he would always tell you he didn’t need more, that you were enough and he was hoping he was enough for you.

On your twenty-one birthday he planted a whole garden for you, he went beyond himself and looked for beautiful and exotic plants, claiming that they could be beautiful but nowhere near as you.

That garden became your sanctuary. The moon became your only witness, and he became what you needed to survive.

To the others, this day was no different to the others, but for Randall, the moment the moon step into the sky, this night would mean everything to him, hoping his plan would go swiftly. He began whistling around the empty halls, taking full advantage of his father’s meeting.

His feet carried him towards his father’s office, opening carefully and he went inside. Randall closed the door carefully and observed his surroundings, his father was an organized man and he was grateful for that.

After grabbing what he needed, Randall walked faster towards the kitchens and looked for your basket. His eyes found it.

‘Meet me at our place when the moon is at its highest point?’

Randall placed the little note inside your fruit basket, he tried to memorize your schedule but your mother always changed it each week, he knew she suspected your meetings, and there were a few occasions she almost caught the both of you.

After your first meetings, both of you became noticeable tired, bags under your eyes, words suppressed by a few yawns and your movements weren’t sharp. Perhaps your parents gave you a bit more freedom but Roderick wasn’t your parents, he was more strict and harsh with his sons. Wanting them to learned his footsteps, Alex was in the right path, always seeking the approval of his father but Randall was different.

If you put Randall and Alex against each other, you would notice the differences between the both of them. Alex always followed Roderick’s words, his words were his law and even as Randall understood why his little brother wanted to succeed like his father, he also wanted more for him, Alex was smart on his own way, but his true self was far more empathic than the grand Roderick Burgess. Randall always was thankful of the moments he manage to had with his mother, she was a beautiful lady, inside and outside, and sometimes even wonder why a pathetic man like his father was able to get an intelligent and charismatic lady.

His mother was soft and always accepted their mistakes, Randall didn’t care to make his father proud, he only dreamed to make his mother proud and happy with the decisions he took on his life. His ideologies always lied somewhere else, far beyond the beliefs of his father, he wanted to be free, to travel the world, to discover the secrets out there. He didn’t care about the magic or the society, he didn’t want to be trapped, Randall was a free soul, he deserve to fly far away from this prison.

Sometimes he pity Alex, as he idea was to stay behind. He really pity him.

You tried your best to be quiet as you opened your window. There was bad ideas and going out of the window to meet your secret boyfriend was one of those. The first leg out was easy, the second one was easier, but the fall and pain that comes with your idiotic decision began questioning your intelligence.

A part of you hated not changing for something more comfortable but you needed to made the impression that you were actually going to bed, and even then you actually had to pretend to sleep as your father stayed with you a few minutes, talking about completely random stuff, you loved your father and appreciate his way of trying to understand parenthood but tonight, you just wanted him to go to bed.

You landed on your back, silently cursing Randall for all he was putting you through, you stood up limping and quickly fix your night dress. The night was cold as the beginning of winter was approaching fast. You began walking towards you meeting place, the first steps were hard as your legs were screaming in pain but you ignored it. Your mind beginning to form a huge speech of how he was at fault with your pain.

You saw him sitting under a tree, his eyes were close but you notice how tense he was, the words on his note were simple and you hoped whatever he wanted to talk about this late at night was something light and not heartbreaking.

“Excuse me good sir,” You deepened your voice, it sounded funny as his face began breaking into a smile. “You seem to be far away from your sleeping quarters.”

His head turned towards your voice, smile full on display. “I am truly sorry officer, I am afraid I’ve been waiting for this fair maiden and I did not notice how quickly time passed.”

“Fair maiden?” You asked, still faking the voice. “Perhaps this fair maiden had some trouble walking fast?”

He hummed in contemplation. “I do not think so, she is quite slow and looks like a org.” His smile widened. “You might have seen her, a tiny little bit, when she gets mad she turns green, drools while she sleeps.”

You frowned, taking off your -his- scarf and began hitting him with it. “You idiot! Here I am, really late at night -thanks to you- and you compare me with an ogre?!”

Randall began laughing loudly, “Wait! Wait!” You paused, your eyes squinted. “You would make a really cute ogre.”

“You ass!” You began hitting him again but he didn’t care, he grabbed both of your arms and put them around his neck. Randall began swaying softly, gently massaging your waist.

“You are late.” He whispered against your temple. “One more second of waiting and I would have left”

You scoffed at his antics, closing your eyes, “Well, do not let me stop you, oh mighty Randall Burgess, I did not know your time was gold.”

He hummed in contemplation then playfully sighed. “So, how do you plan on repay me for my kindness?”

“Repay you for your kindness?” You gasp offended.

“Well, of course,” He put a strand of hair behind your ear. Still whispering “As the greatest and kindest soul here on Fawney’s Rig, I stayed here, waiting for your arrival with eagerness. So,” tilted his head down, lips softly touching yours. “How will you repay me, my darling?”

You closed the distance smiling, finally kissing him. You slowly back away but still having his arms around your form. “Better?” You whispered.

He hummed, his eyes still closed, enjoying the feeling of your warm body against him. “Love the kiss, still no close to repay me for my kindness.”

“Oh you little shi…” His hand quickly covered your mouth, he felt your laugh against it.

“Dear Lord! Who would teach such unhinged words to this young, pure and lovely lady! I must find them and punish them for their sins!”

You playfully pushed him away “You sir, are an idiot. Now,” You began walking towards the fountain. Sitting carelessly on the concrete basin, ignoring the fact that you were getting wet. “Are you going to tell me why did you ask me to come here? Because it’s later than our usual meeting time.”

Randall smiled happily, holding three fingers in front of his chest, “You now the game, my darling. Three guesses, two clues and one price...Please indulge me, I really prepare a lot for this.”

You sighed tiredly, “Fine.”

He kneeled in front of you, clearing his throat. “And now, please present your first guess.”

Your lips pursed in concentration, trying your hardest to not laugh at his antics. “My first guess is that your father decided to finally move back into his real true home…Hell.” You sarcastically smiled.

“Ha, funny and as much as I want that to be true, sadly it’s not.” He grabbed your hand and kissed one finger. “You may now ask for your first clue.”

“Is your father part of this surprise?” You flickered his nose, softly laughing at his frown.

He nodded in response. “Yes and no, ready for your next guess?”

“Hey! That’s not helpful!”

“I don’t make the rules sweetheart.”

“You invented this game, these rules are practically yours but fine, play dirty, I don’t care–,” You paused again, there was only two more guesses before the finishing this game, you needed to be smart about this. “My second guess is that you are cheating and you faked this surprise to just come and see me.”

“Clever but not quite,” He sat at your feet, his arms laid on your knees, his fingers playing with yours. “Second and final clue?”

“Mmhh, did you buy it?”

“Buy it? No, did I acquire it? Yes, that third clue was from the generous of my heart, by the way.”

“Generous, sure.” You kissed his forehead. “I’m ready to make my final guess.”

“Go ahead, gorgeous.”

“Are we finally leaving from this place?” You whispered, hoping his answer was yes.

“Soon, you know I always keep my promises, but no, not yet.” His eyes shined with happiness, “Ready to see your surprise?” You nodded, the hand that was kept behind his back moved between the two of you. It was a small black velvet box, you gasped, your eyes widened in surprise at his actions. “It’s not much, kinda had to stole it from my father’s security safe. It belonged to my mom, was her favorite ring or something, don’t have the full story, my grandparents are really bad at telling it.”

He opened the box, it was a simple ring gold ring with a small purple stone. It was perfect. “It’s an amethyst, my mom always believed that amethysts were supposed to help opening the heart to experience love, corny; I know.” He paused, his hand grabbing yours, searching your eyes for confirmation, you nodded with a soft smile. He smiled back and carefully put the ring on your finger. “I know this is not what you wanted, that you really hoped to just grab our stuff and leave this place, but I am working on it, it has taken some time but I almost finish with some things before that. I just hope you can wait just a bit longer.”

“So your idea of asking me to wait longer is to propose?” You laughed.

“Not really, this is my idea of finally have grown a pair and ask you to be mine, which you just accepted and there’s no going back now!”

“That’s not how proposals work Randall.” You rest your forehead with his. “I could still say no.”

“You could, but between you and I, we both know I am not a good-looking crier.” He kissed your ringed finger. “Give me a few days and we go somewhere far away, change our names with something completely outrageous, get married and had days and days full of love making, yeah?”

“I can’t wait.” You smiled.

Silence surrounded both of you, his fingers still caressing your new ring, you loved these moments between the both of you, imagining a future with Randall, away from your crazy families.

“I have to talk you.” He whispered, it was so quiet you almost missed it. “My dad talked to me yesterday.” You hummed, turning your attention towards him. “It’s about the war.”

“What about it?”

“He wants me to go,” Randall paused, noticing your body becoming tense at the words, “Look, I know, but the sooner I go the sooner I can comeback and take you away from here.”

You stood up, pushing him away. “Are you demented? One does not go to war and come back in one piece.”

“Well I will be the exception!”

“No.” You firmly stated. “No, Randall, just no!”

“My father promise me…”

“Oh yes, of course! If your father promise you something then he will fulfill it! Just like he promise I would stop cleaning the floors! And guess what Randall? I am still cleaning them!”

“You don’t understand.” He grabbed your hand. “He knows there is someone, he knows about my feelings, he knows I plan to ask someone to marry me, okey maybe I just asked you and he doesn’t know, but still. This is progress, he is willing to let choose my own fate.”

You scoffed, walking away from him. “This is your father, he would never stop choosing your path.”

“Why is it so hard to believe?” He whispered, “I don’t want to fight, not with you, never with you.”

“Then stop, think about this.” You hissed angrily. “This is no child’s game Randall, this is war, people die in war.”

“And I’m not going to die, I’m coming back.” Randall tried to assure you.

“How can I trust your words? War is no forgiving Randall, your father knows what he is doing sending you there.” You chocked around your words. “How can I be sure you will come back?”

“Because I’m coming back for you, only you, no matter how broken my body ends up, I’m coming for you.” He grabbed your hands, tugging you against his body. “Trust me, you think I’m planning to let you go after you said yes to me?”

“I don’t like this.”

“You don’t have to like it, you just have to have faith,” He placed his forehead against you, cleaning away some tears from your eyes. “Have faith in me.”

“I…”

“You will leave this place with a wedding ring on your hand, with the most beautiful vows a man can muttered. Trust that.”

“You are asking too much.”

“I’m asking what I know will happened, you will be the most beautiful bride in the whole world.” You sobbed against his chest. “I can already see it, your hair in a beautiful braid, flowers adorning it, a veil covering your flushing face and the most beautiful wedding dress on your body, so just trust me in this.”

“I want to but…”

“Shhh, just promise me, when the time comes and you hear the words, you will leave this place with a happy smile on your face.”

You shook your head, muttering a soft ‘I swear on it’ against his chest. Randall kissed your forehead, leaving his lips there for a second.

“Let me see that pretty face.” He whispered and you complied, your eyes were puffy from your crying, your nose red and your lips still trembling with emotion. “Would you look at that? Such a pretty little lady there.”

“Shut up, I’m still mad at you.”

He tenderly smiled, “That’s a shame, I wanted one more kiss before we go back.”

“You don’t deserve my kisses.” And he laughed.

He walked you back towards your window, it was difficult as he refuse to let you go. He set the pace, it was slow as he demanded a bit more time with you, and reluctantly let you go, helping you climb up your window.

“Sweet dreams, my lady.” He told you once you settled safely inside.

“I’m still angry at you, you will have to do a lot of nice things for my forgiveness.”

“And I will happily do them without any question.”

“Stupid.” You said smiling and left the window, straight to bed.

You woke up startled at the sound of your door opening brusquely. “You better get yourself ready girl, Sir Roderick has invited the family to breakfast” Your mother harshly told you, throwing a dress at your direction. “I expect you to be ready now!”

You groaned, it was way early and you had a few hours of sleep, reluctantly getting ready, the dress your mother throw at you was way fancier for a simple breakfast but you knew better that contradict her in any form.

You left your hair down as the dress your mother gave you revealed your shoulders and a part of you felt a bit weird with sitting on the same table as Roderick Burgess and him watching you. You step out of your room and walked towards the kitchen, your father was reading some newspaper, apparently your mother force him with his fanciest clothes as well.

“Good morning dad.” You greeted him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Morning peanut,” His eyes left the paper, watching your dress with a frown. “Huh, I sense your mother’s fashion on your persona.”

You nodded biting your lip.

“Knew it, I still don’t get why are we dressing like this, we must look like those weird high society people, who drinks tea with their pinky raised.”

“Mom said we have to make an impression.”

“Your mother said I had to make an impression while cutting wood, tried to make me put on a tie and everything, she’s getting the madness disease.”

“Madness disease?” You asked him confusedly.

Your father stood up and walked towards you, “The same one that Burgess man has, crazy people, I’m telling you.”

“Where is mom?”

“Oh, she left minutes ago, complaining that you took too long but I stayed behind to wait for you. So, shall we go and face our own personal hell?” He offered you his arm, you link it without question and both of you went towards the great dinning room. “I have a plan if we need an escape, I will swallow a grape and you help me with it and we leave because you are so worried for this old man. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The dinning room was one of the places you truly despise inside the manor, shamelessly big with the floors you always hated cleaning, your mother, as your father told you before, was sitting quite comfortably next to Roderick’s left, batting eyelashes like a teenager next to her first love, you felt your father tense at your side but decided that it wasn’t worth trying to call her out as Roderick wasn’t paying her any attention. Randall and Alex were sitting in front of each other, the youngest one looked tense and nervous, while the older one looked bored.

Your father cleared his throat, managing to separate your mother a bit from Roderick, yet she didn’t move far away from him, you nudge his side and sat beside your mother. The air was tense as you looked at the breakfast plate that was already been served, it was cold and you suspected it was just sat there for some minutes. It was soggy and unappealing but when your mother kicked your leg from under a table, you force it down as best as you could.

It was awful.

“When I bought this manor I knew it would bring challenges,” Roderick began, his voice demanded attention, it was forceful and harsh, his kids tensed at his words, your mother sighed contently, nodding along. “and loosing my wife along the way made them even harder. I became a single parent and tried to navigate my life around them.” He cut a piece of bread. Chewing it loudly. You winced at the sound, trying not to gag in disgust.

“Everything I did, I did them for my children, I never lied to,” Roderick turned towards Randall. “And I always hoped for the same.”

“You are such a good example for your boys and for my girl, we are so grateful to let us be here.

Roderick ignored your mother’s words, “I noticed something quite particular yesterday as I walked to my office.”

Randall tensed. “I consider myself an organized man, I know where the things should go and when someone moved them, so imagine my surprise to see that my safe box was moved just a tiny bit.”

“What are you implying Burgess?” Your father stood up offended. “You invited us here to what…accused us of stealing you?”

“Well, yes.” Roderick simple stated. “You have something belonging to me girl.” He turned to you. “I opened the doors of my home to you, to your family and you have the audacity of stealing for me.”

“No!” Your mother exclaimed, “I mean, my daughter would never steal from you, she is not that stupid to do so.”

“Shut up,” Your father harshly said, “Watch your words Burgess.”

“Why should I?” He smiled. “She’s wearing my wife’s ring.”

Your eyes turned towards your hand, you didn’t took off the ring. “I…”

“Father stop.” Randall stood up, “If you want to blame someone, blame me, I did it, I went into your office and stole the ring.”

Before his father could said anything, he continued, Randall straightened his back, trying to ease the tension around his shoulders, his eyes met yours and saw the fear behind them, your father stood protectively in front of you, waiting his reasoning to gifting you a ring that didn’t belonged to him.

“I asked to marry me.” He whispered, “We’ve been seeing each other for quite some time.”

Roderick was quiet, his eyes turning to you. “I see.” He walked towards the exit and left without a word.

“I…” Randall began.

“Not a word kid, not a word.” Your father stopped him and dragged you away from the diner, your mother walking behind quietly.

“What were you thinking?!” Your father exclaimed angrily, he began pacing. “You could have chosen anyone. Anyone (Y/N)! Why him?”

“I’m going to stop you there,” Your mother intervened, huge smile on her face. “She made a magnific choice! You are seriously thinking our daughter could end up with a nobody? This is the son of Roderick Burgess, we should be excited she at least know how to choose them.”

“You are not seeing the point,” He turned to look at you, “Why him peanut?”

“Dad,” You began, your fingers began playing with the ring. “I love him.”

“Honey, no, that isn’t love,” His hands cups your face tenderly, making you focus on him. “He isn’t worth it, please trust me.”

“No, no, he is worth,” You desperately said. “He is worth everything dad, I know, please, I know.”

“So you prefer your daughter end up on the streets? Let’s face it, this is the only shot she has, you think there would be another guy who would love her? That man does not exist, Randall is there, willingly gave her a ring, he’s going to take care of her.”

“There is more than ‘taking care of’, she needs to understand that the world is big, he might not be the one, come on! I need you on my side.” Your father begged, “She deserves better than that man and his son, she deserves someone who would willingly…”

“Willingly what?” She spat, venom on her voice. “Willingly die for her? Or maybe, I don’t know, defied death for her? Let’s be real for a second.” She paused, “She is not going to find that, that love does not exist, it never has.”

Your father looked at her quietly, his lips began to tremble, same with his hands. “So my love does not count then?”

“You knew this marriage was,” She never faltered her strong gaze. “And she needs to understand that as well.”

Your mother pushed your father away when he tried to reach for you, standing in front of you, hands on her hips. She didn’t said anything, just stood there watching your father, challenging him to say anything, to find a reason to win this argument. Your father stood there, his gaze turning between you and your mother, staying for a few seconds longer on your mother. Your eyes could see the heartbreak on his eyes, the betrayal that screamed ‘Roderick Burgess has won’, it was loud and painful, and a part of you wanted to apologize to him, to say you didn’t want to love his son but you couldn’t help it, you really tried to hate him.

Someone began knocking at the door urgently, your mother went to opened to find Randall standing there panting, her face broke into a smile and let him enter. Randall walked to you, grabbing your hands. “Could I speak to her for a second? Alone.”

“Of course sweetheart, have all the time you need.” Your mother left dragging your father away, he didn’t spare you a glance.

“Randall,” You began, shaking his hands of yours, “I told you so…”

“I know, I know, but,” He grabbed your hands again with desperation. “He just needs some time to understand, this news were a shock to him, he will understand.”

“No he won’t.” You breathed heavily. “He would never understand.”

“He will.”

“If I asked you once again, to leave everything behind, would you say yes?” You tried again, hoping and praying he would say yes, yes to leave everything behind you, to just grabbed very little and start again somewhere far away from this nightmare.

Randall didn’t answered.

“Randall,” You whispered.

“The plan still stands, I’ll go to war and then I will come back and marry you, that’s the plan.”

You shook your head, trying to get away from him but he didn’t let you, wrapping his arms around your form, forcing you to stay still, tears began falling down your face, knowing what this meant. Yes, he will marry you, you trust that, but sadly, your lives would be revolve around his father and that would never stop and sadly, a part of you was ready to accept that fate.

Randall left a few days after, after what happened at the breakfast, the both of you didn’t try and talk again, yet you still were there at the door, hugging him tightly as a truck came and pick you up, he kissed the side of your head before leaving.

It was harder than you thought it would be, you knew it would be difficult to continue your days without him, but the pain that came with his leaving was hurtful and suffocating. And most of your days you spend it crying his parting.

Everything around you was changing, some things for the better while others for the bad, your mother became more involve with Roderick Burgess and your father becoming more distant with her. You saw in first row how their marriages began burning out and sadly you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It was past midnight when he first saw you breaking down. He sat down next to you, taking the letter that was on your hands. It was from Randall, explaining how it might take more time for him to come back home.

Your father stayed quietly and gently moved you onto his lap, tucking your face on his neck, he began humming softly, the same song he used to hum when you were a little baby. You kept crying, apologizing to him for hurting him with your feelings but he hummed louder, drowning your apologies on his voice. You were beginning to fall asleep when you felt him kissing your forehead, you felt like a kid in his arms again.

“I know peanut, I know.”

Your mom was a different story, she began moving upwards on the Roderick’s circle. The Order of the Ancient Mysteries was secret and only a few people were lucky enough to be part of it. Your mother was one of the lucky ones.

She began to change within the passing days, she became a totally new persona, more secretive, more sarcastic and more angry. After a few weeks of Randall’s leaving, your mother moved into another room on the manor, leaving your father and you alone.

Your father took it hard.

He became a shadow of what he used to be, faking a smile wherever you became preoccupied with him, promising you that he was just tired of how hard work has been.

You became a shadow as well, your faith in Randall’s returning was fading with each day and you began wondering if you two were truly in love after all. His letters became scattered, sometimes you would receive one each week, sometimes one each month, but now you were lucky if you receive one a month.

You stopped wearing the ring, opting for having it on a necklace, closer to your heart, you force the idea of having it there, closer to your heart. Not on your finger, where you would see it. A sealed fate.

The beginning of autumn was closer, and that meant the cold winds were around the corner, sometimes you think those two seasons were a reflection of your relationship with Randall was, beginning to get cold and uncolored.

You were putting some plates away when your father came into the kitchen, he was tired, you could tell but there was a glint on his eyes you haven’t had seen in a long time, he was trying so hard not to smile while having something behind his back.

“It’s apple season.” He began.

“It is,” You nodded, now paying close attention to him. “What has you so happy?”

“Well, I found your mother’s basket the other day,” Now it was ‘your mother’ not ‘my darling’ or ‘honey’ those stopped days back. “And I saw the apples and thought ‘maybe it would be good idea to grabbed a few’…in a manly way, of course.”

You tried not to laugh, fully sitting on the counter. “And what is a ‘manly way’ dad?”

Your father frown, trying to find a good way of describing his way with words. “Well, a ‘manly way’ is just that, grabbing apples…in a manly way.” He nodded, proud of his description. “Also was hoping you would bake a pie, as a reward for bringing such quality produce.”

You shook your head smiling, you missed this mood on your father, happily, free, joking. You missed him a lot. Your hop down the counter and grabbed the apples, you carefully looked at them, making your father nervous.

“Did I do a good job, peanut?” He carefully asked, finally sitting on one of the chairs.

“To be honest,” You began, trying not to smile. “You did an excellent job dad…so…”

“So…?”

“How’s mom?” You turned away, beginning to wash and peeling the apples. “Haven’t seen her for a while.”

Your father shrugged uncomfortably, “Probably with that Burgess…she spends most of her days with him anyway.”

“Dad…”

“No, no, it’s fine, I got used to it, it’s not like she’s my wife or something.” He rested his head on the back of the chair, looking at the ceiling before sighing. “She began saying she’s single, guess this is finally over.”

“Don’t think that” You turned, “Mom just needs a little push and she would come back. I know she would.”

“It’s really fine peanut.” He reassure you, trying to smile a bit. “But I would love if we don’t talk about this.”

You nodded.

“How’s the kid? Doing good?” He asked you, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

You shrugged, “I…really don’t know.” You glance at him for a moment, turning away quickly and blinking faster, trying to stop the tears from falling down. “Hasn’t wrote in a while.”

“Peanut…”

“It’s fine, he really needs to focus so he can come back faster.”

Your father nodded and dropped the subject.

“We could do some hot tea.” He said.

“I would love that.”

It was later at night and you were still awake, your mind busying itself with doubts, was it worth it waiting for him? His feelings for you were real? Or were just a game to him?

You wanted to keep positive, you really tried but he was gone for far too long that you began questioning yourself, you wanted him here, with you, you wanted him to put you first and his father seconds. But he put his father’s needs and wants first, what does that mean? Would your relationship fail? Was it worth even trying?

You turned towards the window, your hands got under your pillow and you began watching how the light entered your room, it turned everything with a mystical shade of blue and white, your eyes traveled to that small box you kept his letters, you haven’t read them in a while, it was hard but you couldn’t do that to yourself.

You heard a noise from outside, you frown and sat down, your bed sheets pooled on your lap, carefully moving around them, trying to keep quiet. You glanced outside your window, your eyes only saw shadows and for a moment you swore you saw them move. You bit your lip, saying to yourself that you were tired and that was just your imagination playing games with you.

A hand grabbed you from behind, covering your mouth harshly and dragging you out of your room, you began kicking, trying to break free from the stranger’s grasp. You manage to bite onto his hand and when he let’s your mouth free you screamed.

“Dad!” You screamed with force, the strange closed your mouth.

“Shh pretty lady, we don’t want to wake the entire manor, do we?” He whispered on your ear. “Such a beautiful girl needs to learn her place with a man, and that is your silence.”

You heard footsteps running towards you and the sound of a shotgun.

“Listen to me piece of shit,” Your dad aimed the gun at the stranger, “Let go of my daughter before I shoot you.”

You saw shadows moved behind him, you scream ‘turn around, please turn around, there are more’ but you couldn’t the sound was muffled by the strangers hand. He laughed, kissing your temple.

“Sorry man,” The stranger smiled against your temple, “He said she was alone, no hard feelings.” You saw how someone appeared behind your dad and hit him on the back of the head. “Sorry about this sweetheart.”

You were on the ground when you woke up, your head was throbbing in pain and everything was dark and it felt humid. You stood up and stumble for a bit, your hand looking for the wall to support yourself.

You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t even know if you were still on the manor. Your father, god you hoped your father was okey, that they didn’t hurt him. A sigh escaped you, a hand dragged across your face, trying to shake off the earie feeling.

“Good, you are awake.”

You recognized the voice, you tried looking for her but the room was so dark it was difficult. “Mom?” You asked the emptiness.

“Don’t call me that.” She responded, taking a few steps until she revealed herself to you, her face shown no emotion.

“Where’s dad?” You tried again.

“Your father met his fate when he intervened against the orders.” She replied, her feet carried her around you, that’s when you finally notice the bars.

“What?” You touched them, “Where is he? What’s going on? Why am I on this place?” You questioned her, shaking the bars hoping for something. “I don’t understand mom, what’s happening?”

“You have caused this,” She stood in front of you, “This is your punishment…the blood of your fathers is in your hands” Your mother whispered before she left, never glancing at you.

The days passed or you thought so. It was harder to keep track when you didn’t see the sun or the moon. Sometimes a guard came here and brought you something to eat, something you didn’t eat. You just sat there quietly, still hearing her words repeating over and over again.

Your father’s blood was on your hands.

Your hands were full of his blood.

It was your fault.

A bag of clothes hit you in the face, forcing you out of your thoughts, your hands grabbed it.

“Roderick is asking for you.” Your mother came back, she was wearing a dark cloak while she waited for you to start dressing. “We must be on time, hurry up child.”

You stood up and beginning to strip, you didn’t care she was watching you, you didn’t care if the guard came and watch you too. Your mind was far away and you were so tired. However you could, you manage to put on what she throw you. It was a dress, the material was soft and you were grateful for a change of clothes. It was white and sleeveless, it didn’t fit your body as it was a few sizes too big but you didn’t care at this point.

“Turn around,” You did as you were told, your mother hummed, “Do a quick braid, Randall was right, you don’t look good with you hair down.”

She motioned the guard next to her to open up the doors and cuff you. She grabbed your arm and began dragging you away from there, it was hard to keep up with her steps as your body was too weak, malnourish and tired. You just wanted to sleep. Your mother force you to climb the steps, throwing harsh words at your direction if you stumble for a bit.

The light almost made you blind, your eyes closed in pain, it was far too long from the last time you saw the light, and it wasn’t even a bright day, perhaps closer to night time.

She kept dragging you until you were pushed you at the center, the room was filled with people, dressed the same as your mother, you began to feel uncomfortable as they were watching you closely.

They moved when Roderick stepped forward, his face was angry, you could tell from the way his mouth was making a disgust grimace. He looked you up and down, circling around you, he force your back to straighten up. “She is missing something.” He said, a few women stepped forward quickly, one putting a veil on your head, covering your face rapidly, another gave you a bouquet of white narcissus. You were confused but said nothing. “You know what you are here child?”

You said nothing.

“You are here to correct the mistakes of your sins.” His fingers motioned forward. “Bring him here.” Two men carried a coffin, putting it in front of you. “I thought you were meant for greatness but you only brought doom with your birth.” He opened the coffin, a corpse was laying there dressed on the finest clothes.

“This is your doing.” He continued, he grabbed your chin, forcing you to face the corpse, “My son is dead because of you.”

You gasped at the sight of Randall, his face wasn’t him, this wasn’t him, you couldn’t. No. You won’t believe this, you know Roderick is lying, Randall promise he would come back, he would come back for you. You tried to move backwards but were force to stay put. Two men grabbed your arms and forced you on your knees.

“Look at your doing!” Roderick screamed. “My son is dead because of you!”

Your mother stepped forward, handing him a book. “It is ready, my lord, the binding circle is complete.”

Roderick nodded content, he grabbed the book and opened it, “Brothers, sisters, please step back, we are about to begin.”

They left you there, next to Randall’s body.

“We are here reunited to do the impossible. We are about to be written in history as the greatest, as the ones who deserved everything. As the ones who capture Death and have it under our control.” He began, his eyes turning onto the open page. “We completed drawing the binding circle, the totem of Death’s calling, Death requires sacrifices, as its name said, ‘The one who guides you to the end.’ But today. Today we are going to capture it. Death separates the soul of the body, Death leaves the ones who doesn’t deserve to live here and takes the ones who truly were meant to be something away. Death took my son, Death took what belonged to me and we will have it return, Randall will return to us!”

His followers cheered loudly.

“This child was the true sacrifice, not my son. She deserves this punishment for her sins, she trapped my son onto her web of lies, and today, she will mend her mistakes today.”

He put the open book on a pedestal and his arms opened widely. “Chant with me brothers and sisters. ‘Ego te hac nocte voco. Cum sol occultavit. Mors venit ad me. Audite avocatos meo. Mors venit ad me. Tibi hoc sacrificium est, redde nobis quod amisimus.’ Again!” He demanded.

His followers said the words with force, chanting them with gleeful madness, following their leader, over and over again the voices were heard. The air felt cold and hot at the same time, the candles that surrounded the binding circle were blown off. Roderick smiled in madness. “Again!” He demanded again.

You were trembling with fear, they sounded lunatic. You couldn’t move away, something made your knees stuck on the ground, perhaps your body was frozen in fear, perhaps their words were doing something real. Perhaps Death would come and spare your life, perhaps it would take you away. You didn’t know.

Roderick stepped into the binding circle, kneeling behind you, he grabbed your chin forcefully, “Tonight Death will take what was wrongly left behind and in return it will bring what was taken away before its time.” You felt the blade of a knife against your neck, carefully caressing it. “You desperately wanted to be a bride so badly that your demands provoke my son’s death, you will bring him back, you were meant to be a bride but never a wife, you will doom whoever decides to wed you child. You are a mistake. You are a bad omen, you will be grateful for my hand.”

The sound of a knife hitting the floor shut everybody’s chanting. “Did it work?” Someone asked.

Roderick stood up, pushing your body harshly on the ground, cleaning the remaining blood on your wedding skirt. He walked towards his son and gently patted his face. “Randall? Come on son, it’s time to wake from your slumber.”

Randall didn’t move, his face was still pale and his chest unmoving. Roderick screamed in frustration, kicking the pedestal where the book was being held. “Take that thing away from me,” His head motioned your slumped body, a small pool of blood was soaking your dress. “Pointless.”

Your mother took an uninterested glance at you, moving carefully to the angry man. “What should we do now, my lord?”

Roderick closed his eyes in frustration, “We will try again, brothers and sisters, Death will come and I will have my revenge.”

“And with the body, sir?” She asked, her head nodding at your direction. “What should we do with it?”

“Bury it, burn it, I do not care.” He began walking away. “Do what you like, in the end, that is your child, is it not?”

Your mother watched him leave, she sighed tiredly before turning to the others. “Bury her next to the man who gave her life. They deserve to at least rot together in hell.”

The others nodded before they began dragging you away, a trail of blood was left behind you. Your mother went to pick up the book, a random page. “Huh…I see.”

So! What do you think? Hope you like it!

Tag list: I hope I did this right, I watched a tutorial on youtube. @intothesoul @cleverzonkwombatsludge @guccirosegold @theamuz @beautifulbows924 @imheresortof @pinksirensong @suoheiwajima @anjimimimoo @andy-rocks

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bebeyeyo · 1 year

Text

always the bridesmaid, never the bride

genre: angst with kind of happy ending

pairing: sana x jihyo, reader x jihyo

cw: reader is corpse bride

note: i said i would tag you in this @lovinhyo

“with this hand, i will lift your sorrows. your cup will never empty. for i will be your wine.” jihyo says with a whole hearted smile that’s warm and spreads across her face.

she holds the wine glass in her hand, and although nervous, she’s not shaking nervously.

she just looks at you with a loving gaze and waiting for you to say your vows.

how this came to be…you’ll only say that the living cannot be with the dead.

you reciprocate the same smile back before lifting up the deadly poison into your own hand before speaking up.

“with this hand, i will lift your sorrows. your cup will never empty,” you bring the poison up to your soon-to-be wife’s glass, pouring it in.

“for i will be…” you trail off, your eyes looking behind jihyo with now a shocked expression.

you see sana. she’s dressed in a wedding gown herself. a beautiful, elegantly new one than your torn and soiled dress that you’ve been wearing for the years that you’ve been dead.

she looks at you with the same shocked but confused expression.

“go on, dear.” the wedding officiant encourages you on.

you blink multiple times before looking back at jihyo who’s looking at you with concern in her eyes.

“your cup…will never empty…for i will be…” you repeat once more looking back at sana, then jihyo.

the hurt on sana’s face you couldn’t just brush off like this. it pained you to see her watching this. it felt so wrong.

“for i will be your wine.” your wife says bringing the glass up to her lips.

but you stop her, putting your hand on top of the glass bringing it down away from her lips.

you close your eyes before opening them again.

jihyo is confused as to why you stopped her. this is how it was supposed to be? or maybe not…

“i can’t.” you shakily say with the shake of your head.

her eyebrows furrow, “what’s wrong?” she sees your eyes look behind her once more. jihyo turns her head to look, only for your hand to gently pull her face to look at you. your cold touch which she got used to.

“this is wrong.”

you see now how wrong this truly was. before you, it was jihyo and sana. you knew that from the very first time you’ve even seen sana, whom you called the “other woman”.

you’ve dreamed of getting married again someday, with your happy ending living happily with your spouse. and you thought you had finally gotten it.

until now. you had finally gotten your second chance at love when jihyo unintentionally proposed to you that glorious night.

but it wasn’t supposed to be yours. it never was.

“i was a bride. my dreams were taken from me, but now…” you trail off with a few tears welling in your eyes before one finally falls. “now i’ve stolen them from someone else.”

your bottom lip quivers slightly.

“i love you, jihyo.” you state with a small sad smile.

“but you’re not mine.”

jihyo felt her own heart begin to ache. what were you talking about? why were you doing this?

you turn your gaze back to sana who you wave over. she was in shock, but nonetheless begins walking toward you and jihyo.

the crowd of the dead gasps watching scene before them. you couldn’t care less, all you cared about was what you intend to do right now.

as sana approached you and the love her of life, you grab the girl’s hand before placing it in jihyo’s.

sana and jihyo look at each other with soft smiles before looking back at you.

“but…i made a promise.” jihyo says as she lets go of sana’s hand.

you shake your head with a chuckle.

“you kept your promise,” taking the ring off your finger you place it into the palm of jihyo’s hand, “you set me free.”

“and now i can do the same for you.” you smile.

jihyo felt tears well trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

“i’ll always love you, y/n.” she says.

you close jihyo’s hand with her fingers before letting her go, “i’ll always love you, too.” you say.

you silently give sana your bouquet of flowers, the ones you felt she deserved more than you.

jihyo went back to sana with tears finally spilling from her eyes as she looks at you.

the two girls knew you’d go onto a place that’s better than here. a place where you could finally find peace.

you’d been betrayed, denied the chance of loving someone just as much as you love jihyo before you met her. you wanted your story to leave a smile on your face, but now, it’s for a different reason.

and as much as you knew your happy ending wasn’t as happy as the one you pictured, you’re okay with that.

you know you are.

i forgot how sad corpse bride really is. i cried writing this.

#darlinggtwice #sana x jihyo #jihyo x reader #corpse bride reader #twice imagines

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kimbap-r0ll · 2 years

Note

Hi! I just saw your post that your requests are open so I'm excited!! Anyways i want to request dorm leaders with a corpse bride aka emily s/o, I think idia won't be to thrilled because of she's kinda like eliza and malleus would be happy because he matches his s/o husband type. If you did this thank youu🫰🫰

Hi, thank you for the ask! The inbox is filling up really fast so sorry this took a bit. Thank you for the patience nonetheless. I went to a Tim Burton exhibit a few months ago, the prompt reminded me of it haha

Dorm Leaders with a corpse bride!s/o

Riddle

First of all, you're an undead, so he doesn't know how to approach you at first. But through time, he's warmed up to you and he does like you for who you are

You are very sweet, almost the opposite of the harsh dorm leader that is Riddle Rosehearts. It's sort of like an opposites attract moment with you two, where often he's strict but you're on the sidelines making things a bit more easygoing

By the way everyone at Heartslabyul hides behind you so they don't get their heads offed whenever they're chased by Riddle haha

Overall, I don't see him having a big issue with you but the fact that you're a corpse might freak him out a bit at first

Leona

Similar to Riddle, he won't really get how you're dead but not. But nonetheless, as long as you "don't bother" him, he's happy. He does find the fact that you were going to marry someone but died a little depressing

He does find your gullible nature to be a bit concerning, especially with the nature of NRC. He's sort of protective over you as time goes, often wrapping an arm around you

He likes teasing you btw, often making jokes but the jokes go over your head. It's your more naive personality that causes this, which can be adorable or insufferable depending on the situation to Leona

He likes you for who you are, and doesn't mind it when you stick around him. It's nice to have someone care for him anyways ;-;

Azul

At first he attempted to trick you into signing a contract, but then he felt bad and that's where you two started off haha. Thinks that your dress is super pretty btw

He doesn't mind that you're a corpse, since he himself isn't quite human either. He does ask a lot of questions about your biology however so be prepared for that!

Does also find your gullible nature to be of concern. If you almost signed a contract without even asking what it was, then yeah he feels that he should at least keep an eye out on you

The tweels like your company too, they think it's fun to tease Azul about how much he likes you haha

Kalim

You two are sort of similar, with the exception that his energy is much higher than yours.

Might've been scared when he first met you because of you being, well, undead. But after that initial jumpscare he's fascinated and will ask you a bunch of questions

Jamil finds you to be of comfort as well, since it's you that keeps Kalim under check sometimes but every once in a while you two might get into trouble (ie crashing into a lab with a carpet)

Kalim likes you a lot, whether or not you're a corpse. Though he does wonder who you were destined to marry at first

Vil

He thinks you're joking when you tell him your tale of being a, well, undead bride. But after a few minutes of debate, he finally accepts it as true

Will make sure you're keeping your physical and mental health up. Yes you may be dead but Vil doesn't want you looking dead inside all the time :/

But similar to Leona, he does think that you're a bit on the naive side. He doesn't mind it, sometimes it's adorable, but he doesn't want someone to use you and thus is protective of you

Will ask about your history and the dress since he's interested in you. Overall however he's totally fine with you being a corpse bride

Idia

Dang this guy has ptsd from Eliza it'll be hard to interact with him after that event. However, you proved to be different from the former undead bride

He's a bit shy around you, so you might have to make the first moves. He thinks you're really nice, a different pace from the more demanding force that was Eliza

If you aren't scared of ghosts or anything, you two might end up watching a bunch of horror films together. You might point out the incorrect facts in them too

He likes you, a lot too. It's that kind and selfless personality you have that he really admires

Malleus

Has heard of corpses rising from the dead and such but never expected to meet one and end up dating one either

He doesn't have a problem with it honestly. Both of you aren't human and what matters to him the most is if you guys can connect. He asks a lot of questions about you because he's curious about your life

Does find your selfless and caring personality really sweet, it's something he admires. Yes he's a scary fae prince but deep inside he's pretty wholesome

Overall I feel like the two of you connect the best because you're used to the ambiance that is Diasomnia and to him he likes your warm presence (though yes you are technically dead).

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

Text

The Prince and His Corpse Bride (part i)

pronouns: she/her warnings: infidelity? (he and baela have no romantic connection) summary: Jacaerys went to Winterfell for one reason and one reason only–the support of the only true friend he has ever had but now he needs to return regardless of his desires, and amongst his presence he must also bestow the ring of Valyrian steel so carefully curated to his betrothed. dividers: firefly-graphics disclaimers: of course do not own the original corpse bride nor asoiaf however this is my own work and story, i do not give permission for my work to be transferred onto other platforms or translated a/n: this chapter is very jace heavy wordcount: 3,529

The steel ring glimmers in the moonlight upon Jacaerys fingers as he waves goodbye within the Godswood as he prepares to take flight, Cregan and sweet young Sara reciprocating the hand gesture eagerly. Vermax grumbles beneath him, stretching his wings as if for the first time for years. A forced smile tightens on Jacaerys’ face as his lips part to take in a deep breath. It wasn’t often that Jacaerys left Dragonstone but he was to be wed in a moon’s time and he needed his best friend. No matter how hard, nor what, he tries, however, he cannot dispel his brother’s face from the front of his mind. Even Cregan saw it when the Velaryon’s irises linger too long on the brunet siblings. A sickly chartreuse dagger wedges in Jacaerys’ throat every time he tries to push the thoughts back. He didn’t think of anything once his satchel was restocked and he climbed aboard Vermax, finally mounting his dragon after ten and four nights–each more painful and lonely than the last. He was only meant to stay a mere three and yet that green dagger poked everytime he approached his companion’s scales. He doesn’t want to go back, not truly, because when he does? His own and dearest brother will not be there to toast his union. He will not be there at all. And for some reason that hurts more than any other harrowing kill he has witnessed. The Targaryen dynasty is no longer at war but that does not soothe all ills. Not his own. And for a while it was alright to drink and curse at his friend’s side but even when he couldn’t remember his own name, he could remember Lucerys. He could remember that he wasn't there.

Jacaerys closes his eyes as Vermax makes a low sound reminiscent of whining and bites his lip until he can feel a cut beginning to blossom beneath his sharp teeth. No more late night talking, mourning and horse rides until both he and Cregan reek of the night air. Bile squirms in his mouth but he buries it before Vermax finally takes off, dragging his begrudging rider with him. Jacaerys refrains from commanding because if he does, he knows he’ll tell him to turn back and he cannot do that to Baela. He cannot embarrass her like that, cannot cast shame on his family at all. He will do his duty and return to Dragonstone and marry her before The Seven. It doesn’t matter that he thinks the Sept’s altar makes him heave, that the candles never feel right in his hand, that the ring he will slip onto her finger will feel as though a condemnation. He may never love her, and she him, but he can try and create a painless union–one that is good for the family, one that will strengthen a family worthy of the Iron Throne, Baela at his side. He breathes in. He can do it. His stomach churns at the thought. His mother did it, he can too–he will. He will perform what is expected of him, he will be crowned and he will form a legacy worthy of The Seven Kingdoms. He has to and he will. His mother told him that she will create a new order and he intends to assist in any way he can to replenish it for her. The wind brushes over him in thick waves, watering his narrowed eyes. His nose twitches against the cold. He scrunches it in an attempt to warm his freezing face. The Kingdom needs their Queen and one day they will need their King too. Baela is brave, smart and holds a power within her gaze he has rarely seen before, she will make an excellent Queen. He gave her a promise worth a throne and he will keep it even if it kills him. He knows she is far more than he has yet amounted to.

Vermax shrieks, screaming the emotions that Jacaerys refuses to outlet. His rider chokes out an exhale and digs the heels of his hands into the saddle reins. Jagged pains dig through him and burn as hot as the fires of his House. He thinks of Valyrian ceremonies, of the one he will never have in case it displeases the people. They will think him a fraudulent prince until he seats the chair of iron and corruption. He curses the damned thing and its pretentious swords. He curses that he is not trueborn. He curses that his mother made him so. Did she know how this would occur? Laenor was his father but not in blood. Did the Lord truly hate him so much that he would leave them so quickly? Abandon he and his brothers to a life of condemnation without him. He curses that he would leave them but not Laenor, never him. A sob begs to claw up his throat but he buries it, slashing until he tastes the metallic blood that sears his burning veins. He curses his hair, his Strong hair. His dark eyes devoid of the enchanting lilac his mother bears. Why, oh Gods, why would they curse him so? Had he been a meandering fool in a previous life? Were such things real? He hopes that in the next life he will be curated in a life of simplicity and his parents of common blood. Jacaerys curses himself. He told his mother to send him to the Vale and Winterfell. It should have been Lucerys. His sweet brother, the one worth more than himself. He had thought the shorter journey would ensure Lucerys’ safety yet it had not. What kind of brother was he? What kind of King would he be if that golden crown lay upon his head. Jacaerys is sure he would abdicate if he had not been betrothed to Baela. If she did not deserve the throne far more than he. Cloud encircles him and he snaps back his gaze upon the familiar castle finally. He sniffles and curses the cold.

He curses.

Landing came slow and rough, Vermax had never been swift at the act though nor did he really care. Not for the first time, Jacaerys envied him. A raucous clapping sounded from the soiled ground. Jacaerys leaned over Vermax’s shimmering neck to catch the sight of Baela wearing a sly smirk. He returns to her a suitable smile and attempts to unlatch the sweltering furs adorning his neck, coursing down the length of his back and arms. His feet hesitate before bounding over one side, his left. The prince lowers himself despite Vermax’s grunts. He glides a firm hand along his scales in penance. “Cousin,” Baela greets warmly. He tries not to wince. She is as beautiful as ever; her lengthy snow coils wrap together in a collection of braids–no doubt his mother’s doing–and descend her back, her iridescent eyes glimmer in the beam of sunlight and she bears the Targaryen colours like the personification of dragon blood herself. His eyes catch the golden clasps latching her hair into neatness but stray strands still peak from behind her ears. It was unabashedly Baela Targaryen. He nods, but even he can tell it is forced, then lowers to his knee and presses a quick chaste peck to the roof of her hand. Jacaerys’ eyes look up to her and attempt to soften in the way his mother’s do at Daemon. It doesn’t work. It never works. His chapped lips part. “Beloved.” The words taste sour when pressed upon his tongue. She doesn’t comment on this if she notices his tensity. She nods and allows him to stand again but her own movements are hard. A gentle breeze embraces them but still a sizable space repels their contact. The prince swallows. “Perhaps you shall join me for a stroll next morrow?” Vermax grumbles but Baela breathes out in relief, eyes briefly shutting before she smiles. “Yes. Yes, I would be delighted.” Her brows pinch in a gentle knit, hopefully grateful for the proposal. Proposal. His stomach churns again. His heartbeat rattles through the cage enclosing his ribs, a round ball expands in his throat.

She turns her back and all but runs back to the Keep, or more likely, his mother, Queen Rhaenyra of whom has been assisting her knowledge in their rich history and the order she wishes to maintain. Jacaerys sighs and guides Vermax through the Dragon Pit. The suffocating heat smothers his skin but the comfort it bestows is something he drinks easily. He may not possess the salt of Driftmark but at least the blood of the dragon roars its presence eagerly. \he sucks it into his nose and swallows the burning warmth. His eyes linger on the familiar stone surrounding him, he reaches to press his padded fingertips to his dragon’s scales who huffs. That was something he appreciates–his companion was never angry at him for long. Never doubted their bond. His true and unquestionable friend. Through battle and Kingship he’s certain. Vermax almost purrs, unpleased with his lack of flight. Jacaerys nods. “I know, I apologise.” Jacaerys speaks through a sigh. “I will be better, I swear it to you, my friend.” Vermax hums deeply and rests his snout against Jacaerys’ palm. He almost purrs, preening at the attention as always. The prince bites back a snicker but the corners of his lips unwillingly upturn. He parts and grins. “Three times a day, I shall burn all contact in my thighs for you.” He teases to which Vermax tilts his head and squints his eyes. Jacaerys chuckles. “Fine, four.” Vermax relaxes and juts his chin in discerned triumph. Jacaerys runs a hand over his dragon’s smooth cheek before reluctantly stepping back and leaving the fiery comfort.

That night, he seats himself beside Joffrey, sending a stern expression when the boy attempts to launch his greens at young Aegon. Older Aegon groans and shoots him an absurd glance himself. He flails a flamboyant arm across the back of Helaena’s chair who makes sillious faces at their young babe. Maelor giggles. “Finally come to join us, nephew?” Aegon asks, propping a high brow and lips pulled taut. “I am afraid so.” Jace returns and then cranes his neck to smile at Baela beside him. “You look exquisite this evening.” He tells her politely before raising a fork to twirl in his grasp. “You were in Winterfell long, darling.” Rhaenyra frowns, lips sewn together as she casts concern his way. Jacaerys flushes and shrugs gently. “We lost time.” He replies in rolling lies. “I was helping Cregan assemble his swords and a few found themselves in unwanted hands.” The only sound breathes clattering silvery. Little Viserys dropped to the floor immediately in record speed to return the fallen cutlery to Princess Rhaena with pink cheeks. He has grown a crush on the older girl quite quickly although she clearly does not return the sentiment. She smiles quickly at him and tries to hide the growing frustration that teases her lips. Baela nudged Jacaerys gently and snickers. He returned the act and scooped a helping of potato upon his fork. He dips the food between the seam of his lips and lets the taste lay on his tongue. The betrothed prince and princess could at least enjoy one another’s company which is more than most had been bestowed. Still it hardly soothes his clenched heart. Alicent smiles at them from his mother’s side. “You will see him again soon for your nuptials.” She reminds him, arm entangling with Rhaenyra’s. Daemon groans. “Yes, a pack of wolves are to be invited, I hear.” It is no secret that Jacaerys’ stepfather cared deeply for a Valyrian ceremony in place of the one chosen, he does not hide it.

The remainder of night is spent with tossing and distressing thoughts. He cannot find it in him to sleep. No matter how many sweet lullabies he threads, no matter how many direwolves he recounts, no matter anything because all he can remember is the night his brother left…How they were never told why. Jacaerys sits up, a huff dropping from between his lips. He rolls them between his teeth and groans, smacking his hands to clasp behind his head. The prince weaves his fingers between strands of his hair, grasping them roughly as he huffs. He clicks his jaw and gently faces the window. What’s wrong with him? It must be the early hours of daylight and yet he stays here unable to sleep with wicked thoughts snatching at which part of his brain they wish to feast upon. He remembers a time where he slept easily and it was his brother who needed comforting. Jacaerys swallows around the cotton in his throat. He closes his eyes and leans back onto his pillow. “Jace?” The quiet voice called across the room. A yelp escaped the elder prince’s lips. His eyes shot open and shot to search for the cause. Long dark locks blocked his vision and he jumped, his hands reaching to cup his own cheeks, greeting him with familiar baby weight. He swallowed and took in a deep breath before he responded. “Yes?” He croaked, scrubbing the golden dust from his eyes. Jacaerys’ breath stopped suddenly. A six year old trembling Lucerys wobbled in on unsteady sleepy legs and sniffled. A large candle sat in his hand. Jace’s eyes widened and he bolted upright. “Hey, what are you doing? Put that down, you’ll hurt yourself. Luke just barely dodges the spilling wax, his lip trembles. “I-I-I–” He stutters. “Shh, shh.” Jace soothed and beckoned him closer as tears enraptured his little brother’s eyes. “It’s okay, take your time.” Jace whispered, tugging his head to his own chest. “It’s okay.” He ruffled his hair and let Luke’s tears flood his nightshirt. “I didn’t mean to!” Lucerys wailed, salt burning his throat. “I know,” Jace soothed, “I know. It’s not your fault.”

Screaming is the first thing Jacaerys hears when he awakens–he just doesn’t realise that it is his own until he feels the tight embrace and exotic perfumes of his mother. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rhaenyra hums, kissing the top of his head. Jace feels the pressure of burning tears spill past his eyelashes. “I didn’t mean to!” He cries. “I thought he was safe!” Rhaenyra nods and runs threading patterns through his coarse hair. “It’s okay, take your time.” She murmurs.

The morning comes and passes, Jacaerys’ eyes swollen and red as he reluctantly makes his way toward the palace gardens. Baela is standing with antsy hands, fingers playing with one another. Jacaerys bites his lip and smiles the best he can at her. She visibly sighs in relief and approaches, arms outstretched. He frowns and says nothing, merely returning the gesture and patting her back awkwardly. He extends his arm as expectation demands once they pull away and she reluctantly accepts it, her hand sliding down his arm before settling atop his own hand and weaving their fingers together. “A shame that so long has passed since we last met.” Baela comments and he hums despite his mind being elsewhere entirely. They pass a collection of candytufts to which she plucks one into her fingers. He bites back a sharp quip. Her eyes curiously float across his features and she sighs. “You do not care for me, I take it.” It’s not a question. His head snaps to her with wide eyes. Their movements turn fluid as he takes both her hands in his now. “Of course I care for you!” He rebuts but she only chuckles at him–her laughter the sound of a bird’s song and yet still his heart does nothing but sink in panic. “But not in the way we want it to.” Baela’s sharp voice casts through his unwilling ears. He sighs. “No.” Jace concedes. His eyes lift to hers again. “But I wish them to.” She nods, a grief-inducing tilt to her lips. “I know. We will give it time and perform our duty.” She squeezes his hands.

“But we must not lie to one another. After we are wed I do not plan to take a lover and I presume neither do you. If this changes, however, we must speak of it with one another.” Jace sighs and smiles. “Yes. Yes, I couldn’t agree more but I do have one more term.” Baela nods. “No child is to be born of another union, I–” His voice cracks, his tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips. “I could not bear it.” Jace clears his throat and his dear cousin rubs a soothing pattern on his hand. Gods, he wished he loved her. “Of course.” She assures. A loud sigh of relief draws from between his plush lips. She wished she cared about them. “Good.” He clears his throat and then chuckles and he kneels before her. “I suppose this would be a good time to finally present this to you then.” He rummages through his left pocket within his breeches. Baela tilts her head. “Present what?” She asks. Jacaerys knits his brows and sighs in frustration as he tries the opposite but no matter how far he digs, his hands come up empty. Paleness pours through his face, draining the blood like a leech. In a quick haste, his hand snaps to his forehead, his fingers wrap roughly in his hair. “Oh dear…” He murmurs. Baela furrows her brows. “What is it?” She asks, worry dripping from her like the snow in Winterfell. The snow he would have to return to. Slowly he meets her gaze and groans against tight lips. “The ring.”

Jacaerys Velaryon had never travelled so many times within the same year. He can see Cregan waving him down as he draws upon a patch of land, Vermax following his direction effortlessly. He drops from the saddle and greets the man quickly. “Have you seen a ring?” Cregan frowns and freezes before shaking his head. “I have not.” Jacaerys groans and tosses his head back. He guides his hand along his face, cupping it around his mouth and chin, rubbing his jaw. “Perhaps it fell in the Godswood? You were overhead it when I saw it last.” Jace nods slowly. “How large is it?” He asks to which his friend snorts and folds his arms. He slaps a hand across his back. “Come, my friend, we will find it.”

Walking has never been harder as he russells leaves and the earth’s soil in desperation. He would not be quite so worried if it did not belong to his fiery grandmother but alas it had. And he had been so careful. He curses himself, how had he been so reckless? It had barely left his pocket the whole time and yet when it came to leaving he had let it fall so easily? Curses. He huffs before a sudden glimmer flashes on a tree branch. A gasp pierces the seam of his lips and it is with a lengthy sprint that he launches himself at it, the branch tipping to drop it onto a log. Jacaerys’ eyes widen and he clasps it between his fingers, eyes shutting in exhaustion. He breathes out in relief after carefully peeling them back open again. He breaks out in a grin and kisses the dirtied steel. “Thank the Gods, you have not yet forsaken me!” He rolls onto the ground so that his back rests against the dark bark of the tree. “Now all that is left are the vows.” He grumbles to himself. He chuckles gently and raises the ring so that it might gleam in the sun. The exercise heats his tired body. “I suppose there is no harm.” He murmurs to himself dubiously. He carefully sets slips the rings past the break of a fallen branch and unlatches the clasp of his cloak, one with the Velaryon emblem clearly patterned across the back. “With this kiss I pledge my love,” Jacaerys hums to himself. He drapes the cloak to rest atop a strange bump in the soil. He admires the ring before him and takes a deep breath. He glances about him before taking the oddly shaped bark in hand. “and take you for my lady and wife.” He presses his warm lips to the bark slowly and soft like he practised. He smiles gently, voice melting into a low thrum of noise. “We are now one flesh, one heart, one soul–” Jace doesn’t get to finish the faithless vow.

“Now and forever.” A feminine voice sings back. His eyes snap open and he shrieks at the sight before him. His back slaps against the back of a weirwood tree, hands grasping behind him and around it. His jaw drops like a fish out of water as he stares upward. Before him now stands a beautiful maiden draped in white fabrics, torn furs and his very own Velaryon cloak. Congealed blood seeps through from her side to the opposite hip but her smile is as bright as the sun. A knowing smirk spreads across his pale lips. She tilts her head.

“Hello, husband.”

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wintervalewritersecond · 6 months

Text

tears to shed iii - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: part 3!!any tips or feedback are very welcome <3 one more part after this one!!!!

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: 6.270 warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, story will (slightly) change from the original corpse bride, she/her graves

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

To your surprise, Ghost his coffin was actually very comfortable to sleep in. You have no idea what time it is now - it seems to be night here at all times. You stretch your arms, grimacing as the corset seems to poke into your body, as you slowly sit up. You almost expected to wake up in your own room, maybe one in the MacTavish mansion, but upon opening your eyes, you are met with the same view you saw when you had fallen asleep.

"Good morning, love. Sleep well?"

You blink a few times, wiping your eyes as you nod.

"Yeah. Yeah, I uh... not used to coffins. Oddly comfortable, though."

Ghost huffs, nearly snorting as he shakes his head. He was used to the coffin. He got buried in this one, used it as a seat ever since. Everyone here does that - what else are they supposed to do with them?

"Good to hear. I have a question."

You hum in response, pulling on your corset in an attempt to loosen it. The buttons on your back make it nearly impossible to reach for it, but you need to loosen it a bit. Ghost eyes you for a second, standing up from his chair before leaning behind you.

"Need some help?"

"Oh! Yes, please."

His hands skillfully open up the tiny buttons, steady and quick as if he is handling a weapon. His hands almost never tremble or shake - a steady hand is very important in the line of work that he used to be in. You sigh in relieve as you feel the buttons pop open, Simon undoing the ribbon of your corset, loosening it before tying it back up, the buttons closing again.

"What were you going to ask, Simon?"

"My mate, Price, asked to meet you. The man has known me for years, always said I wouldn't marry with my ugly mug," the man lets out a soft snort, finishing up the last button before backing away again, "Would you be up for that?"

"Your... mates?"

You would meet his friends, people that have known him for much longer than you have, yet you are married to him. The situation, in a way, is the same as you would have ended up in anyway. Married to a man that you would have met only mere hours before, being in an unknown place, and not knowing what to do with yourself.

"I would love to."

He holds out his hand to you, the bony one first, but quickly changes it to his 'actual' hand. You let out a giggle, taking hold of it before following behind him. Whiskers takes the warm spot that you previously sat at, meowing once before curling up into a little ball. You still can not believe that you got to see Whiskers again. There are still confusing thoughts occupying your mind. Is this truly what the afterlife is like? Are you meant to be here, or should you get out? Have you died?

The two of you follow the same path leading back to the bar. Ghost is quiet, but it does not feel uncomfortable. His hand is cold and rough, yet it feels more inviting than any other touch you have ever felt. Your body fills with nerves, not quite knowing what to expect. Sure, you met the man with the cigar before, but that was while you were freaking out.

Ghost opens up the door, the music of the bar and the smell of booze nearly hitting you in the face. Some eyes are on you again, but Simon is quick to shield you and guide you to his favourite booth in the corner of the bar. He does not sit down until you do, someone quickly coming over to your table.

"Ghost! What can I get ya?"

"A whiskey."

"And for the lady?"

You look from Simon to the man, raising your eyebrows for a second. You do not drink any alcohol, but you are not sure what else they have.

"Just a water, thank you."

The man nods, walking off to go and get your drinks. It takes only seconds for Price to pop up, a big glass in his hands already.

"Simon! Little lady, how good to see you again. Have you adjusted a bit already? Sim- Ghost here can be a bit cold and rough around the edges."

"Oh!" You look at Simon, an amused smile on your face, "He has been an absolute dear. Why? Are you not used to that?"

Price lets out a loud laugh, moving a chair to the table before sitting down on it. He takes a gulp of the beer before placing it down onto the table. Simon being a 'dear'? Has she met the same man? All that John is used to is the icy and stoic demeanour, the cold stares and low groans. He does have to say that Simon seems... different.

When Price had not gotten any replies from Simon, he immediately thought of the worst. Captured by the enemy, shot on the field - he had to have been dead. It wasn't until a few months after where John himself lost his life, running into one of his life long friends in the afterlife. Simon was sitting at the bar, his gaze set on a half empty glass of whiskey, not really talking or looking at anyone. It was a relief to finally know what had happened to his friend, even if it meant both of them weren't living anymore.

"A dear? I have heard people call him a lot of things, but a 'dear' is not one of them. Good to hear, though," he takes another swig of his beer, "I have known this guy for years and years, never seen him be this nice or trust someone this fast before."

The comments make you feel special. How could you not? Price has known Simon for much longer than you have, and to hear this, kind of makes you feel flattered. Is it weird? You are to be wed to someone else, though. But... You are wed already? How odd that is. How could you even explain that to your parents?

Two glasses get placed in front of you and Simon, whiskey and water respectively. You quietly thank the server before sipping the water. It does not taste any different. Why did you even think it would?

"That is very sweet to hear. Here I was, thinking he would want to get rid of me as fast as he could," you let out a short laugh.

"Now, why would I?"

Ghost lifts up the bottom of his mask, the glass of bourbon lifted to his lips. This is the first time you have seen him without it, even if only partially.

You can't help but stare.

There are scars littering the part of his face you can see and you simply can not help but wonder what the rest of his face looks like. Simon places his glass back down and goes to pull his mask down again, but he can see you looking at him. He glances at you for a second before blinking once, pulling the mask off of his face entirely.

You immediately look back to your glass of water. Had he noticed your stares? It makes your cheeks feel warm, and the action makes Price lean back in his chair, a grin on his face as he lights the cigar. It takes a few seconds before you lift your gaze again, eyes meeting Simon as you breathe in deeply.

Behind this mask, behind the skull, lies what looks like an angel. He might as well be - this is some type of heaven, after all. Every single detail fits him so well. His eyelashes, the freckle on his cheek, his lips, his nose. All of them match together in a way that is absolutely perfect.

"Well," Price coughs, grinning before lifting his cup again, "Have you decided on where you will be stayin'? Simon's house is not very inviting, is it?"

Where will you be staying? Should you even stay in this world at all? Your parents must be worried, right? They will be looking for you, if they even know where to start. God, they must be fuming.

"A coffin is oddly comfortable," you mumble, sipping the water, "Whiskers seems to like it too. But -"

"A new arrival!"

Everyone immediately looks over to the voice, a crowd already forming, the same way as they did to you. You now understand why. Curiosity pulls on you, wanting you to go and find out who it is.

A jug of beer immediately gets brought over to the 'new arrival' and he seems to drink it the second he can. His figure, the outline, it looks oh so familiar. It is not until the person moves to the side that you see who it is.

"Shepherd!"

You jump up from your seat, leaving behind a confused Ghost and Price. You can not believe it - Shepherd is dead? His skin is more pale than you remember it being, but he does not seem to have any scars or wounds on him.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Shepherd... Oh goodness, what happened to you?"

The man scoffs, shaking his head as he takes a swig from his beer. He does not dislike you, you had always been kind, but your parents were an entirely different story.

"Nothing you should worry about, miss."

"Please, Shepherd, call me Y/N," you furrow your eyebrows, looking up at him, "How... How is it up there? How are mother and father? Mister MacTavish?"

"Word is going around, Y/N. You on the bridge, disappearing into the woods with an unknown man. Have you run off? Have you been killed?"

"No! No, I..."

How can you explain yourself? You had accidentally married someone who was not Johnny, now living in the underworld while still being alive. He would not believe that, would he?

"Something just happened and that is why I am here. I wonder if I should go back up," you whisper, "How about mother and father? Are they looking for me?"

The man feels bad for you. Your parents had done absolutely nothing to come and find you, barely getting off of the luxurious sofa to move to their luxurious beds in their luxurious rooms. The only person who seemed to care about your wellbeing was mister MacTavish.

"Sorry, Y/N," Shepherd shakes his head, "Last I heard, nothing happened. Mister and Mrs. Y/L/N have been either in the drawing room or in their chambers. Mister MacTavish seems so be looking for you, but his parents are forbidding it. It is said he is to marry miss Graves, the lady that had come in during the rehearsal. The wedding is set soon, maybe even tomorrow."

Johnny is to marry someone else?

Your heart should hurt, your ego should be dented, yet you don't feel ashamed at all. Maybe she fits him better. She seems put together, perfect, rich and famous. It would help Johnny and his family out - more than your family could. Sure, they had money, but miss Graves seems like the complete package.

"They left me?"

"Sorry, Y/N."

You blink before swallowing, your throat feeling swollen and closed. What else had you expected?

"I will see you around, Shepherd. Thank you for all that you have done for me."

You have mixed feelings. Do you even want to go back up to the surface after knowing that your parents did not care at all? Johnny seems to be the only one that even remotely cared, and even he is not allowed to come and find you. The path back to the table is slow, your mind distracted and your feelings conflicted.

"You okay, love?"

Ghost his cup had already nearly been emptied, while your glass still remained full.

"Yes. Just a familiar face, is all."

It was only the two of you, now. Price had gone off, probably refilling his pint. Simon looks from you, to the glass, and back to you. You seem so... different. Is it the shock from seeing someone you know? He remembers how he felt when Price suddenly stood in front of him.

What are you to do now? You have never felt as at home as here, never felt this cared for, never felt this comfortable. But, is it your time yet? You look back at Simon, thoughts racing through your head as you try to pick what you should be doing. The right thing, the expected thing, is to return from where you came from. But, is that also the thing that you want to do? It seems like no one upstairs cared that you had gone missing.

"What is keeping your pretty little head so busy, love?"

"Do you think I could go up to the surface?"

It is like all the chattering in the room suddenly quieted down, Simon his mind racing and his non-beating heart nearly falling out of his chest. Go back up? Leave him all alone?

"I just... In order for me to stay here, I need to finish things up... Up there."

You have to say goodbye, at least to Johnny. You can't leave him in the dark like that - he must be worried. He must be the only one worried if he was the only one looking for you. If you run into your parents, you might bid them goodbye too, though you know all they will do is be disappointed and maybe even upset that you came back.

You want to come back after it?

The thought feels relieving to him. How can he deny you of it? After all, he kind of brought you into this entire situation, so the least he could offer was to help you work out your final wish.

"I might know a way."

The walk to whatever destination Ghost was heading to, was much longer than the walk to his home. The road is rocky, and the closer you got to the destination, the quieter it seems to get.

"This person knows how to do anything."

In front of you is a discreet building. Small, but very sleek and clean. You hesitantly follow Ghost inside of the building, met with stacks of books and papers. Are you trespassing? What are the laws and rules in the land of the dead?

"Simon 'Ghost' Riley, always a pleasure."

"Laswell. Good to see you."

An older woman walks around the corner, pushing the last pin into her bun as she looks over at you.

"And a guest."

"My wife," Simon nods, looking at the woman, "We need to go upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

Laswell, as Ghost says, walks over to a desk, sitting down on the corner of it while never looking away from the two of you.

"What the hell do you need from upstairs?"

"It's not for me. It is for her," he squeezes your hand, "She needs to say goodbye. Unfinished business, and all that."

"Going upstairs is one hell of a mission, Ghost. You know that."

"I know, Laswell," he groans, "Just this once."

The woman looks from him to you, sighing before nodding. She then stands up, rummaging through some cabinets before pulling out an item.

"My dogtags? You still got 'em?"

"Sure as hell. Copies, even," she nods, "Put these on at the same time, and you will go up there. Don't be too long, Ghost. To return back, all you say is 'Affirmative'. Back to the good old days."

Both of you receive the dogtags, your fingers softly rubbing over the texture of them. 'Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley, Task Force 141'. It is such a personal item - it does not surprise you that this will take you back.

"Don't take too long. I have no idea on how your body will react by being upstairs."

Simon simply nods, putting the dogtags on himself before you follow his lead. The room gets misty, the dust getting into your nose as you sneeze. The second you open your eyes, you are right back to where you were before. Woods behind you, the bridge underneath you, and Ghost next to you.

It is still the middle of the night, the moon high up in the sky and the streets quiet. It almost looks like no time has passed at all, but according to Shepherd, at least one day has gone by. Though he was up here not that long ago, it feels so different to Simon. The moon here is brighter than it is down below, its light illuminating you in an even more beautiful way than he could have ever expected.

"So," you quietly say, fiddling with your hands, "How should we do this?"

We.

"Don't know, love," Simon looks around. Should he have taken his mask? He had completely forgotten about it, "Where do ya need to be?"

"That tall house, over there."

All lights were already off. They must be asleep. Your mother, your father... everyone is inside.

"Let me walk you there. I will be outside, making sure you're safe."

You gratefully nod, slowly leading him to the home. How will you even enter? Through the front door, or maybe you have to climb through a window? The only person you need to see is Johnny.

When you walk by the side of the mansion, you see the flickering of a candle. Immediately you stop moving. Is someone still up? From inside of the home you hear shuffling, the sound coming closer and closer before stopping in front of the window.

Johnny.

Furrowed eyebrows, his arms crossed, and his eyes fixated on the bridge that you had just come from. He is the only one looking out for you. At least, in this world. It is good that he is on the lowest level - no climbing up balconies.

You softly knock on the window, Ghost standing a few meters away from you, as you try and get his attention. It seems to nearly scare Johnny as he jumps from the sudden sound, his eyes growing big once he sees what caused it. You see him mouth your name before quickly opening the window.

"Y/N?!"

"Shh," you quickly whisper, looking behind him, "Yes, it is me."

"Where have ya been? Wait - come inside!"

"Johnny, I can't. It's... It is a long story, but I could not leave you behind without any answers."

He looks at you with a bewildered look on his face. You are speaking nonsense, the cryptic messages not nearly enough to build up an answer.

"I have to go soon, but none of that is your fault, John," you continue, "I just do not fit in here. My mother and father... I was told they did not even bat an eye when I disappeared. You deserve so much better than that, Johnny. The blonde woman, she seems rich and kind, she can give you the life you need. The one your parents want."

"What if I don't want 'er?" He whispers back, leaning out of the window, "Our parents are despicable. Your parents did not pay any mind to you disappearing, and mine did not let me go out to find you. Neither of us are in good hands."

Should you truly leave him behind? Or do you need to be selfish, just this once? Because, what do you truly have here? Shepherd is down below, your parents do not care, you are barely allowed to have your own opinions... Johnny would be the only good thing left. But down below is where you feel free, welcomed, safe.

"It is a situation that I could not even begin to explain, Johnny," even though you really wish you could, "But they do not care about me. They want to be famous, high up on the ladder... If your parents only need money, you might be better off with the other lady. I care about you, truly, and that is why this sounds like the best choice. Maybe... Maybe I can come by once in a while."

"Yeah," Johnny slowly nods, "But I still don't understand. I have to tell them you're back, I-"

"Love, we have to go."

A low voice speaks up, one that Johnny has never heard of before.

"I'm sorry, Johnny."

"Affirmative."

The smoke engulfs you once more, leaving a confused and cold Johnny behind. Where had you run of to? Why had you left him behind? Whatever is going on, he still has to wed. Miss Graves it shall be.

You are back in the small home belonging to Laswell, the dogtags now in your hands instead of around your neck. You slowly hand it back to the woman, your heart still racing and your mind chaotic.

"Thank you, Laswell."

The journey back to Ghost his home starts, though the way back home seems to go much faster. You feel relieved, in a way. You can now stay here, a place that has accepted you much faster than the other world ever could, no matter how absurd it might be.

"Who was he?"

You look up to Simon, his shiny eyes looking down at you.

"A... friend, I guess. Couldn't leave him behind without answers."

He hums, his thumb softly rubbing your hand. He can not believe that you are here to stay. Finally, after countless years, he has been given the chance to become a husband, and he would love to do nothing more than be the best husband one could ever be.

Ghost opens the door to his home, making sure you are safe inside before closing it behind him again. On his bed - coffin, sit a new pile of blankets and pillows.

"Got Gaz to put 'em there. Figured you might be cold, otherwise."

You smile up at him. You truly are here to stay.

"Thank you, Simon. Truly."

You can't help but stare at him. His face is so beautifully sculpted, so unlike anything you have ever seen. His hand is on your lower back as he guides you to the coffin, sitting down on the seat right next to it.

"You tired, love?"

You hum in response, moving some of the blankets around before sitting down.

"You go to sleep, okay? I overheard that there will be a party when you wake up. Newlyweds, huh?"

A giggle leaves from you as you nod, laying down on the coffin as Ghost leans over, pressing a soft, cold kiss to your forehead before sitting back in his chair. It takes not even minutes before you are asleep, wrapped up in layers of blankets.

After two hours, a knock sounds on the door, much too loud for Simon his liking. Do they not know you are asleep?

He stands up, reaching for the doorknob, but what he sees behind confuses him. Not only John, but also Laswell stand outside.

"Simon, we need to talk."

"Quietly," he whispers. "Y/N is sleeping."

John and Laswell look at each other for a moment before looking back at the tall man in front of them.

"It's about her."

"What about her?"

"Ghost... There is a complication with your marriage."

His marriage?

"What is it? Hope you guys aren't mad that she wasn't quite what you expected. Price, you said you didn't care that she was a breather-"

"Simon," Laswell firmly says, shutting the man up, "That is the entire thing. The vows... They are binding only till death do you part. The situation is... death has already parted you. The vows have never been real. Not in that sense, at least."

You groan softly, the different voices and sounds waking you up. You rub your eyes, though keeping them closed.

"What are you saying? Is she going to leave me to go back upstairs?"

"The chance is always there, Ghost. The vows simply do not bind the two of you together. There is only one way of it working."

"Well?"

"You aren't going to like it. It requires a great sacrifice."

"What do I have to do?" SImon ruffles his hair in frustration, "What do I have to give up?"

"It is not you, mate," Price looks down at the ground, "It's her. In order to get around the rules, she has to be... dead."

Dead?

Why had you never thought of that. 'Till death do us part', but that did not apply to you, Simon had already been dead.

"She will have to give it all up to stay here. She is young, Ghost," Laswell continues, "It is a hard choice. You would have to repeat the vows in the land of the living, and she would have to be poisoned or killed to come back here. Her heart can't be yours so long as it is still beating."

You slowly sit up in the bed, just out of their view. Simon is standing with his back toward you, shaking his head and rubbing his face.

"I will not ask that of her, are you fuckin' insane?"

"You don't have to ask me," you mumble, standing up and walking over to the group, "I will do it."

Ghost opens his mouth to object, but Laswell is earlier.

"If you choose this option, you can never return to the land above again. It is not an easy choice, Y/N."

"I won't miss anything there. They will not miss me, either."

If Simon could, he would be crying now. Are you truly willing to give it all up, for him? To actually make the scary step to be here forever?

"Well, let's get to preparing, huh?"

You can now understand why Price was the leader of his force. In only half an hour, he has organized an entire trip to the upstairs, a well-planned plan of attack, and, even a menu for the wedding. No cockroaches or spiders this time.

You should be terrified. You are going to be dead in a few hours. Is it more comforting to know exactly when you are going to die? You can prepare for it. Besides, you have seen the afterlife already.

Laswell is carrying the poisoned wine, and Price is holding the book with vows. Simon insisted that he should marry the two of you - that was the original plan for any wedding anyway.

It is quite odd how the afterlife is more lively than life itself.

Upstairs, the wedding between John MacTavish and the, now, Mrs. Graves has gone through, the small amount of visitors there seated in the dining area. Johnny sits with a scowl on his face, pushing the food around on his plate. He does not want to say he was in love with you, he had only talked to you for five minutes in total, but he already knew that you would be much better company than the woman next to him.

"Attention, everyone," she stands up with a sickly sweet voice, clinking her glass. No one was talking to begin with, "I am so utmost grateful and I am filled with joy to know that John MacTavish is officially my husband. Fate has brought us together, and nothing can take us apart."

The fireplace between the couple suddenly erupts in big flames, all who came from the underworld, now ascending back upstairs. Chaos fills the room, the living and the dead combined. Screaming, running, trying to leave the house as fast as possible. Even Lord and Lady MacTavish run out screaming, the most emotion they have portrayed in years.

In only a few minutes, the entire room is cleared, except for Johnny and Graves. He only stands there in shock, too confused to even move.

"That's it!" She hisses angrily, turning to Johnny, "We need to take all the money and get out of here! This is ridiculous."

"Money?" MacTavish scoffs, "What money?"

"Don't act stupid. I'm your wife now! I have the right to access your money!"

"We don't have any money," a laugh erupts from Johnny, "I married you for the money. Don't want my parents to end up in the poor house."

"No money?! You are lying!"

"Why? Are things not going according to your plan, Graves?"

Outside, there is an entire parade, all heading for the big church. A wedding has to take place, no matter what. Cakes, gifts, flowers. All are being taken to the venue, ready for the wedding of their beloved corpse husband. Some of these spirits have waited just as long as Ghost to see him get married.

He stands at the aisle already, you slowly making your way down it with a nervous smile on your face. Every seat in the church is occupied, both by the living and the dead. It surprised you, all of them knew each other in one way or another.

"We are gathered here today to join this corpse and this woman in marriage," Price starts, clearing his throat.

Johnny had stormed out of the house, leaving Graves by herself, only to be met with a large group of people outside. Where are they heading at this time of the day? Curiosity pulls on him, and so he decides to follow their trail.

"Y/N?"

A soft whisper, his eyes set on you standing next to this other man, right in the place where he was mere hours ago.

"Ladies first. Miss Y/N, your vows."

You turn to Simon, a big smile on your face as you nod, taking hold of his hands.

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine," just as you had said in the woods, picking up the fancy chalice.

"And now for you, Simon."

"With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty," he slowly picks up the pitcher, filling up your glass, "For I -"

He stops talking when he spots a figure behind you. John MacTavish, dressed in a neat suit and a flower tucked in the pocket of his jacket.

You blink up at him, furrowed brows and the chalice of poison in your hands.

"For I will be..."

Come on, Simon. This is all you have ever dreamed off. You have fought for years and years, escaped death for so many of them, and now you finally have the chance to settle. To find peace, to find love, to find comfort.

"Go on, Ghost."

"I - Your cup, will never empty. For I will be..."

He can't.

"You will be my wine," you finish for him, a small smile on your face as you look up to him, adoration in your eyes.

You lift the chalice to your lips, wanting to take a sip, but a skeleton hand stops you. Whispers and mumbles fill the church - is the groom having second thoughts? Does he not want to marry you, after all?

"Y/N... I can't," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

"Why can't you? What's wrong, Simon?"

"This is wrong. I... I was a husband before. A groom. My dream was ripped from me," he looks behind you, "And now I am ripping it away from someone else."

Is this the sacrifice that Laswell was talking about? It feels like his heart is being stabbed yet again.

"I love you, Y/N. Heart and soul... But you are not mine."

He gestures at the figure behind you, making you turn around. Johnny stands behind you, shocked look on his face, his hands clammy and sweaty. Ghost his limbs feel like they might fall off, shaking as he gestures at Johnny yet again.

"Johnny?"

He slowly comes walking over, standing on your other side as Ghost slips off the ring that you had put around his finger, placing it in Johnny his hand.

"Oh, how touching!"

A sarcastic voice.

"You nearly had me crying! Two lovers, together at last! Surely this means they can live happily ever after," the woman strolls down the aisle, her dress white and a sarcastic grin on her face. "Yet you seem to forget one thing. That, is my husband."

The woman pulls Johnny as close as she can.

"I will not leave here empty handed. And that is not a threat," she glares at you, "That is a guarantee."

"You."

A low whisper, Simon staring at the blonde woman in front of him. Her shoulders drop, her grip on Johnny loosening for just a second.

"Simon?"

"It's you."

"How are you here?" She stammers, "I left you."

You look from Johnny to Simon to Graves. Is this the woman who, quite literally, broke his heart? Killed him, only to leave him for dead?

The crowd gasps, realization setting in. From a pocket of her dress, she pulls a knife, holding it to Johnny his throat, glaring at everyone in the room.

"Leave us alone! We must be on our way," she hisses, trying to back up and leave the church, but her path is obstructed.

Angry faces, corpses and skeleton alike, surround the woman. You step forward, glancing at Johnny before looking at the woman.

"Let him go."

"Why? Do I have to kill you, too?"

This sets something off in Ghost.

Him being killed is one thing - he was foolish enough to believe her lies. The fake love, emotions, promises. He thought they were real, but you have nothing to do with his past mistakes. He storms to Graves, overpowering her by pushing her to the ground as Johnny escapes her grip.

"Simon!"

You try to get closer to them, to get through the crowd, but that is nearly impossible. People are trying to hold everyone in the church, Ghost chasing after the woman. How dare she threaten you?

But then, she averts her eyes to you. You, the person who came back. The person who is destroying her plan. Instead of running from Ghost, she now runs at you, the same knife in her hands. You are frozen, shocked, confused.

Just as she is about to embed the knife in you, something stops her. You get pushed to the ground, and when you open your eyes back up, you see Simon, towering over you. The knife sticks in his chest, the very same spot where this exact knife landed just a few years ago.

He pulls it out, clenching it so hard that the bones in his hand nearly let loose.

"Touché," Graves hisses, clearly not amused by his little stunt.

"Get out," Simon only responds, his voice so low and dark that you nearly did not believe it was his.

Is this what he was like when he was alive? As a soldier, as an enemy?

"Oh, I am leaving," the blonde laughs, still as cocky as ever, "But first! A toast to dear Simon Riley."

She picks up the chalice that you had put down, filled to the brim with deep red wine. She furrows her eyebrows, a mocking grin on her face as she raises her glass.

"Always the best man, yet never the husband," she raises an eyebrow before putting the glass to her lips. "Tell me, Simon. Can a heart still break once it has stopped beating, hm?"

No response.

An icy look thrown her way, yet no attempt to stop her from drinking the wine. Price looks from Simon to the woman, knowing damn well why he is not stopping her. As a living person, the underworld has no right to do anything. But even one sip of the wine, and they can have their way.

"To you, Simon," the chalice emptied in only seconds, "And thank you, for the wine."

She goes to step off of the platform, one last look before walking back down the aisle. So confident, yet that only lasts for a mere seconds as she doubles over, gasping for breath and her hands gripping the ground.

She is dead.

When she turns around, her skin is lifeless, her eyes big and her hands gripping her throat.

"Go on," Price nods, the group closing in on the woman before guiding her back downstairs. It is what she deserves.

Price is the last one to walk through the door, giving you one last comforting yet sad smile before disappearing.

"Are ye okay?" Johnny his warm hands grip your cheeks, shock still evident in his face.

In only an hour, he has gone from a husband to a widower.

"I... Yeah, I am okay," you whisper, looking past Johnny and at SImon.

The man blinks once, a sad smile on his face, his shoulders dropping as he nods, turning around to walk away. Johnny looks at him and back at you, backing off for a second. If Simon allowed you to say goodbye, then so will Johnny.

You run down the aisle as Simon had gotten quite far already, calling out his name.

"Simon... But I promised you."

"And you kept it. We were married, love," he looks down at you, a lone tear in his eye, "And you made me the happiest person. But you belong with him. It is not your time to go, not yet."

He reaches into his pocket, a pair of dog tags in his hand.

"These are the original ones, no copy from Laswell," he looks at them before dropping them in your hand, "Thank you, Y/N. Forever and always."

And there he went.

Down the street, over the bridge, and back into the soil of the dark woods.

#simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #call of duty imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #corpse bride! ghost

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