#I have many more gripes but that’s enough for now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cursedcola · 2 months

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

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

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

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

Enough said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silver envies gold.

........

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

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

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

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

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

.........

Silver admires gold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s cold.

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

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

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

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

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

The tea goes cold, yet you are warm.

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

Silver loves gold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gold loves silver, so Silver he will be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silver and gold.

Everyone wishes for silver and gold.

How do you measure it's worth?

Just by the pleasure it gives here on earth.

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

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ddejavvu · 5 months

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Anakin would totally paint your nails for you 🫢

You're willing to bet a lot of credits that you're the only person who's ever gotten a manicure while pinned down. You'd begun the task of painting your nails alone, but when Anakin had volunteered to help with your dominant hand, you'd let him take over. And you should have remembered that once Anakin takes on a task, he will get it done, and he will get it done right. So when you'd twitched your fingers one too many times out of sheer human nature, Anakin had decided he needed to revoke your privilege to move.

His knees are digging into the small of your back and he's got your hand clutched in his own. You assume he's biting the inside of his cheek, the way he does when he's really concentrating on something, when he gets so deep into the zone that he needs to be physically prodded to remember where he is. But an assumption is all it is; you can't see him because your cheek is smashed into the mattress below you.

"Stop moving." Anakin drones, his voice monotonous like the droids he tinkers with.

"I'm not moving!" You exclaim, doing the very thing he accuses you of only now, and wriggling slightly beneath his hefty, muscle-packed weight, "Anakin, you've got my hands pinned behind my back. You're gonna bruise me with how tight you're holding onto them, you really think I could move if I tried?"

"Well clearly you can, because you just did," He gripes, shifting his weight so that one of his knees holds more than the other, digging into your back harder, "Just sit still, baby, I'm almost done."

"They don't need to be perfect," You try, hoping for the best but expecting the worse, "Anakin, I mean it, just slap a coat on the last few and let me go, please? You're heavy, and my back hurts, and-"

You can't process the feeling of one of his hands lifting away from your own until it's already gripping the back of your head and turning it towards the mattress, then pushing your face into it. You let out a muffled shout that you're aggravated is part-laugh as Anakin smothers you in the sheets, keeping pressure on your head long enough to complain, "You talk too much. Keep quiet 'til I finish, motormouth."

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gay-dorito-dust · 11 months

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Miguel barely allowed himself the moment of reprieve primarily for the reasoning that evil never sleeps and therefore by that logic, he shouldn’t have to either; or at least minimise his sleep to accommodate for longer night patrols. His desire to keep his city safe was admirable but soon become detrimental to his health as his body -despite the genetic splicing- was starting to collapse on him due to frequent neglect of the basic bodily needs.

It hurts you to see him like that and you knew that if he were to be confronted about it, Miguel would immediately become dismissive by stating that this method was completely logical from his standpoint, as it was a means to minimise the criminal activity within the city. Miguel always thought it was his responsibility to crack down on the crime rate, even though there were people who’s jobs were to do exactly that, but in Miguel’s eyes their methods of detaining criminals was comparatively a slap on the wrist as to what punishment they should be receiving.

All came ahead one night when he returned home particularly more battered then usual and on the verge of collapse; you were quick to act in stabilising his upper body in your arms but in due to his muscular form, you were both forcibly brought down to kneeling in the dimly light room that had the curtains drawn for convenience.

‘Miguel, what happened out there?’ You said as softly as you could as you moved your hands to hold his jaw with tenderness, as to not inflict more pain by accidentally applying pressure to the many cuts and bruises that littered his worn but handsome face. ‘Just caught a bad night, it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ He tells you as he’s pushing your hands away from his face, thinking that would be enough to reassure you when all it only proved to do was the opposite effect; Even as your watching him make an valiant effort to stand but from the way he was griping onto the bed frame like a lifeline or crutch, it wasn’t hard to tell that whatever happened out that had already begun to take it’s hold long before he arrived home.

Riddled with worry and annoyance at how nonchalant he was about his condition, you soon got up off the floor and made a reach for his arm that was leaning reliantly on the bedpost, feeling the muscles as they tensed under your touch. ‘This isn’t just nothing though, is it Miguel. I mean look at you, you’re barely able to walk on your own without needing something to use for support.’ You heard him sigh deeply as he then spoke. ‘How I’m doing hasn’t got anything to do with you, y/n, I’m capable of looking after myself.’

His words were with thinly laced with venom but you merely scoffed, knowing by now that he didn’t have it in him to hurt you, not that he ever would, he’d never forgive himself if you hurt on his watch and by his hands by that, but his stubbornness and inability to let others help him had finally became his Achilles heel. ‘You know damn well that’s not what I was implying, I know you can handle yourself in the most toughest of situations but is it such a disservice to yourself to rely on others now and then.’ Miguel didn’t say anything and you took that as your cue to keep talking while you still had his attention.

‘Look,’ you stepped closer to him so that you could see his face, his brows were heavily furrowed and his jaw was in the motion of clenching but flinched when reaching a particularly bruised spot; He looked like the image of what you thought a war torn angel would look like, he bared his flaws like scars that were scattered across his perfectly sculptured body whilst also keeping intact his god gifted beauty.

Miguel was perfect in every way to you but to himself he might as well have been the devil reincarnate. ‘I know you want to help the city but how can you when your own body is falling apart before you. You can shoulder the responsibility all you want but sooner or later that responsibility is going to start crushing you under it’s immeasurable weight and no matter how hard you push back, it’ll only push back harder.’ You trailed your hand down his arm until it rested upon the back of his much larger, stronger one and squeezing it. ‘I just wish you trusted me more because I’m more then willing to help but I can’t if you aren’t willing to let me.’

You both stood in silence as the nightlife of the city just outside the window continued on undisrupted and unaware of your squabble, all that could be heard was your in tandem breathing and the muffled laughter of passersby, which only felt to have gotten louder with the time spent without a response from the male next to you as your hope for Miguel to see reason seemed to dwindle; why couldn’t he see that you were merely thinking of his well-being and didn’t wish to see him end up dead in an alleyway you couldn’t reach.

You didn’t know if you could bare to stomach something like that ever being the possibility and you didn’t wish to be plagued by the what ifs, going insane by wondering how differently things would’ve turned out had you stepped in earlier and you certainly didn’t want to be burdened with the guilt and the depression that would soon follow afterward to remind you of your shortcomings; You didn’t wish that ending for Miguel for he deserved a far better one that ended on his own terms.

Just as you were about to give up all hope and leave him to his own devices, begrudgingly accepting that you couldn’t get through to him, the hand you were grasping moved to intertwine your fingers together, although gingerly as though Miguel was half expecting you to pull away but when you didn’t, his hand then proceeded encased yours entirely. ‘For the record I do trust you.’ He said. ‘I probably trust you more then I’ve ever trusted anyone for you’ve never made me think twice about ever placing my trust in you because you always end up proving why I chose to let you in. I’m sorry that I don’t open up as easily when it comes to help but I just didn’t want to make your life more of a incoherent mess because of me.’

‘My life was already an incoherent mess before you came along, if anything the moment you became apart of my everyday life it became a little more clearer to me as to what to do with my life.’ You told him.

‘And what’s that?’ He asked.

You smirked as you nudged his arm slightly. ‘To make sure your stubborn ass doesn’t get killed prematurely.’

Miguel scoffed but couldn’t help the smile stretching across his lips at the sound of your laughter, something that was much needed after a night like tonight as to remind him what he was coming home to after every patrol; the heavenly sound that was your laugh he swore had some hidden abilities for each and every time he heard it, he immediately felt better. ‘That’s funny but I’m pretty sure I’m we should be doing something about now.’ He responded blankly but you could see the humour in his scarlet eyes.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o’hara imagine #Miguel o’hara fic #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv x you #spiderman atsv imagine #spiderman atsv fic #spiderverse x reader

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daydreaming-nerd · 15 days

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Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 9

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 10

AN: Okay remember when I said there would be a lot more angst? Well here we are. We have arrived at angst station, everybody off the train. This part is so dramatic I really laid it on thick here. Regardless I hope you enjoy and I will try to get part 10 up ASAP!!!

Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?

Warnings: Sexism, super heavy angst, this got really dark, violence, blood, implied rape (but not described), did I mention violence?, (I'm sorry you guys.)

Word Count: 6,333

The next morning I wake up in my own bed and I don’t move for hours.

Thankfully, after about an hour of crying by the Sidra, Azriel found me and took me back to the House of Wind. Apparently Cassian had sent him, which gave me a little bit of hope. That is until I went to his door and found his room empty. According to Azriel he left for Windhaven after returning home to pack a bag. I didn’t need to interrogate further to know that Cassian wouldn’t be back before the wedding.

I spent the entire day before the wedding in bed, staring at the sliver of light on the floor that the curtains let into the darkened room. Everytime I close my eyes I could hear Cassian and I’s laughter, which made me unable to fall asleep. When I wasn’t reminiscing over memories of Cassian I was listening intently to the sounds of the house, hoping I would hear his heavy boots thudding back to his room. I just wanted to see him one last time.

However, those footsteps never came, and I found myself staring at the wall until my body gave up on me, from either exhaustion or hunger and I fell asleep.

Cassian’s pov:

The second I landed in Windhaven I cracked open a bottle of whiskey and downed a glass praying it would allow me to sleep. Of course I was wrong.

The entire night I saw images of y/n holding that little girl in her arms. God I had practically melted right then and there, thinking about what she would look like holding our own children. How adorable they would be with their tiny wings.

My sleepless night had carried over with me the next day, everything and everyone putting me on edge. A young Illyrian had dropped their sword while sparring and I blew up at him. Devlon tried to argue that the females shouldn’t be training and I nearly slammed his head into a wall.

I was aggressively sharpening my swords on the edge of the sparring ring when Azriel found me, my brother simply nodded his head towards the center as if to say “blow off some steam big fella.” I couldn’t turn him down, as he was the only one who could give me a run for my money, and today he sure did.

“You fight like shit and you look like shit too brother,” Azriel barked after beating me again. He tossed his sword to the ground seemingly calling it quits for the day.

“Yeah well my mate is about to marry another male in the next 12 hours so how did you expect to find me?” I gripe at him taking my seat on a weathered rock.

“I suppose I wouldn’t know what to do in your situation either,” he admitted, taking a seat next to me.

“Seems about right for me. Grew up a bastard and lived in the mud till you and Rhys’ sorry asses came along. Lost my mother and never even got to bury her, fought for 500 years, and then became mated to the princess, who is marrying another male.” I scoff, shaking my head at the ridiculousness. “I’ll give the mother one thing, at least she’s consistent.”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, as if taking in what I had said before clapping a hand on my back, “The pain, it will go away Cass. It will take time, but I will be there with you every step of the way.” he assured me, and for a moment I felt a little lighter.

“Get wasted with me tomorrow?” I ask more seriously than I should.

“You know I will,” he said, offering me a slight smile.

I hoped that Rhys had gotten some more whiskey since the last time I raided his cabinet, because I don’t think any amount of drink could make me forget the way she looked at me the first morning we woke up together. The way she would laugh when I kissed her cheeks, the feeling of her delicate hands running soap over my wings. How she would say “you need a bath!” when I would give her a sweaty hug after training. The face she made when I distracted her from one of her romance novels by tickling her feet that rested in my lap.

By the cauldron, I was a dead man.

y/n's pov:

Stepping into the Autumn Court felt like I was walking to my own execution. Instead of Eris being at the end of that aisle there would be a guillotine. I almost wished for that instead. Any comment made by Rhys about how I seemed tired I chalked up to pre-wedding nerves and thankfully he didn’t push after that.

The entire morning had been spent poking and prodding at my skin, my hair and my eyes. If I thought that Nuala and Cerridwen were meticulous I was sorely mistaken. The ladies of the Autumn Court didn’t mess around and if this was my life going forward (which sadly it was), cauldron boil me.

The ladies in wait primped me up until a half an hour before I walked down the aisle. I had to literally commande them out of my suite in order to have a moment alone. I sat staring at myself in the floor length mirror. For what it was worth, I looked beautiful. I half expected the dress that was chosen for me to be awful and gaudy, however it was elegant. The lace along the neckline mimicking the flames associated with Eris’ power. Had I been walking down the aisle to a different groom, I might venture to say that I was excited to be married. However as I stared at myself in my white wedding dress I couldn’t help but feel a tear slide down my face.

A tentative knock reverberated through the room, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I took a deep breath and wiped away a stray tear.

“Come in,” I said with shaky words looking at the double oak doors through the mirror before me.

The door opened slowly, whoever it was looking around the room before entering. A large figure finally popped it’s head in, eyes finding me immediately. I would know that jet black hair anywhere.

Cassian.

I whirled around to meet his gaze as he shut the door, taking slow and tentative steps towards me. His eyes searched my face for any hint of anger or resentment.

“Cass,” I breathed, as if to assure myself he was really there.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled looking me up and down, but I could see the veiled sadness on his face. He was putting on a front, and a bad one at that.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a tentative step towards him. “How did you get in here?”

“They don’t have you that well guarded,” he chuckled, stepping closer till he stood before me. Neither of us reached for one another, unsure of where we both stood. It felt wrong not to instantly wrap my arms around him. “I don’t like where we left things,” he continued.

“Neither do I,”

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I yelled at you that night. I’m sorry about the things I said,” he starts again. His hands reach for mine but pull back as if afraid to touch me. “I wanted to say that I understand now. And that I think you are incredibly brave to be doing this for Velaris. I’ll never be happy that you’re marrying Eris, and I’ll always wish it was me. But I understand now, and I respect the love you have for your people, and the lengths you’re willing to go to to keep them safe. Will you forgive me?”

I feel the stray tear pricking my eye once more, “There was never anything to forgive Cass. I was more upset with myself for giving you false hope. For going along and loving you and acting like things were going to be alright when I couldn’t guarantee it.” I sigh, casting my head down, unable to face him.

I feel his gentle calloused hand tip my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes, that beautiful hazel, glassed over. Despite it all, despite what I put him through, there is still so much love in them, and I know I’ll never really deserve it.

“Loving you was the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and ever will know,” he smiles as if he’s remembering the short time we did have together. “I’ll be here waiting if you should ever change your mind or in case something ever happens.”

“Cass,” I start to protest but he stops me.

“I’ve loved you for so many years y/n. There can be no one else but you. If I don’t get to have you until we are both old and gray so be it. I’ve waited this long,” he assures me cupping my cheek.

I don’t even have words to reply to his confession. Boundaries be damned. I threw myself around him pulling him as close as possible. His arms tighten around me like he had been waiting for me to make a move. In the embrace there’s an understanding, an unsaid agreement.

I back away to see those hazel eyes once more, my own eyes raking over his body. I notice he’s not dressed in a fine suit jacket, or even his fighting leathers. Instead, he’s donning a loose fitted shirt, something completely unfit for a royal wedding.

“You’re not staying are you?” I ask, pressing a hand to his stubbled cheek that tells me he didn’t shave this morning.

“No, I just had to see you one last time,” he answers, taking my hand from his cheek so he could hold both of them.

The weight of his words shoot right through me, and as I look at him, I let them sink in. I watched as a tear slid down his own cheek, it was the only time I had ever seen the general cry.

“One last time,” I repeated, letting the words consume me.

His eyes glanced down at my lips, a silent plea to taste them again,

“Can I?” he whispered.

“Gods yes,” I sigh.

A hand drifted up cupping my cheek and pulling me into a kiss. The last kiss we might ever share. I poured every ounce of love into it trying to give him something to remember me by, trying to savor every moment of it for when my days ahead were darkest. My chest heaved as if being pulled forward and then…

Snap.

It was as if a piece of me was returned, one I never knew I lost. I pulled back to meet his gaze and by the way he looked at me I could tell he knew, had known. I felt like I was truly seeing him for the first time as that shimmering golden bond glowed between us.

“You’re my-” I started but I jumped at the bang sounding throughout the room.

My eyes met the fiery auburn of Eris’ as he entered the room, at least twenty autumn court soldiers behind him. I didn’t have time to step away as he winnowed to me pulling me away from Cassian.

“You!” he seethed at my general who was already assessing the situation. “I had my suspicions but never the proof and you fell into my trap so easily.” he boasted.

My thoughts scrambled to what Cassian had said earlier…”They don’t have you that well guarded.”

“Restrain the bastard!” Eris ordered his grip on my arm tightening at the command.

“No!” I screamed lurching for Cassian but Eris hauled me back to him.

The soldiers were on him in an instant all of them falling like dominos before The Lord of Bloodshed. Cassian’s eyes blazed with a fury by the likes of which I had never seen before, he wasn’t a general protecting his princess. He was a male protecting his mate.

Eris’ body tensed behind mine as soldier after soldier fell. In an act of desperation I felt him unsheathe the dagger at his thigh, pressing the blade to my throat.

“Oh general,” Eris sang.

It was enough to catch Cassian’s attention for a split second, his eyes widening as he saw the position I was in. A rogue soldier used the small window of time to pull his dagger and stab it through Cassian’s side.

“NO!” I screamed as Cassian hissed, his knees hitting the floor. Immediately the rest of the soldiers were on him, restraining him and binding his wings. His siphons tried to come to light but sputtered out.

“Bloodbane,” Eris smiles, lowering the dagger from my throat. “Stings like a bitch doesn’t it?”

“Eris please, don’t do this. He’s my mate, I didn’t know until now and-”

“I would choose your next words very carefully, pet,” he cuts me off. “Right now your ‘mate’ has been stabbed with a dagger laced in bloodbane, which means that even if your dear brother did know he was here he couldn't communicate with him. As for Rhysand, he now sits in a wedding chapel completely unaware and unarmed with a bloodbane arrow aimed for his fucking throat. And last time I checked the only asset you had was a magic cunt.”

Cassain growled from the other side of the room at Eris’ vulgar words. My eyes flitted to where he was pulling against the restraints.

“However, I consider myself a merciful ruler,” Eris taunted, grabbing my face to meet his stare. “I’ll give you a choice. You either walk down that aisle, be a good little wife, and pop out a couple of heirs as promised, or you call off the wedding and I’ll gut your precious general where he kneels.”

“y/n, no!” Cassian gritted through bared teeth.

I watched my mate struggle to break free, the bloodbane in his system beginning to take over. I looked to Eris who stared at me with hungry eyes. I tried to think of some way out of this, but Eris was right. We had fallen right into this trap, and my hands were tied.

My gaze met Cassian who could read my face like a book, “I’m sorry Cassian, but I once told you that I could never live with myself if something happened to you and I had the power to stop it.” I turn to face Eris and his shit eating grin. “If you promise not to hurt him, or my brother, I will go with you.”

“You will submit to me fully?” Eris asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I nod, my mind flashing back to when Rhys was in the same position.

Eris steps closer to me, tilting my head up in an act of dominance, his mouth too close to mine for comfort. I could hear Cassian’s grunts as he continued to try and break free.

“And you’ll warm my cock whenever I please?” he muses, clearly loving the control he has over me.

“Yes,” I grit.

He smiled triumphantly, releasing my chin as he turned to his guards, “Take him away and lock him in the dungeons.”

“You said-”

“When you walk down that aisle and say ‘I do’ then I shall send him back to the Night Court, Jewel of Prythian. I won’t be taking any chances.” Eris growls in my face before turning to Cassian who had now been brought to his feet. “If I ever see you in my court, or anywhere near my wife again Prince of Bastards, I will make sure that she pays the price.”

“You fucking bastard!” Cassian roars, body nearly limp from the bloodbane as he’s hauled off by the guards.

“Wait, let me say goodbye!” I cry running to him, but I’m yanked back by my arm so roughly it nearly pops out of its socket.

“Your obedience begins now!” Eris grits but I pay him no mind thrashing about in his grasp trying to touch my mate once last time as he disappears behind the oak doors.

“Cassian!” I scream for him, tears waterfalling over my eyes.

“y/n!” he shouts back.

But it’s too late. The doors close with a definite slam and I’m left weeping in Eris’ grasp as I hear the sounds of Cassian struggling down the hall.

Cassian’s pov:

Eris was right, the bloodbane hurt like a bitch. Even an hour later as I sat on the cold, wet floor of the Autumn Court cell, the toxin still made me feel lethargic. As if I had taken the world's strongest sleeping tonic.

The worst part of it all was that I could hear everything. The organ playing signaling that y/n was walking down the aisle and the cheers of the people as they finally said their vows. The worst and loudest of them all were the bells.

They rang with such clarity, and joy. The happy little melody could be heard from everyone in the Autumn Court, announcing that the Eris and y/n were finally wed. The ringing made me double over with grief, their sound a reminder that I was the only male in Prythian who could not protect his mate. A shame greater than being a bastard, and one I would carry with me until the end of my days.

Metal on metal screeched from somewhere in the dungeon as a light poured in. The jingling of keys and stomping of boots stopped at the door to my cell and I didn’t even bother to look up. Nothing mattered anymore anyways.

“Come on ‘Prince of Bastards’, time for you to go back to your own court,” the guard grumbled, like hauling me home was a huge inconvenience to him.

I rose to my feet and stepped languidly out of the door. The restraints on my wrists and wings were removed, the skin on my wrists rubbed raw from the blue stone shackles. I was led up the stairs to where the wards ended and was immediately winnowed to the border of the Autumn and Winter Court. The cold blizzards of winter whipping around us and chilling my wings.

“Prince Eris has asked me to remind you that you are now banished from this court. He also says that should you choose to seek out his wife once more you know what the consequences will be.” the guard relayed.

Before I could even think about punching the asshole square in his jaw he disappeared into thin air, no doubt going back to his post in the basement of the palace.

I was left with nothing but the sound of my own thoughts, and the feelings of my own guilt as I flew home towards the House of Wind where I knew Azriel was waiting. The flight was the longest one I had ever been on, as normally I took this route with y/n in my arms.

I had never been so happy to touch down on solid ground once more. Azriel tentatively walked out onto the balcony, two glasses of whiskey in hand. His shadows told him that something was very wrong.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, an alarm ringing in his voice.

The lump in my throat returns as I remember how it all went down. “The bond snapped for her, and she changed her mind. Eris found us, said he had set the whole thing up. I was stabbed with a bloodbane dagger,” I say, lifting my arm to assess the blood leaking from my side. “He told her that if she didn’t marry him he would gut me and Rhys.”

The next words teeter on my lips as I feel my eyes brimming with tears. It felt like pieces of me were being ripped out as I finally confessed to my failure.

“I couldn’t save her,” I choked out, voice cracking halfway through.

The words being uttered into the world was enough to have my knees crashing to the ground. The impact radiating through my body to the open wound on my side that still hadn’t healed. I was sure that Azriel had said something as I heard the glasses of whiskey clatter to the ground. But the roaring in my ears was so loud, so unbearable, that the only thing that assured me he was still there was the arm he slung around my back as he knelt next to me.

y/n’s pov:

The wedding was uneventful and to be honest the only part of it I remembered was when the priestess said, “If there is anyone present who can show just cause why these two may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

The silence that had fallen upon the crowd was so deafening I nearly shuddered. I was stupid to hope that he would come charging in like some fairytale I had read as a child. The smug look on Eris' face as the priestess continued with the nuptials made my blood go cold.

The reception was even worse. I had spent the entire time sipping wine with a bland expression on my face. It seemed as though Eris’ new favorite word was ‘wife’ considering he found a way to use it in every sentence. While most would think it a term of endearment I knew it was just to show his ownership.

“Prince Eris, congratulations on stealing ‘The Jewel’ from us all,” a voice said, cutting across the sea of chatter. I looked up from my lap to find the High Lord of Spring, standing before our table.

“Thank you Tamlin, she is quite the prize,” Eris crooned, placing a kiss to the back of my hand.

“That she is,” Tamlin nodded, his eyes raking me from head to toe. “Almost makes me regret crossing her brother, I would’ve liked to have been in the race for her hand.”

“All in the past now,” Eris smiles, kissing the palm of my hand. “Right wife?”

“Right,” I nod to him before turning to Tamlin. “High Lord, where is the Cursebreaker tonight? I would’ve liked to make my acquaintance.” I ask secretly hoping that my brother might catch a glimpse of his mate tonight.

“Feyre is,” he averts his gaze from mine as if trying to decide what to say. “She is safe at home. Busily planning for the wedding.”

“The wedding?” I inquired further, wondering if Rhys knew.

“Yes we are to be wed soon,” Tamlin beamed with pride. “I’m sure we will see you both present?”

“Of course Tamlin, of course,” Eris assured the High Lord of Spring.

Surely if Feyre was getting married to Tamlin my brother knew. I hoped I would get the chance to tell him. The last thing our court, well I suppose his court now, needed was another separation of mates.

The rest of the night passed on quite slowly. At one point I was able to feel the bond between Cassian and I. It was faint, but it was there, and I almost swore that I felt him tug on it at one point. It wasn’t until people started making their excuses to go home that Eris finally said the words I had been dreading.

“Shall we go to bed, wife?” he mused his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

“After I say goodbye to my brother,” I nod standing up to find Rhys, wherever he was.

“You’ll see your brother soon enough, my pet. For now let us retire to our chambers,” he growled, grasping my arm and winnowing away to what I assumed was his room.

He watched intently from behind me as I took in my surroundings.

The bed was large, draped in furs and crisp white sheets. Wood paneling surrounded the four walls, giving the place an ornate look. The fireplace was a glow, casting a warm light upon the room. If it had been anyone else’s room it would’ve been cozy, maybe even romantic.

The air filled with tension as I waited for Eris to do something, or say something, as I refused to turn and meet his gaze. The only sound heard was the crackling of the fire.

“I’ve waited for this moment for quite a long time,” Eris mused from where I knew he was leaning against the door.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear throughout our courtship,” I say straight, unable to meet his predatory stare.

“How should I have acted when you are so tempting? So innocent, so pure, and now so completely mine,” he purred and I could hear his feet shuffle as he pushed off the wall. “And now that you’ve promised me your submission? Well,” he chuckled. “I’m going to have a great deal of fun with you.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I knew what was coming and I knew he wouldn’t be gentle and loving like Cassian. I knew that once again my hands were tied.

“Tell me you belong to me,” Eris uttered, taking a step closer to where I stood rigid.

I sucked down the lump in my throat, “I belong to you,” I whispered.

“Tell me you want me to touch you,” he went on, taking another step forward, his presence looming.

“I-I want you to touch me,” I repeated back, a tear slipping down my cheek.

Eris hummed in approval behind me. He took one, two more steps until I felt his warmth at my back. Finger tips danced up and down the backs of my arms causing my breath to lurch in fear. His breath was hot on my neck as his presence sucked out every bit of air from the room.

“Tell me you love me,” he purred.

My heart stopped cold. There were many things I would have to do or say to please Eris in the millennium that I would be tied to him. But these three words? He would never hear them from my lips. Maybe towards our children, but never to him.

“You know it wouldn't be true,” I whisper, feeling the tension radiating from his body.

His hands grip my hips like a brand, ripping my body around until I am face to face with his seething eyes.

“Then I will make it fucking true!” he growls hauling my mouth to his.

Eris had kissed me a thousand times before, not one of those times did I ever enjoy the experience. But this time? This had to be the worst. All of it felt so wrong. Knowing I had a mate. Knowing he was somewhere in this world right now. It made me sick. It was rough, all teeth and tongues. He didn’t want to kiss me, he wanted to devour me.

“Say it!” Eris demanded, breaking apart our so-called kiss.

“I will love your hounds and your mother, I may love your brothers and one day our children, but I will never love you, Eris Vanserra,” I seethed, unable to take much more.

I expected him to growl, or curse or hit me. I expected a thorough lashing for what I had said, but he didn’t even so much as flinch. What scared me more? His mouth curled up in a smirk.

“You forget that you are also a Vanserra now and speaking of heirs, I think it’s time I put one in you right now,” he mused and my stomach bottomed out. “What do you say ‘Jewel of Prythian’ think I can get you knocked up on the first try?” he smiled, backing me to his bed.

There were no words for the terror I felt. No handbook to prepare me for what came next. All I could do was shut down every emotion I had and do my best to become a ghost. A shell of myself.

No matter how hard I tried, it didn’t subdue the pain.

Azriel’s pov:

I thought that getting Cass drunk might help distract him from the feelings floating down the bond tonight, but boy was I fucking wrong.

I had seen my brother lose soldiers and whole infantries. Had seen him lose his first love, the valkyrie, Tanwyn. I was there the day Rhys and y/n went under the mountain and we thought we lost them for good.

None of that compared to the screams of agony that emanated from the male before me.

“He’s fucking hurting her!” Cassian bemoaned, gripping the nearly empty bottle of whiskey.

It didn’t take much to figure out that he could feel everything y/n was feeling through the bond. And at this late hour? It wasn’t hard to guess what Eris was doing to her, and Cassian had to feel every moment of it down the bond.

“Shh calm down Cass you have to try and block her out,” I pleaded with him, gripping his hand in mine.

His eyes were glassed over, his hair tangled from him nearly ripping it out at the roots. He had been like this for well over an hour now, and I almost wished the whiskey would do its job and make him fall asleep simply so he would be unconscious.

“I can’t Az I’ve tried,” he yells at me, nearly slumping to the side from where he sat on the floor leaning against the wall.

Earlier Rhys had spoken into my mind and asked if everything was alright. I had lied of course, telling him everything was fine, not wanting to insert myself in my brother and the princess’ business. Now I wished I had told him to come if only for him to break into Cass’ head and make him sleep. Watching him feel everything his mate was feeling while she was being… well there weren’t words for it.

“Breathe Cass, breathe,” I soothed, trying to get him to catch his breath long enough to breathe in and out fully.

“I-I can’t,” he cried. “My mate.”

His voice resonated with hopelessness and brokenness, reminiscent of the tragedies depicted in literature. This situation felt nothing short of hellish. For centuries, I longed for a mate—a bond that every fae yearned for. But witnessing how it tormented Rhysand, and observing its impact on Cassian, made me question if I truly desired a mate. In my 500 years of life, I had never seen a male stripped down to his core as profoundly as this.

y/n’s pov:

The next morning I woke up late in the day, the atrocities of last night lasting well into the early hours of the morning. It took me a moment to get my bearings. I wasn’t in the House of Wind, I was in Eris’ room. It wasn’t Cassian’s arms around me in a possessive grasp, it was Eris’.

I slowed my heartrate down enough to assess the room around me. Behind me, Eris was fast asleep, which meant I had a few moments to collect myself before he woke. I looked around the room for a second space and found a door ajar that appeared to lead to a bathroom. I saw my opportunity and took it, carefully wiggling out of Eris’ grasp.

My body ached all over, especially between my legs, but I pushed through until I stood from the bed. I tiptoed over to the bathroom, shutting the door as quietly as possible. Thankfully there were two robes hung on the door. The one for Eris made up of thick cotton, and the one for me made of a cream colored silk.

I reached for the silk robe and slipped it over my bare body, noting every large bruise and handprint that littered my skin. A problem for a later time, I told myself.

I must’ve spent fifteen minutes in the bathroom collecting myself. Constantly repeating my new found mantra.

I will not cry.

I spent so long taking deep breaths that I thought I was prepared for whatever came next. But the second I opened the door and saw Eris standing, staring down at the white sheets of the bed expectantly I knew I was sorely mistaken.

“You didn’t bleed,” Eris stated, tossing the bedsheets aside, stalking towards me.

“What do you mean?” I replied feigning innocence like I didn’t know what he meant.

My heart began to beat out of my chest as Eris stalked closer and closer to me. How could I have been so stupid? To overlook the one thing that meant the most to him in this entire facade.

“Virgins are supposed to bleed the first time they are taken by a male, yet you didn’t,” he growled, stepping into my bubble as my back hit the wall. Never in my life had I felt so small. “Which means you weren’t pure when you married me, or when you came to my bed.”

Every nerve in my body froze over as I watched him put together the pieces. There was no telling what happened next, and the only thing I could do was beg for mercy from whatever plans Eris had for a soiled female.

“Eris I-”

“Did you let that Illyrian bastard deflower you?” he gritted out, a rough hand came to grip my throat, slamming my head against the wall.

Tears pricked my eyes. Even if I had wanted to answer, the hand on my neck wouldn’t allow me. I could only shake in terror and anticipation of what would become of me.

“You useless, pathetic fucking whore.” he gritted, hand squeezing tighter with every insult. “Our marriage is now null and void by the traditions of my court, which means you no longer have the protection of being called my wife.”

His hand releases my throat and I have mere seconds to suck down a breath before a harsh slap falls across my cheek, knocking the air from my lungs once again. The next thing I know I’m kneeling on the floor, clutching my face. Eris reaches out a hand to yank me up by my hair.

“Let me show you what we do to ran through sluts in my court,” Eris spits in my face.

His hand doesn’t relinquish its grip from my hair. Instead it begins to drag me out of the room and down the hall. My scalp is burning from the tug on my hair. He takes a back corridor reserved for servants and my bare knees bump, slice and break on the rough stone stairs leading down to wherever he’s taking me.

My hands try to find purchase on the walls around me so that I can ground myself and fight back but it’s impossible.

“ERIS PLEASE!” I scream, but my pleas fall on deaf ears.

We reach a basement room that drops in temperature and he finally releases me. I try to catch my breath as I watch him scribble something on a piece of paper, picking up a hammer and nail. I instantly go to cower in a corner as he walks towards me. The autumn prince pulls me out of my fetal position by my ankles pinning me to the ground beneath his weight.

“In case I did get you pregnant on the first try,” he seethes before I feel a sharp pain to my lower abdomen.

I don’t look down, I can’t look down. Afraid of what I might see there when I do. My eyes roll to the back of my head as Eris grasps my arm and a cloud of darkness washes over us.

When the shadow withdraws my bare skin is whipped and flayed by blistering cold winds. The ground beneath me is soft, but ice cold. I open my eyes long enough to see white as far as the eye can see.

The Winter Court.

“And just in case you get any ideas about utilizing that so-called mating bond,” Eris speaks again before another sharp sting plunges into my side.

White hot pain spreads from the intrusion and spreads like acid moving through my veins. I feel like the blood beneath my skin is on fire, and I almost wish it was in order to combat the blizzard around me. Only one thing could disable me like this, bloodbane. The very same used on Cassian.

“You’ve brought this upon yourself, ‘Jewel of Prythian’. I hope that bastard general was worth your life and your court. Because when Hybern comes to call it won’t be Autumn Court armies that come to your aid.” Eris says, the disgust in his voice evident.

I can’t speak, can’t even think about anything but the agony I feel. The throb from my lower abdomen and from my side. The bite of the wind and snow on my bare skin. I can barely register the cloud of darkness as Eris winnows himself away, leaving me with nothing but a silk robe for warmth.

I reached down with a cold hand to rip the dagger from my side. I hoped if I could stop the bloodbane from spreading that I might be able to use the bond to call Cassian. The second I discard the dagger blood stains the white snow surrounding me, and I realize my mistake. My hand grasps at the open wound, attempting to apply pressure. As I sat there, bleeding and freezing to death I thought of one thing.

It was all for nothing.

All the pain, all the suffering. Hurting Cassian, hurting myself. It had all been for nothing. I was dying and alone, fingers and toes already losing feeling and I still had no army for my people. Cassian nowhere in sight to save my body and my soul. And I would die here knowing that it was all for nothing.

Because time was of the essence, and no one was coming.

Part 10

Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 , @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @mybestfriendmademe, @anxious-study, @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams , @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5

Been having some trouble with tagging so if you get the notif twice I'm so sorry

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always

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mangekyuou · 3 months

Note

Hi. If you're comfortable with writing this ( if not, please feel free to ignore, no pressure on you, I really really appreciate your hardwork & I love your writing thank you so much for all of this amazing fanfics you keep bringing!! 💗💗💗💗 ), may i request some angst where Zoro & gn!reader gets into a heated argument with each other which leads to reader wanting to break up with him?

★ WHAT ONCE WAS! roronoa zoro ★

── pairing. zoro x gn!reader.

── summary. change was something you feared. but it had happened before your very eyes as you watched your long-term boyfriend train to take on unknown dangers out on the sea. you can’t even recognize him anymore.

── cw(s). angst. gn!reader. no pronouns used. shitty summary. reader says something kinda mean. zoro being kind of a jerk. takes place pre-timeskip before zoro leaves the shimotsuki village. mentions of kuina.

── wc. 1.2k.

── notepad. i actually been so long since i’ve written something angsty that just stayed angsty. it hurt my soul just enough. so thank you so much for this !! i know the rq says that the reader wants to break up, but this one is kind of a mutual break up

things just kind of happen, don’t they? everything feels fine one moment, but the next moment not so much. people change all the time, even when you don’t want them to. maybe, you were afraid of change. maybe, you were just afraid of him changing.

he didn’t hold you anymore. when the sun had fallen to rest, and the moon had taken its place to shine silvery blue in the cool night sky. not once had his arms draped over your body like they used to. he hadn’t even faced you, as he drifted into the world of dreams. most nights, he did not even come to bed.

instead of lying beside you until sunrise, he found himself striking a dummy a hundred times with the same attacks to perfect them. instead of breathing in your cozy scent, he had pushed his mortal body way beyond its limits.

he didn’t kiss you like he did before, full of passion and love. his strong hands cradled your face as he kissed like every time would be the last one. instead, he had settled for quick pecks to the side of your temple, as he muttered “love you” against your warm skin. hardly even a moment later, he would be out the door. he didn’t even give you a chance to say it back. he never even said ‘i love you’ anymore.

maybe it was a minor thing to gripe about for some people, for it to be those special three words instead of the two. but it meant a lot to you, and he knew that. or at least you thought your boyfriend of several years would have known that.

you made up excuses, anything to keep you from believing that the man you loved more than anything was changing before your very eyes more and more every day. you found yourself thinking questions you never wanted to think about.

does he care anymore? was he no longer attracted to you? did he even love you anymore? had he ever even loved you?

it filled you with so much dread, to the point it was overwhelming. it was getting harder and harder to keep how you were feeling behind the closed door of your, well once shared bedroom.

you couldn’t keep going on like this. going on like everything was fine when it wasn’t. pretending to be fine, as you watched your neglectful boyfriend exert himself to near injury in the name of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman.

now he was talking about leaving the village to challenge dracule mihawk to a duel? you loved him dearly, but you heard one too many stories about “hawk-eyes”, none of them were good. allowing your boyfriend to even set foot off this island was sending him to an early grave.

you believed in him, sure. one day he would be the greatest swordsman. but for once, you just wanted him to be realistic and realize that that day will not be tomorrow, it won’t be next week, it won’t be next month.

why doesn’t he understand you feel this way because you care about him?

“zoro…” you say gently, standing at the door frame of the dojo.

the swordsman was still swinging away at the wooden dummy that was a few swings away from falling apart. of course, he didn’t hear you the first time. he never did.

“zoro” your voice was much louder this time, finally grabbing his attention. “huh?” was all he even said before he went back to swinging at the dummy. he didn’t even spare you a glance.

“can we talk, please? it’s important.”

“just say what you’re going to say, ( y/n )”

“WILL YOU PUT DOWN THOSE LOUSY SWORDS AND LOOK AT ME!”

you didn’t mean that. you knew just how much his swords meant to him, especially the one dawning a pure white hilt. you knew what his dream meant to him. you were just angry. frustrated. tired.

you watched as he sheathed the swords, and did as you said. his expression was stone cold. it was like looking at a whole new man. never had he ever looked at you like that. you knew what you said hurt his feelings.

“if you’re still trying to talk me out of leaving, forget it. if i don’t do it now then…”

“THEN WHAT?! you’ve never been out of the east blue! and you’ll be a DEAD MAN if you challenge a shichibukai!” you couldn’t stop yourself from yelling. “you don’t know what lies ahead of you in the other seas, zoro! i’m just trying to help you!”

“i never ASKED for your help!” he retorted, clenching his fist around the hilt of one of his swords. he continued, “i never WANTED your help! i never NEEDED your help!”

a silence filled the room, as your face dropped and your heart sank into the dark void of your body. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even form the words you wanted to. you weren’t even exactly sure what those words were.

“if i don’t do this now…then i may never have a chance to do it again. i have to do this, I thought you understood that.” his voice was full of disappointment, as he turned his back to you, as if you had meant nothing, as if this has all meant NOTHING.

you balled your fists, “i do understand that! but i also understand that there are battles that we are not prepared for just yet! kuina meant a lot to you, zoro. her dream has become yours, and you want nothing more than to achieve that for her. but you are not ready. letting you go would be suicide! kuina would not want that!”

“YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED! YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW HER!” he snapped at you.

“YOU’RE RIGHT! I DIDN’T! BUT I KNEW SHE WOULDN’T WANT HER FRIEND DEAD! AND I’M NOT GOING TO SIT BACK AND LET THAT HAPPEN TO YOU!”

“then don’t. leave.”

“…what?”

just like that, you felt everything crash around you. leave? what did he mean 'leave'? leave and go where? how could you leave when this was all you knew? HE was all you knew. you were each other’s firsts. how….could you just leave?

how could he throw everything away? everything you were willing to stay and fix.

“leave! you don’t want to be here then go. nobody’s stopping you.”

he made it clear.

it couldn’t be any clearer than that.

with shaking hands, you slowly turned on your heel, putting one foot in front of the other, walking out of the dojo, walking away from your first love, walking away from the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

you had hoped, he would have stopped you. that he would drop his swords and chase after you, pull you into a hug, and apologize for what he said. you had hoped you just start over, like none of this ever happened. that he would see that you meant well, that you just wanted to keep him safe, that he would stay here with you.

but that didn’t happen. tears flooded your cheeks, as you continued to walk home without him.

it was over, wasn’t it?

#☆ — MY LOVE MINE ALL MINE.#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro oneshots #zoro scenarios #zoro imagines #zoro headcanons #zoro angst #one piece oneshots #one piece scenarios #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #one piece angst

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readychilledwine · 8 months

Text

Requiem for a Dream

Part 3: Change

(Two months into Rhysand's Return home)

Rhysand and Rhiannon are still walking around their sexual tension, but our high lord has finally decided enough is enough. After a month of lingering touching, glances, and true re-courtship, he wants his mate in his bed.

Warnings - Smut, NSFW, D/S dynamics (daddy/Princess and sex slave/master) ownership kink, praise kink, oral (F Recv), not edited. Minors- DNI

A/N - This is kind of that last step before the peak of Rhys, in reality, reclaiming his sexual being, which is a journey a lot of SA survivors go through. While everyone's journey is different and models different patterns, I felt Rhysand's NEEDED to show aspects of regaining domination and control, and I do not feel that was truly shown or touched on by SJM.

Rhiannon's character, at this point, may not be for everyone. She is very submissive due to her own trauma and back story I crafted for her. Let me know your thoughts, feelings, if you want more, have gripes. Also, the song in mind is "Change (In the House of Flies)" by Deftones. The theme to one of my absolute favorite movie sex scenes in history.

Author ps - as an active member of the kink scene, I see festish written on here, but it never comes with this warning and when we do not know who is reading our stories, I feel like it needs to be said.

Please DO NOT ENGAGE IN BDSM with a partner you do not fully trust. BDSM, dom/sub dynamics, all varieties, and sex in general need to be based on trust and the care for each other's emotional well-being. You all deserve the best, give yourselves the ability to have that 💜 love yourself enough to WANT and NEED to have that.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Part One Part Two Part Four

Rhys had convinced Rhiannon to join him for dinner alone in the River House. They ate in silence, hands held over the table. They were dressed casually. She was wearing a dark plum sweater that went down to her mid thigh, tight black leggings and fuzzy socks. Rhysand had on a cream sweater with casual pants.

He had asked the twins to make her favorite meal. Elk steaks, potatoes with gravy, greens, and homemade bread and butter. He had personally flown into Velaris, arriving at a sweet shop his mate absolutely loves, asking if they had her favorite cupcakes available that day. They had made them for him, without hesitation as he did some other shopping for her. She was eyeing them with a sparkle he had not seen from her since his arrival home. But after all, what female could possibly resist the imported vanilla and sea salt caramel this bakery used.

"When were you going to call on the bargain with Feyre? I'm worried about her powers eating her alive." Rhys looked at Rhiannon. "He won't train her. She needs to be with someone who will."

Rhys nodded. "I assume the realm gave you that information?" She nodded. "I would like to ensure my own home and court are on a stable foundation before bringing her here."

Rhiannon was no fool. She knew immediately what he meant. She gently put her silverware down, turning to look at her husband. "I did not realize there were issues in the foundation. Is something wrong in the court?"

Rhysand sighed. He wouldn't be able to woo her now. This conversation was happening, and it was happening much sooner than he anticipated for the night. "Not necessarily with the court itself. I worry more about my family and Inner Circle." Rhys paused to turn to her, "My wife hasn't kissed me since I arrived home, despite many chances and opportunities to do so. I keep attempting to recourt her with countless gifts, praise, and flirtation, but I just cannot seem to bring her into my bed." Rhys paused to watch her look down. "You are my most trusted advisor when it comes to Illyrian Females, Rhiannon. Do you have any suggestions on how I can get my wife to be close to me again?"

Rhiannon put her silverware down, clearing her throat before responding. "Is she possibly afraid that reciprocating your affections may hurt you or the progress you've made?"

Rhysand smirked, finally getting the answers he needed. "I would not know," he laced their fingers together. "Aside from asking me how my day was, doing her duties to fill me in on her assignments, and small conversations, she has all but closed me out. I know she loves me. I just worry that maybe I am not doing enough to show her I would like to begin the process of us going back to who we are."

Rhiannon felt tears lining her eyes. "I know you still have nightmares about her, Rhys. I just feel like sleeping with you, touching you, or even kissing you is retraumatizing you. I love you too much to risk hurting you emotionally and mentally."

He nodded, taking a sip of his wine before beginning to speak to her. "I appreciate how much you care. I have always loved your empathy and kindness, darling. I want to sleep with you at my side, though. I want to hold you. To kiss you. To fuck you until I cannot tell where you stop and I begin." He took another deep drink. "I am ready to try, my nightingale. I need to try. Madja believes I am ready. I believe I am ready. Please, Rhiannon, come to bed with me tonight."

She nodded. "And we will stop if it is too much?" He sent her confirmation down the bond. "Mor made me wear something pretty under this for you. Just in case." His ears perked up at that. He took her hand, dinner long forgotten, and pulled her to their large bedroom.

Rhysand took the chair that sat across from their bed, leaning forward on his elbows as Rhiannon stood close to him. "Take your clothing off." Her scent hit him immediately. The sweet scent of her arousal mixed with the normal soft smell of moonflowers and honey. He watched, eyes fixated on every inch of slowly exposed skin as her sweater was removed and set on the desk near them.

She went to remove her leggings next after he gave her a nod, exposing her muscled thighs to him first. He groaned loudly at the sight of her mating mark. The delicate pattern of swirls and stars that ran the expanse of her leg, mapping out the night sky at the exact time they accepted the bond.

Mor had picked a wonderful little set for her to wear. A black haltered bra made of strictly lace and mesh that left nothing to his imagination, a matching high waist thong, and stockings that stopped at her midthigh. He patted his lap, leaning back as she crawled to straddle him.

They studied each other for a few seconds. His fingers ghosting the new muscles she had earned while training with Cassian, then her pretty throat, then her breasts and stomach, before reaching her panty line. "Mate, please." The bond was banging like a war drum in both of their ribcages, right where it connected their hearts. "Rhysand, please."

He pulled her to him, locking their lips for the first time in 50 years and moaning at the taste of her. It was exactly how he remembered, yet so different. Her lips were soft on his, tasting faintly of the sweet red wine she had been drinking. The bond began to almost hum, begging for more.

She fully submitted to him, allowing him to control the pace and pressure. One of his arms quickly wrapped around her hourglass waist while the other went up her back, allowing his hand to tangle into her hair.

It was a familiar position to them. One they had been caught in countless times by Azriel, by Cassian, by his mother. He almost smiled, remembering the first time Azriel had walked in on Rhysand pounding into his sister while she moaned and cried for him. Every single punch of the absolute beating her older brother had given him that day was worth it. Every single punch Azriel still gave him was worth it.

Their first time seemed so distant now as he pulled away from her, lifting her and carrying her to their marriage bed, kissing her throat, and whispered praise into her soft skin. He laid her gently down and sat on his knees between her legs.

Her dark hair was spread out in every direction, her pupils slightly dilated as she began to enter the part of her mind and behavior only he had the pleasure of seeing. Her lips were swollen, bringing out the soft blush they naturally had even more. He ran his thumb down them, smiling as she immediately opened her mouth and began to suck the digit, looking at him with her wide eyes.

"Such a beautiful little treat, aren't you, darling?" He pulled his thumb from her lips, "You're dripping already. Daddy wants to have his favorite dessert. Is that okay with his princess?" She whined, her back arching slightly off the bed. "Words, my darling. Daddy asked you a question."

She looked up at him, wide eyed. "Please Daddy. Need you. I'll be a good girl." Her submission had him ripping his own shirt off and removing his pants with speed he hardly knew he still had in him as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees to be closer to her dripping cunt.

"I wanted to take my time with you, worship you and this body of yours, but I fear I just do not have the patience for all of that today." He misted the now offensive lace from her body, leaving only the thigh highs and growled at the sight before him. "Such a pretty cunt, Rhiannon. Who does she belong to?"

Rhiannon was already breathing heavily. "You. I am yours."

He growled, throwing her legs over his shoulder. "Good girl." Without warning Rhys began his assault. Licking long stripes from her leaking hole the the apex of her thighs. He drank from her like a man receiving water after being trapped in a desert for too long. He was starving for her. Aching for her. He groaned as her hands found his hair and gently tugged to bring him closer to her clit.

He had missed this. He had missed waking her up with his head between her legs. He had missed the feeling of her tight entrance twitching on his tongue. He had missed the sweet taste of her. He pushed his tongue into her, nose nudging that sweet bundle of nerves, "Fuck daddy, yes!" Her back arched of the bed, and he instantly locked her down with his forearm, growling at her in warning.

Keep still like a good little toy, or I will leave you dripping and aching. He continued his feast, knowing fully well he couldn't, and wouldn't, do that to her. He wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking lightly, and moaning as it earned him a harsher tug on his hair.

His free hand moved up, taking some of her wetness on one finger before slowly pushing it into her. She was tight. So tight. His pretty girl only had her own fingers to play with, and he realized he'd need to slowly stretch her back open all over again for him to slip inside of her like the little sleeve he had made her to be again.

He smirked at the thought of retraining her to be constantly wet and ready to take him at a moment's notice. He curled the one finger, chuckling against her as she swore and prayed to the Gods. Just Rhys or daddy is fine, darling. There are no Gods here to save you from me.

"Rhys!" She gasped loudly as he slowly put another finger inside of her, moving them in and out and curling them into the soft spongy spot that he knew made her see stars. "Fuck please don't stop." He doubled his efforts, moving his fingers faster, sucking and licking at her clit a little harder as she began to flutter around him. That tight coil in her stomach was winding itself up faster and faster with each well planned lick, suck, and curl.

Is my little princess going to cum? A loud whimper of his name came as her breathing picked up. Does my princess have permission to cum?

"Daddy please. I need it. I need to cum. Please." Rhys removed his mouth from her nerves, keeping himself within licking distance.

"Who makes you feel this good? Who is the only male who gets to make you feel like this, huh?" He went back to licking circles and figure 8s on her as his fingers began to move even faster.

The room was filled with her cries, her pleads, and the sound of her wetness. Rhys released his hold on her hips, only for tendrils of darkness to take his forearms place to begin the quick mission of stroking his cock. I asked you a fucking question, Rhiannon. Scream. Scream for all of Velaris who is making you feel this good.

And she did. Her walls locked and began squeezing his fingers as she screamed his name over and over. The tight coil in her stomach releasing and causing more wetness to flood her mate. He moaned against her core, refusing to slow down until he also found his peak. That refusal instantly sent Rhiannon back over the edge with little effort. One graze of his teeth gently against her clit had her crying out of him again, and then him roaring as he came seconds later.

His head fell into her thigh, peppering small kisses there as his hips rutted, and they rode out their bliss together. She tugged the bond, silently begging him to come hold her, and he obeyed. He laid on his back, pulling her into his side, and began playing with her hair. He placed a soft kiss on her lips before trapping her in a more heated one.

One month, he said to her mentally. In one more month, I'm fucking you on every surface of this house. She smiled against his chest, nodding.

"Is that a promise, my love?" She held her pinky to him, making him chuckle and smile as he enloped it into his larger one and pulled her into another deep kiss. A feeling of the familiar zip of a promise being made hit them both. New tattoos, three small stars, adorned their left ring fingers, right above their wedding rings.

✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️

Requiem for a Dream Tag List:

@horneybeach1

@we-were-beautiful

@cat-or-kitten

@twsssmlmaa

@dream-alittlebiggerdarling

@tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys fic #rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar

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vastill · 1 year

Text

Don't you miss it?

Melissa Schemmenti/fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, NSFW, oral, pet names, swear words, strap-on use, let me know if there are more

words: 2000+

My requests are open!!

English is not my first language!

A/N: hii im back! i really struggled with writing this one but i think im done now. tbh i don't know if i like it or if i don't:( but i hope you will enjoy and let me know what you think!💚

As you began dating Melissa, you quickly learned that this was her first same-sex relationship. In fact, before meeting you, she had only had a couple of one-night stands with women, but nothing more serious.

Both you and Melissa had many insecurities and uncertainties at the beginning. You wondered if you were doing things right. Despite all of this, you both made an effort to communicate with each other. You learned to talk things out, always finding some sort of solution.

But there was one that you were scared to bring up.

You saw how Melissa looked at all those guys in movies or magazines. Her eyes always lingered a little more on them than the others. And that made you wonder if you are good for her.

Maybe you weren't enough.

Was Melissa missing being with men?

You tried to shake that thought off of your mind but it always came back to you.

And on one particular evening after catching her ogling the man on the screen you felt the urge to ask her about it.

“Don’t you miss it?”

“What?” She looked at you confused.

“You know…” You shot a glance at the TV looking directly at the man and then at her.

“You mean dick?”

“Melissa! You don’t need to be this vulgar!” You softly punched her in the arm.

“Yeah said the one with a mouth of a saint. And no. Why would I? You gave me more orgasms than any dick I had.” She said smirking and you blushed.

“But you had only been with guys before me, I don’t know maybe it's just my insecurities but I don’t know.” You sighed.

“Did you think I don’t enjoy sex with you because you don’t have a dick?” You lowered your gaze to your lap. Your reaction telling Melissa everything. “Oh hon, why didn’t you talk to me earlier about this?”

“It’s stupid. Forget it.”

“Baby, you give me exactly what I need. Everything that I need. And if you are this worried, there are ways that we can make it happen.” She said lowly grinning at you.

“I’m not agreeing to a threesome, Schemmenti!” You quickly said. “Especially with a man.” Your face twists in disgust.

“That’s not what I was saying.” She said laughing lightly at your face. “You know there are some toys that can help you with this insecurity, you know?”

“I-what? Oh! OH!” Realization hit you like a truck, your face instantly turning red similar to the color of Melissa’s hair.

“Yep, that’s what I thought. So maybe we or I can do some online shopping, and we will see about that? What do you think?” Melissa asked.

“So you miss it?” You said grinning.

“Oh, fuck you! You are the worst! I’m trying to help you and that’s what I get.” She said getting up from the couch.

You quickly grabbed her arm and tugged her on your lap. “Okay, okay. You can buy it. But admit you miss it!” She looked at you kissing you slowly.

“I don’t.” You send her a glare. “Really I don’t but frankly I think you will look so good with a strap.” She said her eyes darkening as she imagined what it would look like.

You blushed deeply at her words, feeling a mix of embarrassment and arousal. “Don't go horny on me now, we don't have it yet. Go and buy it.” You said and Melissa's face lit up with excitement and she leaned in to kiss you again.

“I knew you would want it.” She whispered teasingly.

“Schemmenti.” You said with a warning, griping her tights harsher.

“Okay, okay. I'm going!” She laughed climbing off your lap and going to her laptop. “You will love it!” You only shook your head with amusement watching her excitement.

And the week passed in a blink of an eye.

Since the package came you two didn’t have time and strength to do anything about it. Work completely tired you out. But today was Friday you had nothing planned.

The evening was peaceful as you relaxed on the couch with Melissa lying on top of you. The TV was on in the background, but the two of you were lost in each other's company. Her head was nestled on your chest while you mindlessly played with her hair.

Melissa started planting light kisses on your collarbone and neck moving to straddle your lap. Your hands instantly went to grab her waist under her shirt scratching softly her sides. She moved her face kissing you. The kiss at first was innocent and light quickly turned into a heated make out. Hands wandering under shirts and exploring all the parts that you had access to.

Melissa slowly ended the kiss and lowered herself to your ear. “Wanna shake the sheets?” She said, a smirk evident in her tone.

“You couldn't word that any sexier, Schemmenti?” You laughed.

“What are you more of a funny business kind of gal?” She wiggled her brows at you.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh my God, stop that. I don’t want to know how many more of this you have.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, grinning. “Plenty, but maybe on another occasion.” She climbed off your lap and grabbed you by your wrist, urging you to stand. She slowly neared your face, kissing your jaw and earlobe. “Now we have more interesting things to do.” She turned around and walked to the bedroom swaying her hips. You couldn’t take your eyes away from this view. She is so beautiful.

“Take a picture, it will last longer.” She said amused, light blush covered her chest and face from the way you were looking at her.

“You are so gorgeous, Melissa. I’m in awe every time I look at you.” You said coming to sit on the bed.

Melissa smiled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “You always know how to make me feel special,” she said, pulling you down for a kiss. You straddled her lap and kissed her passionately, your hands roaming freely over each other's bodies, only stopping to take off each other clothes.

Your lips were everywhere making a path of kisses to her breasts. Your hands moved to her back to unclasp her bra, and you took one nipple into your mouth, sucking and flicking it with your tongue. Melissa’s back arched as she moaned your name. You switched to the other breast, giving it the same attention, and she ran her fingers through your hair, urging you on. After a while, you moved down her body, leaving a trail of kisses to her stomach and further down.

You took off her panties and tossed them aside. Melissa spreads her legs, giving you full access to her. You leaned in and kissed her clit, and she moaned loudly, her hands gripping the sheets. You started to gently lick her, moving your tongue in circles and flicking it back and forth. Her moans grew louder, and you knew she was close. You increased the pressure and speed of your tongue, and she came with a loud scream, her body shaking with pleasure.

After Melissa came down from her high, she pulled you up and kissed you deeply. She could taste herself on her lips, which only made her want you more. You both were panting, and you could feel the heat emanating from her body. She pushed you back onto the bed and climbed on top of you, straddling your waist.

“So maybe we can try it? I mean we don’t have to but you have no idea how many times after our talk I had been thinking about you fucking me.” She whispered in your ear. “It makes me so wet baby, you make me so fucking wet. Do you feel it?” She started sliding herself on top of your stomach. You could feel her juices spreading all over you.

“Melissa, fuck.” That’s all you could say as you watched her entranced by the pleasure she was feeling. You imagined her riding your strap, what a view it would be. You grabbed her by her hips and stopped her movements.

“What the hell are you doing? I was so close.” She looked at you displeased.

“Giving you the best night of your life.” You said changing your position, you stood up and grabbed the package. You took out a red strap-on and put it on you. Melissa sure knew what to buy.

“How did you know how to put it on that quickly? You sure you never used one?” Melissa asked smirk evident in her tone. And you were glad you stood with your back to her because your face must be in the color of her hair. “I watched videos.” You said embarrassed. Melissa laughed lightly. “Always prepared. I like it.”

You felt stupid with something dangling between your legs. It was weird.

“Sweetheart?” You heard behind your ear, you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear Melissa approaching. “Talk to me.”

“I feel stupid. It's there and uh it's weird. I look stupid.” You said not looking at her as she came and stood in front of you.

“Well, it’s not stupid you will get used to it.” She said grabbing your chin and making you look at her. “And I think you look good, so good. I picked the best color, red is your color darling.” Her eyes scanned you up and down, when she looked you in the eyes her pupils dilated, and desire twinkled in them. “Come to bed darling, make me see stars again.”

You followed her to bed still feeling a little self-conscious about the strap-on. But as soon as Melissa started kissing you it all went away.

“Are you sure?” You asked her as her kisses traveled to your throat.

“Yes, please.” She said breathlessly, her hips rutting against the air.

You positioned yourself between her legs, taking the strap in your hand you slide its head through Melissas’ slick folds. She moaned in anticipation when you nudged her clit. Slowly, you pushed the strap-on inside her, and she gasped at the intrusion. You gave her time to get used to the new sensation and stretch.

After a few moments, Melissa opened her eyes looking directly at you. “You can move sweetheart.” You started moving in and out of her, the strap-on hitting all the right spots.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from her face.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open, and her face twisted in pleasure. You felt a wave of heat rush through your body as she moaned and dug her nails into your back. With each thrust, she moaned louder, her body writhing beneath you.

Her eyes were closed, and her back was arched, her body moving in rhythm with yours. You knew she was getting closer to her orgasm. The way her moans turned into screams and breathless panting.

“Baby, open your eyes. I want to see you all when you come.” She opened her eyes, and her green orbs looked directly at yours. “That’s my good girl, yes, look at me.”

You increased the speed as your hand reached down to play with her clit. Melissa’s body started to shake from the pleasure she was experiencing. She came with a loud scream of your name. You slowed your motions to let her ride out her orgasm.

She whined as you slowly took the strap out of her and laid next to her cuddling.

After a few moments of silence, Melissa turned to you and grinned. “Wow. That was amazing. You are incredible.” She said still breathless. “Did you also watch videos on how to use it?” She asked nudging you.

“No, that's pure talent.” You smiled back at her, feeling proud of yourself. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” You said, snuggling closer to her.

“Who said I’m done enjoying myself?” She said as she straddled your lap capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #lisa ann walter x reader #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #wlw post #wlw fiction #vastill

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frenchtantan · 6 months

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Okay, after that mini-date between q!Tina and q!Bagi, I have some gripes to settle regarding how some people have been reacting.

First and foremost, cc!Tina. Miss ma’am, I know you’ll probably never read this, but let me tell you, if I hear you one more time saying you’re not good at roleplay I will SCREAM! You are SO passionate and in the moment, so immersed, and you immediately level yourself with how into it the people you’re interacting with are. You’re not afraid to make your character show vulnerability, fear and sadness. This is PEAK roleplaying skills, and it’s so enjoyable to watch! Please never feel invalidated just because you don’t have a 60 pages Word document about your character. You’re SO talented, and your monologues from the mini-date are incredibly poignant.

Secondly, I wanna touch upon the notion that q!Tina is easily swayed. This has some truth to it, and it did show with q!Bagi most of all. Many times she changed an answer about a question or a topic because q!Bagi had a different one. However, those were all about menial things. “But what about her opinion about the Federation?” I hear you ask. Well, it’s true that the people she’s been hanging out the most with (q!Foolish, q!Jaiden and q!Ironmouse) are either pro or neutral towards the Federation. However, because they are still keeping her at arm’s length, they don’t go into too much details as to the why and how. q!Foolish and q!Jaiden especially have a mutual trust and share secrets that they’d never tell q!Tina, at least not now. As such, while at first simmering in a relatively Federation-friendly climate, it wasn’t such a big focus point, especially since she was so new. Like she said, she lived in blissful ignorance, and the people surrounding her didn’t really do anything to change that.

Then comes q!Bagi. Slowly but surely, they both develop a crush on each other, and as such, q!Tina wants to impress. She grasps at a small excuse to flip her view of the Federation as a way to do that, but again, in that moment, it’s not a big deal. And because they are very shy with each other and clumsily flirt, the seriousness of the topic is still somewhat behind a curtain, even though q!Bagi has been knee deep into the dark side of the island. The terrible truths and secrets, the violence, torture, betrayals, she’s seen it all already, but when around q!Tina, she puts on a brave face and acts all sweet, because it’s clear she likes her a lot! However, she does sometimes let a smidge of truth slip out, which q!Tina unconsciously hears and stores in her memory for safekeeping without thinking too much of it.

Finally comes the turning point. q!Bagi discovers q!Cellbit is her long lost brother, and he reacts badly to it, leaving her profoundly sad. q!Tina is present enough to start to see how complex her crush’s life is, through multiple days. After a setback, q!Bagi decides to invite q!Tina on the mini-date and fully opens up to her. Despite building up to it, this wave of information comes crashing down. q!Tina is hit with everything. But most importantly, she is confronted with how blissful her ignorance was, and she is SCARED, leading to her AMAZING monologue about it. However, this fully awakens her critical thinking, and she actually starts to reflect on the situation! Seriously, I don’t know how people didn’t see that! Multiple times through the mini-date, she not only expresses her honest opinion, but even does so when it CHALLENGES q!Bagi’s. She defends q!Foolish, q!Jaiden and q!Forever, she tells her that one of the Cucuruchos is nice, she questions the idea of leaving the island, the Federation’s desire to harm, and so on. At that moment, she’s not trying to impress anymore, she wants to understand, and suggesting otherwise is highly disingenuous, reductive even.

By the end, there isn’t even a real agreement reached on any of those questions! However, what becomes clear is that q!Bagi did something nobody has truly done yet for q!Tina: she opened her heart, and decided to be completely honest. For a while now, q!Tina had become jaded about who to trust, noticing how much the others were keeping secrets, even her close friends. It upset her, and made her act irrational. Yet q!Bagi, without any second thought, chose to trust her. Not to manipulate her, not to test her, but because she truly wanted q!Tina to know who she was. She did that out of respect, to give her all the keys to make the most informed decision about their relationship. Through some more heart-to-heart, they realize they both feel the same way about the others keeping secrets, and now they know they have each-other, at least for the time being.

This leads me to the third misconception: q!Foolish. Doozers, I love you guys. The past months, you’ve fought tooth and nail to make sure q!Foolish wasn’t mischaracterized by the fandom, and I fully support you for it. However, there is something you need to realize: the other cubitos are NOT the fandom. They shouldn’t know, CANNOT know his POV, or q!Jaiden’s. As a result, the hard truth is that due to q!Foolish’s chaotic nature and seemingly wavering loyalty, NOBODY apart from q!Jaiden actually trusts him with regards to Federation matters. He’s often filibusting, joking around, and deviating when it comes to these matters, he has shown to be ready to arrest people. He CHOOSES to act like that, and since others don’t know his endgame, you cannot in good conscience blame any of them when he does not appear trustworthy. Even q!BBH with whom q!Foolish has somewhat of an unspoken bond, doesn’t tell him everything. I know you all want q!Bagi to have a conversation with him to understand him, but it’s going to take way more than that for any islander (again, other than q!Jaiden) to see him the way you do, much less q!Bagi.

This includes q!Tina by the way. As she said during the date, he’s been keeping her at arm’s length, so she’s started doing the same. He may have good reasons to do so but she can’t know them. Now, as she also mentioned, this has become kind of a mutual understanding of what they’re willing to share, and while it remains so, their friendship is almost certainly not endangered. That being said, if it WERE to come to blows, you cannot fault her if she ends up siding with q!Bagi, who’s shown willingness to cross bridges he hasn’t. Again, this is the worst case scenario. She’s still defending him so it’s suuuuuper unlikely to happen.

So yeah, that’s about it! TL;DR

q!Tina might sometimes be easily swayed, but keep in mind that when things get serious, she does have a good head on her shoulders and is capable of critical thinking.

While it’s important for the fandom to understand q!Foolish, it’s equally crucial to realize he does not appear trustworthy to almost all islanders because they don’t have the information the viewers have.

#qsmp #qsmp tina #qsmp foolish #qsmp jaiden #qsmp bagi #teaduo #shyduo #gatina #qsmp federation #tinakitten

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bbobpul · 8 months

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break my heart again 2 — njm

PAIRING. na jaemin x reader SUMMARY.how's jaemin gonna give back for all of y/n's efforts now that he finally can? it's been years—just how much has everything changed? GENRE. angst, fluff, she fell first 🤭 W/C. 3.5k NOTE. hello, part two is here! so sorry i couldn't make a taglist. i didn't have time to make one. nevertheless, i hope this fic make its way back to you. love u all and thankies sm !!!! also, my requests are open !!!

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→ my other works !!!!!! part one here!!

i find it hard to picture myself ever being as dedicated to something or someone again, just like how i dedicated my entire college life to na jaemin.

lately, i've been feeling like i forgot what it's like to actually have a dream. back then, na jaemin was my dream, he was my driving force. i would force myself to wake up so early in the morning just so i could see him (or his car) enter the gates of the university. i would go to school even though i am sick and feel a lot better when i get home because i saw na jaemin. but now two years after graduating, i still haven't found a decent job that i actually enjoy.

it's a common experience that many people go through, and i suppose i shouldn't complain about it. maybe i need to put in more effort and push myself harder. part of me wonders if having na jaemin back in my life would rekindle that same sense of dedication that i once had. but as i say these thoughts out loud, they sound absurd, even to myself. why would i wish for my first love to return just so i could find a decent job? why would i long for na jaemin to come back merely to feel that spark in my life again? it's puzzling why i'm even dwelling on thoughts of him and wondering if he holds the key to my happiness and success.

oh, to dream.

oh, for that old dedication to still burn within you.

if only you hadn't acted so dumb that day. could life have taken a different path? are you even happy now? if you hadn't let fear hold you back back then, if you'd actually been brave enough to listen and follow through, would you be happier today?

but no matter how much you keep bothering yourself with that memory, if people come up to you and ask if you feel bad about everything that happened that day, you'd say no. you don't feel bad at all.

deciding to let him go was one of the best things you did. he seemed happy when you left, and after that, you never heard anything about him. he's like a touchy subject in your group of friends, which can be tough sometimes since you share friends. but does it really matter now? him not being in your life probably means he's happier and more peaceful, right?

are you feeling peaceful? is being stuck in a 9-5 job that hardly brought you joy a happy situation? scratch that. did being in that job make you happy? clearly not, as you've just mustered the bravery to quit. and in doing so, you've never felt more joyful.

did you really make the right decision?

just as you were pondering your own question, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. you grabbed it and saw that the caller was renjun, your incredibly patient best friend.

"y/n," he said, his tone becoming unusually serious. "what's up?" you asked. "do you need money?" "yeah?" "here's the deal: our college is putting together a documentary film, and they've chosen your department. but guess what? your old classmates are bombarding me with messages because it looks like you're ignoring them all. frankly, i can't believe you even answered my call," he griped. "wait, hold on. what film? and why would they pick me? are they searching for someone with a post-college life so sad that it belongs in a documentary?" "well, you were practically a legend back in college, so… and apparently, the director specifically wants you, which leads to… well, another issue…" "what's the problem now?" "it's going to be directed by jaemin."

and just like that, you ended the call. but a few seconds later, renjun's call came in again.

"i'm not going to do it." "you stubborn brat." "why him?" "i have no idea!" "why is he even directing? wasn't he studying architecture or something?" "i don't know, y/n. i haven't heard a single thing about him since your graduation." "what do you mean?" "that's not important now, y/n. you're in need of money, right? seize the opportunity. do it for the cash." “so will you do it or will you do it?” “for the cash.”

...

"y/n, you've moved on, haven't you? what's done is done. i'm pretty sure jaemin has forgotten all about it. this chance is coming your way, so just accept it." "i guess i will."

you're drawn in by the idea of making some extra money and the possibility of catching the eye of potential agents or employers. right now, you're at a crossroads, thinking about how this documentary could be a stepping stone to more job opportunities down the line. this situation is different from what usually drives you – this time, it's not about others, it's about focusing on your own goals and aspirations.

you're deliberately avoiding dwelling on your past. just as renjun mentioned, you've moved beyond it. what's done is done. right now, your focus is firmly on the present and the potential that lies ahead in the future.

what's in the past is behind us, including whatever existed between jaemin and you.

from renjun

tomorrow at lunchtime, they'll be going over the schedules and discussing what to film. if you want, you can chat with the director now. his number is 0825 813 2000.

in response, you simply replied with a "okay."

the night before the lunch meeting, a jumble of emotions has you in its grip. the idea of reconnecting with jaemin, who used to be your best friend and is now someone distant, fills you with a sense of awkwardness. you tell yourself that this is about working together and the chance to grow professionally.

after taking a deep breath, you decide to shoot jaemin a text. your fingers hesitate as you type, and the uncertainty you're feeling seems to seep into your message. you finally press send, and your text reads, "hey, it's y/n. heard we're meeting tomorrow for the documentary. just wanted to check in before that."

in almost no time, your phone buzzes with a response: "hey y/n, good to hear from you. yeah, looking forward to our meeting. let's catch up and chat about the project."

the conversation is polite, but beneath the surface, there's an unspoken layer of complexity. you can feel the hesitation in your exchange, a silent recognition of the shared history that's now a distant memory. as you talk about the meeting and the documentary, the easy flow you once had is noticeably absent.

as the texts go back and forth, a sense of tension seems to hang in the air. it's as though the years of friendship you once had are casting a shadow over your conversation. the effortless connection you once shared now requires effort, and both of you can sense the change.

as the conversation wraps up with a simple "see you tomorrow," you're left with a mix of excitement and anxiety. the idea of seeing jaemin again, especially in a professional context, stirs up a range of emotions. this situation is a stark reminder of just how much things have changed – and maybe how some things can't go back to the way they were.

you believed the conversation had concluded, only for your phone to ring once more, bearing yet another message from him. as you read the words on the screen, "i missed you, y/n," a rush of emotions floods over you.

"what's going on with him?" you mutter to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. your gaze remains fixed on the message for a moment, your attention drawn to the three blinking dots in the corner – a sign that he's in the process of typing a response. several more seconds tick by, the dots eventually vanishing, and in response, you shut your phone off. you make an attempt to settle into bed and get some rest, but truth be told, it's hard to claim you managed to sleep soundly that night. an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions keeps your mind restless.

the day of lunch lunch finally arrived. you sat across from jaemin, his words forming a distant hum as your thoughts remained clouded and preoccupied. the lingering impact of his recent message kept you in a state of unease, making it difficult to fully engage in the conversation he was leading.

then, something inside you snapped, and you found yourself abruptly interrupting him with a question that had been gnawing at you, "why me?"

he looked at you, his gaze steady, and his response was quick, "why not you?"

your frustration simmered as his words hit you. he was choosing to be cryptic, and it was only adding to your confusion. pushing past your exasperation, you pressed on, "listen, i know we didn't part on the best terms, but why come back now and act like everything's fine? i mean, sure, it's better than hostility, but why choose me? i'm the one who's no longer part of your life."

his expression remained neutral, void of any emotions as he replied, "that's not true."

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to elaborate. "what's not true?"

"that you have nothing to do with my life, y/n," he stated firmly.

the weight of his words settled heavily between you two, the gravity of the situation growing more apparent. the lunch table had transformed into an arena for confronting unresolved issues.

you scoffed, unable to hold back your disbelief. "jaemin, i made one mistake, and now you're trying to imply that my actions shaped your entire life?"

his eyes held yours, unwavering. "y/n, it's not just about that one mistake. everything that followed, everything that shaped who i am today… it's all connected to you."

your mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was suggesting. the complexities of your shared history seemed to crash over you, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and a tangled web of unspoken feelings.

the weight of his words left you momentarily speechless, and in an attempt to shift away from the intensity, you sought to change the subject. "where are the other producers? why is it just you here?"

"y/n…" he began, his tone suggesting he wanted to continue the previous conversation.

however, you opted to sidestep the discussion entirely. you pretended as if the profound exchange hadn't just occurred. "i notice you're taking on the role of a director now. quite the career shift, huh?" you inquired, masking your internal turmoil with a casual demeanor. you acted as if there hadn't been a two-year gap in your connection, as though things between you were perfectly ordinary.

he met your gaze, a faint hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "i pursued another dream when i felt i'd lost the chance for my first one."

"your first dream… not architecture, then?" you prodded, curious about the direction he had taken.

he shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him, leaving you puzzled yet again. "no, not architecture. well, i suppose that just wasn't meant for me back then, but maybe it is now."

the cryptic nature of his response only added to the layers of confusion and intrigue that surrounded him. there was something about the way he spoke that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface, emotions and experiences that he hadn't fully revealed. you found yourself torn between the desire to push for answers and the instinct to allow him his privacy. the lunch meeting had transformed into a stage for untangling not just the complexities of the documentary but also the intricate web of emotions and history between you and jaemin.

leaving the restaurant, a whirlwind of unanswered questions dances in your mind. yet, for now, you choose to tuck those thoughts away, focusing instead on the looming filming date just a few days away – next saturday.

in the span of time between that lunch and the upcoming shoot, jaemin proves consistent in his attempts to bridge the gap between you two. he regularly reaches out, updating you about his day and proposing get-togethers, which you consistently decline.

the days pass, marked by a series of messages and missed opportunities. despite the undeniable tension, there's an undeniable persistence on jaemin's part, a determined effort to reconnect and reestablish a sense of familiarity. however, your apprehensions and the memories of your past dynamics hold you back, keeping you from embracing his overtures.

as the countdown to the filming day continues, you find yourself in a delicate dance – balancing the unresolved history between you and the prospects of the future. the lines between your personal and professional lives are blurred, and the documentary project becomes a backdrop against which the intricacies of your relationship with jaemin play out.

you find yourself constantly pondering what his intentions could be. his actions leave you wondering, and you can't help but question what he's aiming for. in your perspective, you're merely a negative aspect of his life – a streak of misfortune. you would have expected him to have learned from the past, but his determination remains unshakeable.

as you contemplate these thoughts, your phone lights up once more, bearing yet another message from him. his name on the screen triggers a whirlwind of emotions – a mixture of uncertainty, annoyance, and a hint of curiosity. opening the message, you brace yourself for whatever he might convey this time. the consistency in his attempts at communication only serves to deepen the intricate web of emotions you hold for him, leaving you caught between your shared history and the unpredictability of the present.

"the offer's still there, y/n. :)" "jaemin, let's be real. just because i'm on board with your documentary idea doesn't mean we're suddenly best buds again. a lot has changed." "i want to reconnect, though." "actually, scratch that. i want to get to know you all over again." "jaemin, i appreciate the effort, but let's keep things professional, okay?" “i’m sorry, y/n. goodnight.”

after your straightforward message, his responses ceased. a silence settled in, stretching on until saturday – the day you were set to see him again. the anticipation and uncertainty had been building, and now the moment was finally at hand.

you stepped into the studio and immediately noticed that you and jaemin were the only ones present. your confusion must have been evident on your face, prompting him to address the situation promptly.

"um, the team thought having fewer people in the room would create a more personal atmosphere," he began, his voice carrying a hint of unease. "and, well, they decided to keep me here, you know, being the director and all, and also because we have a history…"

his words trailed off, and there was a subtle vulnerability in his tone. it was as if he was acknowledging the intricacies of your past connection, while simultaneously recognizing the complexities it introduced into your current dynamic. the studio, usually a place of creativity and collaboration, had transformed into a space laden with the weight of your shared history.

"it's okay," you responded, your words carrying a touch of reassurance. as your reply registered, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips – a detail you couldn't help but notice. after all, it was that very smile that had ignited four years of your life, a smile that held memories and emotions you had both shared.

"um, i'll just ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that didn't escape your notice. this new facet of his demeanor felt unfamiliar to you, a departure from the confident jaemin you had known.

you found yourself disliking this uneasiness, and a thought occurred to you – maybe it was time to rekindle something within him. as he began asking you questions, you decided to respond in a way that would evoke a certain familiarity between you two. it was a subtle attempt to bridge the gap, to draw out the person you once knew.

you had believed that his silence was what you wanted. you had convinced yourself that distancing yourself from him would protect you from the past mistakes. but now, facing the reality of the situation, you realized that perhaps a certain selfishness was ingrained within you. maybe, just maybe, you yearned to erase the distance, to defy your own rationalizations.

in this moment, you found yourself yearning to rekindle what had been lost, to bring back a connection that once meant so much. the conflicting emotions within you painted a complex picture of your desires – a battle between self-preservation and the longing for something more.

however, as you locked eyes with him and saw the lack of any discernible emotion in his gaze, a haunting wave of fear resurfaced within you. in that moment, it was as if time rewound, taking you back to the day of your graduation when your heart and spirit had felt shattered. the memory of that painful experience rushed back, accompanied by the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you.

if you were to truly confront your own feelings, you'd admit that what you witnessed that night had left you questioning your own worth. the events had stirred up doubts about whether you had ever been deserving of taking risks for, whether you had ever been someone worth fighting for.

"hey, good morning, y/n."

"morning, director."

"how's today treating you?"

"pretty good, thanks."

"hmm, and what's life been like after college?"

"…"

"take your time."

"at first, i felt okay. my friends were all getting closer to their dreams, and i was genuinely happy for them. especially…"

"especially who?"

"especially the person i left behind."

"…"

"i was content being happy for someone else. then another year went by, and i wasn't feeling so great anymore."

"do you really think they're happy?"

"hmm?"

"the person you left behind."

"yeah. and my other friends seem happy too. they've got jobs they love, they're with people they care about, and i only had… renjun *laughs* … but sometimes, i can't help but feel like i'm the one who got left behind, you know? even though i was the one who walked away."

"let's talk about your person."

"oh *laughs* he's not my person."

pausing for a moment, you glanced at jaemin behind the camera. the question lingered in your mind: what was he trying to do? his actions and intentions remained a puzzle.

his expression grew serious, his gaze fixed intently on you. it was as if he had something to convey, something he was holding back.

"the last time i actually saw him was in an instagram post. he was with some girl. it happened on my graduation day. i waited the whole day, hoping he'd appear in the midst of the crowd. when he didn't, i held onto the possibility of seeing him by the gates. but that didn't happen either. my last hope was maybe he'd send me a single message, but by the end of the day, nothing came. then i went on instagram and saw a photo – a warning, i guess. a warning that i should just stop hoping. that… happened a few weeks later, i think. or maybe it was just a few days after our argument, the one where he told me he couldn't love… yeah."

you met his gaze and once again, his face was serious. his eyes were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. a few moments passed, and he let out a shaky breath. screw it, you thought, it's out there now and i don't care anymore.

your silent exchange was interrupted as he shifted the camera away. confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him move. he turned back to you, his expression still serious, and then he grabbed a chair from the nearby table. he sat down with his back facing you.

the room felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving you to question his intentions and actions. it was as if he was peeling away layers, searching for something beneath the surface.

"did you know that…" he began, his voice breaking the silence. "she was his sister?"

"i never told you about her, that's on me," he admitted with a chuckle. "that was her last day, y/n. so i decided to spend the entire day with her. i'm sorry."

you were taken aback. "i'm sorry–"

"it's okay, y/n."

"i know i left you with so many questions that night, but let me tell you… every effort you made, every cookie you baked, i cherished all of it. i loved you. i'm sorry if my actions made you doubt yourself."

another pause filled the air.

"i left when you left."

"you were my dream. architecture wasn't really my passion, you know? i was struggling a lot, but luckily, you were there with me. i decided to chase after what i truly loved when you left, because i realized if i wanted you back in my life, it should be when i'm at my best, right? i wasn't lying when i said i couldn't love. i didn't want to love you when i was broken. i wanted to be the best version of myself for you. i thought that if i wanted you to be with the best person, then that should be me. so i became that person, a director, and then i planned all of this." his eyes finally met yours.

"i was always looking at you."

tears welled up in your eyes, and he seemed to notice. he took a step towards you and enveloped you in his arms.

"i'm sorry for not holding onto you back then, baby. but i promise, i won't let go of you now," he whispered.

"i'm sorry for leaving, jaemin," you sobbed.

"shh, you did what you thought was right."

"do you want to have lunch with me now?" he asked.

a mixture of emotions flooded your heart, and with a nod, you replied, "yes, jaemin."

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yukimiyaz · 1 year

Text

Aki doesn’t necessarily crave change.

In all honesty, he quite likes things being the way that they are. Having a—somewhat, most of the time—normal routine he can follow. Clock in and clock out and pick up takeout from that one restaurant on the corner on his way home. Make sure Power and Denji don’t try to steal the ramen shop’s cat as they pass by. It’s relatively nice, he thinks. Having a day to day.

But now he’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror and he just.. wonders.

“Power knocked Denji through the bedroom wall again. So we gotta fix it, again,” you sigh as you come in and lean your head on his shoulder. “And Meowy’s stuck on the fridge and won’t come down, so I might need your help with that.”

Aki hums, nods. He figures he can stop by the hardware store to buy more drywall tomorrow after work. And he doesn’t mind to come rescue the cat off the top of the fridge. But he doesn’t move, just tips his head at himself in the mirror.

He's been told many times that it wouldn’t kill him to loosen up, but he doesn’t think he’s all that stoic. Yes, he agrees he is blunt, but he is still soft for those he cares about, no? Is that not enough? Shouldn’t it be?

“Do you think I'm too uptight?”

The question comes out low, like he didn’t mean to even say it out loud, and you catch his gaze in the mirror. No, he decides, it is not enough that he thinks that way. He needs to make sure someone else does, too.

He needs to make sure you do.

“That depends, are we talking on bill day, or?” You’re joking with him, and normally he likes that. but now he just shifts his eyes off you in the mirror back to his own face. You frown, tug at his shirt sleeve until he looks down at you fully. “No. I think you’re curt and honest and take things seriously, but not in a bad way. You’re not like that deep down because you care. Why are you even asking that?”

He blinks at you. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t particularly want to answer that question because now as he thinks about the reasoning behind what’s got him thinking this way it just seems silly. And what if you laugh at him, heaven forbid?

But he finds it hard to not be honest with you. It's like you’ve signed a contract with an honesty devil, because you somehow always make him sing like a bird regardless of whether he wants to or not. And right now is no different.

“A colleague at work said that I was more uptight than my topknot.” He cuts his eyes from you, because it sounds even more minute coming out of his mouth. “So, I just thought..”

“What?” And your hands are on him, now. running up his chest and smoothing over his shoulders in the way you know soothes him after long and tiring days. He sighs into your touch, remembers his walls do not have to be up here, and lets you in.

“I think I'd like to cut my hair.”

He takes the next few moments to study you, gauge your reaction. there’s the tiniest twitch of your eyebrow, smallest intake of breath, little tilt of your lips. but nothing too expressive, too.. judgmental.

It's times like this that he remembers why he fell in love with you. Because even if he is not entirely conventional, you treat him as if he is anyways.

“Okay,” you say, light and easy and make a show of faux rolling your eyes. “Even though you’ve never gotten more than a trim in the numerous years we’ve been together. I guess it’s time for a change.”

And he doesn’t even need to say anything else before you’re leaning over to retrieve the hair scissors and clippers from the bottom drawer of the kitchen cabinet. Then you’re straightening back up and tapping your finger to your chin.

“Hmm, let’s see. What’re we thinking?” He’s about to answer you when you reach forward and grab his jaw, theatrically tipping his head this way and that as you hum. “A mohawk? buzz cut? Shaved heads are very in style now, you know. I think you could rock it.”

Aki narrows his eyes at that, loosely grabs the wrist you have held up to his face.

“Very funny,” he gripes, but there’s no real venom in it because the smile on your face dilutes everything that comes out of his mouth. “I don't think I signed up for sarcasm with my haircut.”

You put your free hand on his shoulder and push him down onto the toilet seat before he can stop you. And he gulps just a bit, feels his stomach twist like it does when he sees you cooking breakfast in his shirt. You pat his cheek and he can’t stop himself from trying to chase after the warmth of your palm as you pull your hand away and start to reach for a comb.

“No, but you signed up for it when you got me, so.” You turn back to him and slide the comb through his hair as you step between his legs. “I'd say that it should’ve been a given.”

And that’s true and it is, but sometimes he just likes to pick. That's something that may feed into his apparently uptight reputation or break it down, he doesn’t know, but he never picks quite as much with anyone but you. You bring out the best of him, he’d argue. The parts of him that he thinks are far too soft and fragile for him to walk out into the world without shielding in armor. You ease him, and he likes that. You make him think change doesn’t have to be so bad.

“But seriously,” you hum, sliding your fingers through his hair, twisting the ends lazily. “What are you wanting?”

As he looks up at you from his spot on the toilet seat, he finds his mind slightly drifting from the matter at hand. You look nice today. You’re wearing his cologne, he detects. There’s a flake of something in your hair that he suspects to be from Power and Denji breaking the wall. You seem to handle everything so effortlessly, even though he knows that isn’t quite true. And he realizes something.

“Surprise me,” Aki says, and feels his lips twitch at the way your face lights up.

You make quick work of it. Like you’ve thought about this before. Mapped out a route of change for him prior to him even asking. He wonders what else you’ve thought about changing in life.

Maybe he should bring up changing the paint on your bedroom walls. Maybe he should ask if you’d like a different brand of spices at the store. Maybe he should inquire about your thoughts on getting another cat. Maybe he should see what you think of replacing the worn out sofa with something better.

He sits on the toilet seat and watches you focus. Smiles at the way you bite your lip in concentration and tilting and turning his head when you tell him to. His hands have politely made their way to the backs of your thighs, mindlessly playing with the hem of your shorts as you ask him about his day and tell him of your own. His cheeks heat up when you catch his eye and smile at him, and his fingers tighten on your legs when you lean down to give him a peck every now and then.

And with each wisp of hair that falls from the scissors and each buzz of the clippers by his ear he finds himself leaning into change easier and easier until you’re taking a step back and admiring what you’ve stripped from him.

“You’re scaring me,” Aki chuckles under his breath as he takes in the look you’re giving him. You’re chewing the inside of your cheek, holding out a hand to him as you bounce on the balls of your feet.

He takes it, as he always does and always will, and lets you drag him back in front of the mirror and turn him until he’s looking at himself. And the breath leaves him all at once.

You've clipped the sides, faded it out and shortened his hair all around and given him layers of some sort. He cuts his eyes to your excited face in the mirror for a split second and wonders if you secretly went to some barber school he isn’t aware of. It’s just so.. nice. It fits him; suits him. His face looks like him, and he knows that should be obvious but it’s different than before. It’s…

“What do you think?” you ask, and you’re half wrapped around his arm now as you blink up at him. “Do you like it? You said surprise you but that’s so nerve wracking so I really just tried to do something that would be more manageable and—“

Aki turns to kiss you so fast that if you didn’t have a grip on his arm already then you might’ve just fallen backwards onto the bathroom tile.

“It's perfect. I love it,” he breathes as he pulls back, looks back into the mirror for a split second before pressing another peck to your lips, “I love you. Thank you.”

And you’re beaming, now. Painting that smug look on your face that you get when you’re cocky as you wrap your arms around his neck. He loves it, adores it. He kisses you one more time before you turn your face from him with a giggle.

“Psh, knew you would. I'm perfect at everything you know. I should charge you, actually. Send you a bill.”

He’s about to jibe back with you—maybe ask if he could repay the favor by making dessert and doing the dishes tonight—but there’s a yell of your name from a few rooms over that sounds suspiciously like Denji’s cry for help when power is fighting with him that drags you away. You peck his lips and grin at him before you scurry your way out of the bathroom and to whatever sort of commotion is going on now.

Aki turns himself back to the bathroom mirror, studies the man staring back at him. He slides a hand back through his freshly cut hair, lets the new buzz tickle his fingertips. His own touch isn’t as delicate as yours, doesn’t welcome the change as gracefully as you do. He turns from the mirror and scuffs his feet across the tile to follow you to the debacle that you’ve been called to split up. And as he watches you soothe an overly dramatic Denji and calm down a riled up power, he thinks.

No, Aki doesn’t suppose that he necessarily craves change, but he finds that he doesn’t quite mind it. And as he stares at the hand you have patting Denji’s head while you flash him an exasperated grin, some of his loose hairs stuck to your shirt, he figures there’s one more change he’s more than ready to make.

Maybe he should start picking out a ring.

#another old work. lol #yukimiyaz writing #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x reader

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szalnyshko · 1 month

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(•Д•), Dunmeshi is over taking me!! [spoilers ahead!]

So, I’ve already finished the manga and I’m now waiting for the new episode but during the gap I’ve been consuming fandom content, as per use. Now, the character that I’ve been consuming the most fandom content is Laios cause he’s so jdjdjsjs, and this idea has been fluttering round my head because I’ve only seen THREE actual posts/works about this. Two being fics and one being a tumblr post.

The specific idea is a sibling swap, Falin and Laios, and I’m suffering from lack of content from it!! Only two fics and one tumblr post [ТдТ] One of the fics is Laios and making his desire to be to swap with Falin, and what he thinks will happen. The other is Falin going through the dungeon to save Laios and it’s specific the episode that’s coming out this Thursday, so chapter 27/28 in manga I think.

Like this concept really gets me going cause it changed the whole dynamic of how things would play out. Laios being there meant they met Senshi because Laios was interested in eating monsters. Falin, although she does have an interest, would not have that strong of an interest in eating monsters. I also feel she may not realise it’s hunger that caused them to fail because she was focused on protecting her brother and the party, literally letting herself get eaten to save her brother. She also would not have intimate knowledge of monsters so the party may have a harder time killing monsters.

I think Marcille and Chilchuck would still be in the party. Marcille doesn’t seem to have a deep connection with Laios at the start, with her clashing with Laios and his monster eating habits. Plus the prior encounter where she wanted to kill him for taking Falin away from magic school. This bond deepens between them as they go down the dungeon and she obviously cares for the rest of the party, feeling betrayed that Namari and Shuro [I keep forget your actual name] left. But I feel if it were Lauos to get eaten she wouldn’t be as motivated as she is with Falin [Lesbian icon!] because she doesn’t get to connect with him. This then brings into question, would she revive Laios and risk being jailed by the elves?

She probably would because it’s Falin who asked but there would be more hesitation. Especially with Chilchuck who is against it no matter what.

Talking about Chilchuck, I feel he would stay out of obligation. The same reason he stayed with Laios originally. I think his dynamic wouldn’t change that much but maybe he’d see Falin and Marcill closer to his daughters [?] or maybe he’d have a gripe cause of their relationship as we already know he doesn’t do inter party relationships.

Namari would still leave but I think Shuro would be more hesitant, his love for Falin possibly making him stay for a little bit.

Of course we have the problem with money and food but I think Falin has enough people skills to gather some things. But, because she lived with Laios for some time and heard about his monster fantasies, maybe she’d consider eating monsters. I feel people would be more likely to listen to her rather than Laios [sorry buddy] but still question it. However, Shuro did have a whole crew so maybe he’d help with that and we’d have a whole different crew dynamic.

Talking about that, I wonder how Kabru and his party would interact with Falin’s party. How’d the Namari reunion go? What would Falin’s desire be? How would the finale fight be? Would Laios have a cool chimera bod like Falin?

So many questions for my tiny brain….

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 1 year

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(The Bad Batch) Hunter x Reader: Worried

A lil something for the Hunter fangirls!! Enjoy!

Word Count: 776

Warnings: Mentions events that took place in "The Crossing", Kissy

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” The low rumble of his voice echoed softly in your ear. As his gloved hand sought yours, you released a sigh, shoulders sinking in relief as his presence soothed your nerves.

You took note of Wrecker hauling a boulder on the other side of the dimly-lit tunnel, granting you and Hunter a moment to converse in some semblance of privacy.

“Omega and Tech have been gone for a while,” you said finally. “I just hope everything’s okay.”

Hunter clasped his hand over your own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You relished the contact, leaning into his side.

“They’ll check in soon.”

His profile betrayed no underlying fear. No uncertainty. Even while Cid’s bogus mission went awry, getting worse and worse by the hour, he’d hardly looked phased. It was a wonder.

When the ship was stolen and the crew broke out into debates about who was at fault, he calmly redirected the team’s energy with the simple statement that arguing was not helping the situation.

While Wrecker grumbled and griped about how long it would take to dig your way out from the collapsed tunnel, Hunter made the argument that complaining would not make it go any faster.

He was right in both cases, and yet even you could not stave off the doubts that crept into your mind. Would you all make it out in one piece? Could you get the Marauder back? How many failed missions would it take for Cid to turn on the lot of you? And now, would Tech and Omega be alright?

His level-headed nature was almost enough to convince you there was no reason to be concerned.

Almost.

Hunter turned to face you completely, the corner of his lips turning up. “Everything will be alright.” His brown eyes searched your face, measuring your expression, hopeful that his words put you at ease.

A familiar, nagging thought crept its way back in. You felt the need to pout under his gaze, lifting a brow.

His amusement grew at your shift as you pulled away slightly. “What?”

“You don’t exactly reassure the others this much.”

Hunter leaned forward, countering your withdrawal by gently pulling you back into his space, so that you had nowhere to look but at him. You met his eyes and felt helplessly drawn in at the tenderness they held. “The others don’t quite worry like you do, sweetheart.”

Your lips parted with a reply that itched to be heard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to utter it. As much as you wanted to protest, his statement wasn’t exactly inaccurate. Besides, it was hard to argue when his lips found your neck.

“I just…don’t want you to think I can’t handle things like the rest of you,” you breathed, hands gripping broad shoulders as he trailed a series of soft kisses toward your ear.

There. You’d said it. The thing that had been weighing on you for quite some time. The reason that you’d fallen silent in the last few hours.

“Not for a second,” he murmured. “You are one of the strongest people I know. I actually think it’s…adorable how you worry for everyone.”

“Adorable?” You hadn’t expected to hear that word from him, huffing quietly. “Yeah, right.” Your breath hitched in your throat when he nuzzled against the base of your neck.

“Utterly.” His tone was heavy with sincerity.

“Well,” you exhaled slowly. “I was not aware of that.”

“You look after each member of the squad in a way we’ve never been looked after before,” he continued, lifting his head to meet your gaze once more. “Before you came along, do you think anyone worried about us?”

His question pierced you like a blade. Before you joined, the squad had been on mission after mission, taking on the riskiest of tasks for the sake of the Republic… without anyone to worry besides each other.

You buried your face in his chest, squeezing him tighter as he sighed. “Either way, it’s only a matter of time until we’re out of here and find a transport.”

“Uh yeah,” Wrecker interjected, huffing. “You guys done? We’ve still got a lot of boulders to move.”

You and Hunter separated, him rolling his eyes while you smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Wreck. You’re doing a great job.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved your comment off humorously and stepped aside so you could join him at the wall of collapsed rock. You nudged him and knelt down to start rolling the nearest one, stealing a look at Hunter.

The sergeant was at your side in a moment to help, and just like that, you were dead set on getting out.

#bad batch #the bad batch #bad batch hunter #hunter x reader #bad batch x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #hunter reader insert #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch reader insert #sergeant hunter reader insert #star wars the bad batch #bad batch fanfiction #sergeant hunter fanfiction #bad batch fanfic #hunter fanfiction #bad batch hunter fanfiction

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cineresis · 7 months

Text

Angels in America

It's amazing how fast an evening at your favorite club can be ruined by someone keeling over and frothing at the mouth. The band never quite gets back into the swing of things afterwards.

"Angel," sighed one of the men, or nearest approximants, at the table next to mine, "why is it that I can never go anywhere with you without stumbling across a body?"

"Oh, come now," said his partner, a soft, fluffy confection in caramel and cream, rising hastily to make his way toward the source of the commotion. The first gentleman, dark, lanky, and excruciatingly chic, got up to follow him. "It's hardly every time."

I stayed where I was for now, casting my gaze around the room as I went over my memory of the past twenty or thirty minutes. Too many people passing close enough to slip something into the victim's drink, too many others to watch at the same time, too many more opportunities to poison him outside my field of view. I was a detective, not God.

"Stumbling upon, once. Literally. Do you know what it's like to have to clean up after that sort of thing? It takes a personal toll."

"Hush, Crowley," chided "Angel". "People can hear you, and you know how queer they get about these things. Ooh, yes, that's strychnine, all right," he added cheerfully, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket and tipping it into his handkerchief. "Nasty stuff."

I got up. As I approached, I caught the faint, unmistakable chemical sweetness of ether fumes and gave them a wide berth, choosing instead to inspect the victim's plate and glass before turning to scan the room from this perspective.

"Now, just what might you be doing?" drawled Crowley.

I looked him over, too, while I was at it. In Crowley's case, this involved a lot of looking and not much over; he was easily more than six feet tall, even while slouching rakishly. The snake tattoo on his right temple suggested certain things about him. The dark glasses that he hadn't removed since he'd entered just suggested questions, since I highly doubted he was blind. "I'm a detective," I said, leaving the obviously at the end of that sentence to implication. "What are you doing?"

This response seemed to delight him. "So are we," Crowley answered, and grinned. "But if you want to get specific about it, I'm keeping you distracted while my friend saves this man's life. Let's see your license, then."

As I took it out, keeping at least one eye on him and his partner, Angel called out to the rubbernecking crowd around us, "I need someone here to run and call the nearest hospital, and a couple of strong men to help get this poor fellow someplace dark and quiet to rest. Best use one of the tablecloths for a stretcher," he added to the first volunteer who stepped forward.

Crowley leaned in closer to study my license. "Drake Silas Donovan," he read off. "'Silas', really?"

"What about it?"

"I've just always wondered what kind of parent would name their kid Silas."

"The kind who had a grandfather named Silas," I replied coolly, snagging my license back. "Your turn."

He obliged. Anthony J. Crowley, it read, licensed in London since 1905, the year before mine. I wondered how long he'd been at this; he looked too young for his apparent age, but then I looked too old for mine. "A. J. Crowley," I read his signature aloud. "Get asked if you're any relation every time, or just most?"

There's a certain motion a person's head makes when they roll their eyes. Crowley's was making it. "The man's an embarrassment to the side," he griped. "I made my name legitimately."

"And your friend?" It wasn't as if I couldn't put two and two together. There's a certain type of person who's got both a nose for trouble and the brains to prepare for it; if it walks, talks, and thinks like a dick, it probably is one. It was just that I wasn't in the habit of trusting people, and I'd be a real schmuck to neglect basic due diligence on the guy purportedly surrounded by bodies.

Detectives are no better or worse than any other person. They just think it's usually more interesting to solve crimes than commit them.

"Oh, he's as legitimate as it gets." Crowley turned to his companion, who was getting to his feet, brushing his clothes off fussily. Beside him, the two volunteers hoisted the unconscious victim onto a tablecloth spread across the floor, momentarily dislodging the ether-soaked cloth before Angel caught it and laid it carefully back in place over the victim's nose and mouth. "Aren't you, Aziraphale?"

Angel — "Aziraphale"? — looked up, startled. "Pardon?"

"Mr. Donovan here wants to see your detective's license," Crowley explained, enunciating his words with malice aforethought.

"Oh! Yes. Of course I always have that with me. Now just where did I..." He started patting down his pockets, stopped suddenly, and took a lovely calfskin card holder out of his coat. "Ah. Here it is."

Beaming, he passed it to Crowley, who passed it to me with the comment, "You'll find everything in order, I'm sure."

I glanced down at the card, then back up at Angel. "Am I supposed to call you A. Z. Fell or Aziraphale?" I asked, pronouncing the Z correctly as zed.

"A. Z. Fell is how 'Aziraphale' is pronounced in the King's English," said Crowley blandly, affecting a cut-glass Oxford accent on the last phrase. His partner seemed pleased by this comment, rather than annoyed.

"I'm afraid my progenitor bestowed me with a rather unwieldy given name," Fell admitted, raising fascinating questions about just how many syllables the British peerage could fit on a birth certificate when they really tried. "Aziraphale just sounds so much more euphonious, don't you think?" Crowley was right; I couldn't tell whether Fell had meant to say A. Z. Fell or the de-accented gloss. He'd lengthened the half-syllable between zed and Fell to a full vowel, but some people said zetta.

"I wouldn't know," I replied, handing the license back to Crowley, who was nearest. When Fell didn't take my bait, I added, "Lucky that you happened to have ether handy. I wouldn't like to imagine what might've happened if you'd decided to stay in tonight." I also lied when I said sorry, and when I swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but. Little white lies are the oil in the gears of civilization.

"Oh, I always carry that, too," Fell explained earnestly. "One gets into the habit after one's first run-in with strychnine, and of course ether has so many useful applica—"

"I wouldn't, angel," Crowley interrupted, sounding very amused. "Mr. Donovan thinks you're the one behind this."

"Oh," said Fell, nonplussed. "Gosh. Well, I — I suppose I can't blame him. He doesn't know me from Adam, after all, and has no reason to trust me — I did warn you about giving people funny ideas, Crowley, honestly. Of course," Fell turned to me, laying an elegant hand across his chest, "if you were to search me, you would find only a small collection of antidotes — oh, but a habitual poisoner would probably carry those, too, especially if he were the sort of voyeur with a penchant for playing the hero. I certainly wouldn't be convinced of my innocence. Yes, I can certainly understand whatever suspicion you might feel towards me, however misplaced it may be."

Crowley watched this thought process with an expression somewhere between fascination and agony. "Well, at least now he probably thinks that if you'd done it, you'd have been caught by now," he remarked, presumably because he was thinking the same thing. "You'll have to excuse my friend," Crowley added to me. "He still believes that the innocent have nothing to fear. Somehow."

"First time visiting?" I guessed.

Fell's bemusement answered my question before he did. "Pardon?"

"Never mind."

#good omens #1920s #noir #detective fiction #lgbt fiction #original fiction #(as it were; i should probably go back and tag the posts in this series more identifiably)#is this a human AU or are Crowley and Aziraphale just huge nerds? i don't know and neither does the outsider-POV narrator #i will finish this if there is public demand but otherwise This Is What You Get #(other stuff is still in the pipeline. this has just been a fuck of a year.)#i did this #my writing #a good man is hard to find (no not that one)

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