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fragileheartbeats · 7 days

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒, 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑡 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱

ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶ㅤ۫ㅤ𝅄ㅤೀ

— 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘦, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘓𝘦𝘦, 𝘏𝘢𝘭, 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘦, 𝘒𝘺𝘭𝘦, 𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘴 <3

˚꒰🌼꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬

Her skin, a canvas where perfection resides, Her hair, a cascade of silken tides. Her eyes, a mirror reflecting boundless depths, A universe of emotions, where love intercepts. Her voice, a symphony that soothes the soul, Its melody enchanting, making his spirit whole. Her laughter, a tinkling bell's sweet refrain, A melody that chases away all pain. He worships her as a deity of love, His heart surrenders, soaring like a dove. Her presence fills him with a sacred light, Guiding his path through life's murky night. With every breath he takes, her image lingers, An ethereal vision that sets his heart aflutter. Her existence a gift, beyond compare, A masterpiece of beauty, forever to share. He gazes at her with eyes filled with awe, Lost in her radiance, his soul in tow. Her smile, a beacon of hope and cheer, Dispelling darkness, casting out fear. In her embrace, he finds solace and peace, A sanctuary where his worries cease. Her touch, a gentle caress that sets him free, Healing wounds with its tender alchemy. He cherishes her laughter, prizes her tears, For in her presence, his world fills with cheers. She is his goddess, his guiding star, The love of his life, forever near and far. Through life's trials, he vows to stand by her side, His unwavering devotion, a constant guide. For in her love, he finds his greatest worth, A treasure he'll protect with all his heart's girth.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐀 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬

In his heart's embrace, a tender soul resides, A confectioner's dream, sweetened with love's tides. His eyes behold a goddess, radiant and bright, Her every smile, a beacon that banishes the night. Like chocolate's rich aroma, his love fills the air, A fragrant symphony that conquers all care. Each glance from her eyes, a sip of pure delight, Melts his being to a state of dreamy flight. Her voice, a cascade of notes that dance in his ear, A sweet serenade that fills him with cheer. Her laughter echoes, as if bells ring with glee, A celestial chorus, etching her image in his memory. Her skin is as smooth as velvet, so soft to the touch, As if crafted from petals, untouched and unsmirched. Her hair cascades like a stream of molten gold, Ensnaring his heart in its shimmering hold. Her lips, a confection of sweetness, tempt his desire, A tantalizing treat that sets his soul afire. In her embrace, he finds solace and relief, His sugary paradise, banishing all grief. He worships the ground she treads upon with grace, Her every step a dance, a mesmerizing chase. Her smile, a beacon that guides him through the darkest night, Illuminating his path with its radiant light. Her mind is a treasure trove, wisdom flows unbound, Her words like honey, healing every wound. Her intellect captivates, her spirit soars, A paragon of beauty, unmatched in all time's doors. With every beat of his heart, his love grows stronger still, A tapestry of emotions, vibrant and true to fill. He's her devoted knight, ready to conquer all, His love for her, an unquenchable, eternal call. He envisions their future, a sugary delight, Filled with laughter, adventures, and love's gentle might. Together, they'll create memories as sweet as chocolate dreams, A lifetime of indulgence, fulfilling all their whims. Oh, sweet chocolatier, forever under her spell, His heart's desire, a goddess who captivates his soul so well. In her presence, he finds joy, contentment, and grace, An eternal love story, written on time's sweet embrace.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬

Her every movement, a symphony of grace, Her laughter, a melody that fills his space. He watches from afar, his hunger gnawing, Yearning to possess her, her essence craving. But as reverence turns to possession's lust, He succumbs to a sin, a sacrifice unjust. With each morsel he consumes, her flesh so sweet, His love becomes a horror, a ravenous retreat. He whispers words of adoration as he feasts, His teeth sinking deep, a macabre release. Her eyes, once so radiant, now glazed with dread, As he feeds on her essence, leaving her for dead. In the aftermath, a hollow ache remains, A cruel mockery of the love he feigned. He mourns the goddess he created in his mind, His sorrow a bitter echo, his heart confined. Her bones, once pristine, now a grisly reminder, Of the depravity that love can hinder. He caresses them with trembling hands, a mournful plea, Seeking a connection, a memory to decree. The world judges harshly, their voices a condemning cry, But he remains unyielding, his madness soaring high. For in his eyes, she was not just a mere flesh, But a deity he loved beyond his own death. Haunted by her absence, his spirit wilts, Each passing day, his sanity tilts. He wanders the streets, a pariah outcast, Carrying the burden of his horrific repast. In the depths of his despair, a flicker of remorse, A realization that his actions were coarse. But forgiveness eludes him, his soul forever stained, By the love he destroyed, the life he profaned.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐋 ─ ♕ . ♡𝆬

Her touch, a gentle breeze caressing, Awakening dreams, with blessings blessing. Her laughter, music to his ears, Dispelling sorrows, quenching fears. He led her through the throne room's grace, Where tapestries depicted their embrace. A queen, a goddess, his heart's desire, He'd fallen for her with burning fire. Her virtues, pure as driven snow, Her kindness warmed him, made his soul glow. He worshipped her, not as a mortal maid, But as a celestial being, unafraid. He'd bow his head to gaze into her eyes, Seeing heaven's reflection, a paradise. Her hair, a silken waterfall so fine, Cascading gently, entwined like vines. He'd whisper sonnets filled with fervent praise, Exalting her beauty, a celestial maze. Her smile, a radiant dawn's embrace, A sight that stole his breath, a timeless trace. In hallowed halls, he held her close and dear, His love for her unwavering, crystal clear. He sought her pleasure, her utmost joy, Delighting in her presence, without alloy. The courtly whispers echoed through the halls, Of a king's devotion that shattered all walls. He'd consecrate his realm to her name, His love eternal, an unquenchable flame.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ─ ⛥ . ♡𝆬

Her presence, a perfume, sweet and ethereal, A celestial melody, soft and ethereal. Her voice, a symphony, enchanting and pure, A tender whisper that his every desire lures. Her eyes, a universe of dreams unfurled, Where constellations dance and stardust's whirled. Their gaze, a spell that binds him forevermore, A love profound that knows no bounds nor shore. Her touch, a brush of paradise on his skin, As if a seraph's touch had come to kin. It sparks a flame within, a fire that burns bright, An ardent devotion, day and darkest night. He marvels at her wisdom, deep and true, Her spirit, soaring like an eagle's view. Her grace and poise, a celestial art, A masterpiece of nature, a treasure from the start. He sees not flaws, but only radiant light, A goddess descended from celestial heights. His heart, her temple, where he offers his all, A sanctuary of devotion, an eternal thrall. In her embrace, he finds solace and rest, A sanctuary where his weary soul is blessed. Her laughter echoes through his world like a chime, Dispelling shadows, restoring hope sublime. With every glance, his love grows stronger yet, A tapestry woven with threads of pure delight. He sings her praises, a poet's soul unfurled, For she is his goddess, the jewel of his world.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 ─ ♬ . ♡𝆬

In his eyes, she was a goddess fair, Her presence graced his world beyond compare. Like a beacon in the darkest night, Her love ignited a flame so bright. He adored her every move, Her laughter filled his heart with glee. Her touch sent shivers down his spine, A reminder of her beauty, divine. His thoughts were filled with her allure, Each moment spent with her, he cherished pure. Her smile, a balm for weary eyes, Her presence, a solace, a gentle prize. He danced to her every whim, His heart her captive, forever dim. Her desires, his command, Her worship, his sacred brand. He painted her in vibrant hues,Her eyes twinkled like distant dews. Her skin, like velvet, soft and smooth, He loved her with a passion, uncouth. In his shrine, her image stood tall, A symbol of his devotion, his all. He whispered prayers to her at night, Begging for her constant, eternal light. Her every breath was like a song, Her voice carried melodies that danced along. He would listen for hours, transfixed, In her presence, his soul grew rich.

ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 ─ ✉ . ♡𝆬

With each stolen glance, a symphony played, A melody woven from the threads of her gaze. Her ivory skin, a canvas for his desire, A tapestry adorned with embers of fire. Her voice, a celestial choir soaring high, Whispering truths that made his spirit fly. Her presence, a celestial balm, so sweet, A refuge from the storms that raged at his feet. In her eyes, he saw his own reflection, A mirror of his soul's hidden perfection. She held his broken pieces with gentle care, Rekindling a flame that had once burned bright. Her laughter, a sparkling cascade of bliss, Banishing shadows with its ethereal kiss. Her smile, a beacon that guided him through, A radiant sunrise illuminating the true. With trembling hands, he touched her silken hair, Like brushing petals, a touch beyond compare. Her every gesture, a masterpiece unfurled, An endless canvas where his love unfurled. He worshiped her beauty, an eternal vow, A sacred flame that forever would glow. Her body, a temple, a vessel divine, A haven where his soul would forever entwined. Lost in the labyrinth of her embrace, His heart found solace, a tranquil space. She was his muse, his inspiration eternal, His goddess, his guiding star, his celestial eternal.

@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.

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prythianpages · 2 months

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'Cause Somewhere in the Crowd There's You | Lucien

summary: When Tamlin sends Lucien to the Night Court as his emisssary, he stumbles upon a nightclub and finds himself captivated by you. His sweet nightingale.

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and violence (reader is trapped in a nightclub)

a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: but also was inspired by Lana Del Rey's music and a hint of Oscar Wilde ♥️ This takes place roughly before Amarantha's rule. If I'm going to be honest, I find Lucien hard a bit hard to write for (but this song really gave me lucien vibes) so I hope this doesn't come off a bit out of character for him. also why is it so hard to find pics that match Lucien's vibe on pinterest.

Trapped in the ceaseless rhythm of melancholic blues, you can’t help but feel sick and tired of everything. Days blur into nights. All you do is eat and sleep and sing. The weight of routine presses down on you, suffocating the spark that once fueled your passion.

You wish every show to be your last.

That is, until you see him.

He emerges from the crowd like a radiant sun breaking through the darkest night. His presence is tall and striking with skin kissed by the sun and a cascade of red hair. Despite the length of scars that run down the left side of his face, there is an undeniable elegance and beauty that surrounds him. His eye holds you captive, drawing you in like a moth to a flame and your voice falters for a brief note.

Lucien knows he should leave. Hewn city is not a welcoming one and his meeting with the High Lord of the Night Court did not go well. But against the warning bells ringing in his head, he decides to linger and wander around the dark city. With no clear destination in mind, his feet guide him through the labyrinthine alleys until, almost as if compelled by an unseen force, he stands before the entrance of a mysterious nightclub. Bathed in an eerie red light, the sign above reads The Rose.

As he approaches, the entrance, despite being small, appears almost ethereal. Shadows dance upon the towering stone walls. The air is thick with an alluring blend of magic, pleasure and something darker. Inside is just as mysterious and intoxicating. He should leave and he turns around to do so when he a mesmerizing sound stops him and holds him in place.

“In the land of gods and monsters.”

A beautiful and heavenly voice. It beckons him forward like a siren’s call and he allows the fae lights embedded in the cavern to guide him further. The corners of the nightclub harbor hidden alcoves, draped in luxurious silks and velvet.

“I was an angel living in the garden of evil.”

Some high fae engage in secretive exchanges and gambles. Some are lost in the enigmatic allure of drinks and colorful powders that shimmer with enchantments. Some are engrossed in the pretty fae females and males on their laps. Others, like him, are captured by the hauntingly beautiful song.

“You got that medicine I need. Fame, liquor, love, give it to me slowly.”

Where ancient stone meets polished wood, Lucien finds himself at the bar and orders a drink. He turns to face the stage in the center of the club, leaning against the bar. His mechanical eye emits a soft whir as his gaze travels to the owner of the voice.

“Put your hands on my waist, do it softly.”

A silent awe washes over him as he takes in the sheer beauty before him. Dressed in a white gown that drapes over you like moonlit silk, you stand on the stage like an angel amidst the monsters that lurk in every corner of the place. The fabric mirrors your every movement as you sway to the rhythm of the song in small billowing waves.

“Me and the Mother, we don’t get along. So now I sing.”

It’s as if you sense his gaze on you because your siren eyes are searching the crowd. Mirroring the depths of a fathomless ocean, your eyes are pools of sadness and longing, yet there's a vulnerability that softens in them as they lock with his. Your voice slightly falters and for a heartbeat, time seems to stretch.

A tremor courses through you, fingers tightening their grip onto the microphone. Your eyes darken again and then you’re tearing your gaze away from Lucien. He follows it, curious eyes landing on a male who stands on the balcony facing the stage. Even from where Lucien stands, he can tell the male radiates power and money.

“No one’s gonna take my soul away.”

“They call her the Nightingale.” The bartender says to Lucien as he hands him his drink. Lucien’s gaze returns to you. “She’s off limits. I suggest finding another female to warm you for the night. There’s plenty to choose from here.”

Lucien says nothing in return. Those hadn’t been his intentions upon seeing you. He simply found himself struck by your presence. And as the enchanting notes of your song continue to soar, there’s a rising desire to learn more about you. The thought of extending his stay begins to take root, a subtle whisper tempting him to linger a while longer. He’ll write to Tamlin to reassure him and continue to negotiate with Rhysand further.

The gamble Lucien took to stay in Hewn city is a winning one with each passing night yielding more promising signs of Rhysand's willingness to compromise. It brings him relief as it gives him an excuse to visit the nightclub again. He returns the next night and then the following, noticing something new about you every time.

On the second night, he realizes the male you had glared at the first night he saw you was the owner of the nightclub. Lucien learns that he was right in his first impression of him. Benedict is a wealthy man, both in money and in connections, and is not subtle about the power he holds over this part of the city. Everyone in the nightclub bows down to him but not you. There’s a look of defiance in your eyes every time you look Benedict’s way.

On the third night, your usually hauntingly melancholic voice takes on a different, lighter tone. It’s still just as beautiful but now, harbors a sense of hope. And your eyes find Lucien’s with ease. You don’t break eye contact with him throughout the entirety of your performance that night, as though your song is a serenade meant solely for him.

It’s on the fourth night that he finally gets to talk to you.

Breaking from your routine of disappearing behind the stage curtains after performances, tonight, you grace the bar with your presence, drawing stares from some of the high fae. His grip tightens on his glass when he recognizes a dark hunger in most of them but even so, none dare to approach you.

“What will it be, lovely?” Lucien hears the bartender address you.

Taking the empty spot beside Lucien, your presence and proximity captivate him. His heartbeat falters momentarily as you graciously flip your hair, surrounding him with the divine scent of the sweetest rose.

“Just a water,” you reply and he hears the rustle of your dress as you turn to face him. “You’re not from here.”

Lucien’s lips twitch upwards. “What gave it away?”

“You’re not a monster.”

He finally turns to look at you, a strange warmth spreading through him. Ever since he lost his eye, he had battled with the scars tainting his skin, internalizing a sense of monstrousity. Yet, as you regard him, it feels as though you see an angel where he sees only imperfections.

His eye drinks you in, the mechanical one on the left whirring along. The corner of his lips lift up into a smirk when he catches you doing the same.

“How do you know I’m not a monster?”

“There’s something different about you. Something good,” your eyes study him carefully and then, with a soft sigh, you add, “It’d do you well not to dwell in places like this. They’ll only dim your light.”

Curiosity getting the better of him, Lucien asks, "And what about you?"

Your eyes widen, as though the question catches you off guard. "What about me?"

Despite the myriad thoughts swirling within him, he restrains himself and settles for, "You, too, don't seem to fit into this place.”

You fall into a thoughtful silence and your brow slightly furrows. Lucien keenly observes the subtle shift in your gaze as you scan the room before settling back on him. Leaning in as though sharing a secret, he instinctively leans closer. However, as he anticipates your words, you’re turning your back to him. Just as he's poised to speak, you sweep your hair aside, rendering him speechless as you show him instead.

A delicate tattoo is etched onto the skin between your shoulders—a bird confined within a cage.

“I can’t leave,” he hears your murmur and the ink on your skin appears to shimmer like stars in confirmation. A bargain permanently marked upon flesh. Your flesh and he swallows thickly at what your words imply.

You’re that bird, the nightingale, trapped in the cage.

“I have to go,” you say suddenly and your hair falls back into place, cascading down your back and concealing the telling tattoo. “Will you come by tomorrow?”

“I thought you said I shouldn’t dwell in places like this.”

“You shouldn’t,” you reply with a wistful smile and Lucien hates the way you drop your gaze.

“But I think I will.”

His words prompt your head to lift, eyes meeting his in surprise. A rush of excitement flushes your skin, transforming the wistful smile into one that is lighter, more promising. A fluttering sensation stirs in Lucien's stomach, and he can't help but return your smile.

A couple more days in Hewn City wouldn’t hurt.

Ten days ago, you were stuck in an endless loop of exhaustion and despair, where every night weighed heavily upon you. However, a welcome shift has occurred since then. Sleeping, eating and singing still consume most of your days but a newfound presence has entered the scene. Lucien.

And as the curtains are drawn back, revealing your presence to the awaiting audience, you embrace yourself for the blinding super trouper beams. Unlike nights past where a tinge of melancholy enveloped you, tonight is different.

You won’t feel blue, like you always do, because somewhere in the crowd there’s him.

Lucien’s presence is like a burst of brilliance, akin to the beaming lights that find you on the stage every night. When your eyes find his amongst the crowd, your pulse quickens and heat rushes to your cheeks. It’s like the sight of him proves to you that you're still alive.

In his wake, the shadows that linger in the club cower and hide away. He shines like the sun and you find his brightness infectious. It chases away the gloom that had settled over your own light, reigniting the flames of enthusiasm that had long dimmed within you.

Each note you sang resonated with newfound energy, and every performance became an opportunity to embrace the warmth and vitality he brought into your world. As the final notes of your song hang in the air, you can’t help but feel a sense of destiny. You were meant to meet Lucien.

After your performance, you sneak your way back to the bar where he waits for you.

“You came again,” you smile at him.

Lucien smiles back at you but it falters. “I’m afraid it’ll be the last time…for a while.”

The smile doesn’t waver off your face yet the glistening in your eyes reveals the threat of an emotional storm beginning to unfold. You refuse to dwell in it, not wanting to let the darkness that lingers over you like a gloomy cloud to consume you again.

“Okay,” you manage to breathe. You knew this day was coming. Lucien had to return back home, and you, regrettably, can’t go with him. “Let’s make the most of tonight, then. Dance with me?”

“Are you sure?” Lucien asks and you follow his gaze to where Benedict stands, a top of the balcony as always. You feel a rush of relief when you see a pretty female wrapped around him. A distraction. Perfect.

Lucien watches you, taking in every shift in your expression as he awaits for your answer. It’s not that he doesn’t want to dance with you. Gods, does he want to dance with you. Anything to be able to hold you close. To take you into his arms and hold you tight.

Unfortunately, he’s well aware of the tight leash Benedict keeps you on. He doesn’t let you stray far from his sight. You’re not allowed anywhere near the private nooks lining the club or the rooms at the back where private exchanges occur. It’s for your own safety and Lucien can’t be mad at that. What unsettles him is the way Benedict regards you as his most prized object and Lucien doesn’t want you to face consequences over a dance.

“Yes,” you finally answer.

There’s a strong certainty in your voice but also a subtle plea that tugs at his heartstrings. It brings forth a tightening in his chest. He suppresses the urge to frown. He plans to return to you but for now, it’s your last night together before he has to leave the Night Court.

Lucien graces you with a smile instead. He offers his hand to you, his eyes lighting up with a warmth that mirrors the blood coursing through his veins. A delightful shiver travels up his spine as your hand wraps around his. Until now, you’d only share glances, lingering stares and the occasional brushing of skin.

As the piano begins its enchanting melody, Lucien takes the lead, guiding you onto the dance floor. You’re so close you can feel the warmth of his body and all you want to do is melt into it. Melt into him. But you can’t.

So you bask in the warmth of his gaze instead. Up close, you can now appreciate the depth of his russet eye and you can’t help but marvel at the intricacies of the golden mechanical eye on the left. His gaze never strays from yours throughout the dance and the tender connection between you begins to rise under the brilliance of his gaze, pulling your heart with it.

As he holds you tight, you surrender to the intimate embrace, shedding all inhibitions. Neither of you speak, your eyes speaking for you. It feels as though the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you swaying in harmony. Smiling, having fun, where each step becomes a silent declaration of the unspoken feelings that have blossomed between you.

The passage of time remains elusive as you share the dance, the minutes slipping away unnoticed until the pianist gracefully bows to the audience. Your dance comes to a dreadful stop. Lucien's grasp on you tightens, a reluctant acknowledgment of the inevitable separation.

“I’ll come back for you,” he whispers, his promise carrying a tenderness that ignites a fervent flame within you. “I’ll find a way to help set you free, my sweet nightingale.”

He then pulls a pristine white rose, the same exact shade of white as the dress you wore when he first saw you, from the folds of his coat. He graces you with one last smile as he leans in, placing the rose carefully behind your ear. “Until then,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple and your eyes flutter shut.

“Until then,” you breathe and as Lucien walks away and the shadows inevitably return, you take delight in the way the darkness hesitates to claim you, leaving you untouched.

You can’t even bring yourself to care when Benedict corners you backstage, seething with anger. Of course, he noticed. You don’t even flinch when he throws his glass of whiskey toward the wall behind you, the shattered glass ricocheting. Some of them make their way to you, slicing your skin.

As you settle into the comfort of your small room, you retrieve the white rose from its perch behind your ear, cradling it delicately in your hand. A single drop of blood from one of your healing cuts taints the rose, painting one of the white petals red. Still, you cling onto the slender stem, gripping it as tightly as you grasp onto that fervent flame of hope burning within you. Your light will never dim again…

Because somewhere in Prythian, there’s him.

a/n: I'll admit this took an angstier turn than what I had intended but I hope you still enjoy this darker interpretation of ABBA's Super Trouper lol.

tagging: @scooobies

#lucien x reader #lucien x yn #lucien x you #acotar fanfiction #lucien fanfiction #lucien vanserra x you #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra fanfiction #lucien imagine #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

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sagewritings · 5 months

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Shadows of Peace - Finnick Odair x Fem!Reader

pairing: finnick odair x female reader

synopsis: in the aftermath of the war, you and Finnick attempt to grasp a sense of peace amid the ruins. while the external scars slowly fade, the internal turmoil within Finnick's mind persists, casting shadows over the fragile peace you both seek.

word count: 2.4k

warnings/tags: post-war, mentions of death, trauma

a/n: hello everyone! it’s been a while since i’ve posted here on my blog because of college and as an apology, i’m posting 2 fics for yall :> i just recently watched the ballad of songbirds and snakes and it took me back to my hunger games phase when i couldn’t focus on anything else whenever finnick would be on screen lol

the other fanfic is about young coriolanus snow so if you’d like to check that out (as well as my other works) you can check the pinned post in my blog :)

i hope you’ll like this one! happy reading!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

The smoke from the rebellion had settled, leaving District 13 in an uneasy calm. Finnick Odair, the once-dazzling victor from District 4, stood on the balcony of his quarters, a ghost of the man he used to be. His eyes, once vibrant with life, now held a haunted look, reflecting the toll of war and loss. As he stared into the distance, memories of the arena, the Capitol, and the faces of fallen comrades flashed before his eyes.

The door creaked open, and you stepped into the room. The connection between you and Finnick was undeniable, a thread woven through the chaos and pain of the rebellion. You had fought side by side, relying on each other in the darkest moments. Yet, despite the camaraderie, an unspoken tension lingered between you two.

"Hey," you said softly, your voice breaking the heavy silence. Finnick turned to look at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Hey," he replied, his voice carrying the weight of the world. The two of you had survived the unimaginable, but the scars ran deep. Finnick's mind was a battlefield, haunted by the ghosts of the arena, the Capitol's manipulation, and the friends he had lost.

You approached him cautiously, your eyes searching his face for any sign of vulnerability. "Finnick, you don't have to carry this alone. We're here for you."

A bitter smile played on Finnick's lips. "We all have our demons, sweetheart. Some of us just got better at hiding them."

The weight of his words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the scars that the rebellion had left on everyone. The cost of freedom had been steep, and for Finnick, it felt like the very essence of who he was had been sacrificed in the process.

Silence settled between you, thick and suffocating, as if the air itself held the weight of unspoken words. Finnick's gaze shifted to the distant mountains, a longing in his eyes that mirrored the ache in your heart.

"I thought winning the Games would be the hardest part," he mused, his voice a low murmur. "But it turns out, surviving them... that's the real struggle."

You nodded in understanding, your heart aching for the man before you who had faced horrors most could not fathom. Finnick's eyes met yours, a mixture of pain and yearning reflected in their depths.

"Sometimes I wonder if it was worth it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "All the fighting, the sacrifices. For what? A broken world, a shattered existence."

You took a step closer, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Finnick, we fought for a chance at a better future. We fought so that others wouldn't have to endure what we did."

He sighed, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of his face. "I know, I know. But at what cost? Look around, and all I see are reminders of the price we paid."

You wanted to argue, to convince him that the sacrifices had meaning, but the haunted look in his eyes silenced you. Finnick pulled away gently, as if your touch burned him, and walked to the balcony once more.

"The Capitol took everything from me," he continued, his voice a bitter edge. "My family, my friends, my identity. And even though we won, it feels like I'm still in their grip, like I can never escape."

Your heart ached for him, for the wounds that ran deeper than any physical scars. "You're not alone, Finnick. We're here for you, to help you find your way back."

He turned to you, his eyes searching yours as if seeking a lifeline. "I don't even know who I am anymore. The Capitol shaped me into their plaything, and now... now I'm just trying to piece together the fragments they left behind."

Tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of frustration and empathy. "You're more than the Capitol's creation, Finnick. You're a survivor, a fighter. And there's strength in that, in the person you've become despite everything."

Finnick's gaze softened, a vulnerability breaking through the walls he had erected. "I just... I don't want to lose myself completely."

In that moment, you made a silent vow to stand by him, to help him reclaim the pieces of himself that the Capitol had stolen. The journey to healing would be long and arduous, but you were determined to be a steady anchor in the storm that raged within Finnick's soul.

Days turned into weeks, and the remnants of the rebellion slowly transformed District 13 from a war-torn refuge to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the scars remained, etched into the fabric of the survivors' lives.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the district, you found Finnick sitting alone by the shore of a small lake. His gaze was distant, lost in the ripples of the water as if seeking answers to questions that plagued his mind.

You approached him, the soft crunch of gravel under your boots announcing your presence. Finnick glanced up, his eyes meeting yours. There was a weariness in his gaze, but a glimmer of something else—resilience, perhaps.

"Hey," you greeted, taking a seat beside him.

"Hey," he replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

The two of you sat in companionable silence, the lull of the water and the fading sunlight creating a sense of peace. It was a stark contrast to the chaos and violence that had defined your recent past.

"I've been thinking," Finnick began, his voice breaking the quiet. "About everything that happened, about who I was, who I am now.”

You turned to him, giving him the space to share what was on his mind.

"I can't change the past," he continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "But maybe I can shape my future. Find a way to be more than the Capitol's puppet."

Hope flickered in your chest, a warmth that spread through the chill of the evening air. "You don't have to do it alone, Finnick. We're here for you, to support you every step of the way."

Finnick turned to you, his eyes holding a mixture of gratitude and determination. "I know. And I appreciate that more than you can imagine."

As the days passed, Finnick took small steps toward reclaiming his identity. He sought solace in the company of those who understood the scars he carried, forming bonds with fellow victors who shared the weight of the Games.

One evening, as a group of you gathered in the communal area, laughter echoed through the room. It was a sound that had been absent for too long, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit.

Finnick, now surrounded by friends who had faced the Capitol's horrors alongside him, allowed himself a genuine smile. It was a sight that warmed your heart, a glimpse of the man he could become beyond the shadows of the Games.

In the midst of the healing, a connection blossomed between you and Finnick. It was a slow burn, a fragile ember that neither of you dared to name. The wounds of the past still lingered, creating a delicate dance between wanting to move forward and the fear of what the future held.

One evening, as the two of you strolled through the reconstructed gardens of District 13, Finnick spoke, his words weighed with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"I never thought I'd find something worth fighting for beyond survival," he admitted, his eyes meeting yours. "But being here with you, it's like... like I've found a piece of myself I thought I'd lost forever."

The admission hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between you. In that moment, you understood that your connection went beyond the shared trauma of the Games; it was a lifeline, a source of strength that allowed both of you to rebuild.

"I feel it too," you confessed, your voice soft but sincere. "We've been through hell, Finnick, but maybe... maybe we can find a new beginning."

He nodded, the weight of the unspoken understanding lingering between you. As the moon cast its gentle glow over the quiet district, you and Finnick stood together, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the possibility of finding love amidst the ruins of war.

In the weeks that followed, Finnick and you navigated the complexities of a burgeoning relationship. It was a delicate dance, filled with moments of joy and vulnerability, but through it all, the connection between you grew stronger.

One day, as you sat together on the rooftop of the reconstructed buildings, watching the sunrise paint the sky in hues of pink and gold, Finnick turned to you.

"I never thought I'd have a chance at happiness," he admitted, his fingers intertwined with yours. "But with you, it feels like maybe... maybe I can find it."

You smiled, the warmth of the rising sun reflecting the hope that had blossomed between you. "We'll find it together, Finnick. Whatever comes our way, we'll face it together."

And so, in the aftermath of the rebellion, amidst the ruins of a broken world, Finnick Odair and you found solace in each other's arms. The scars of the past were still there, a testament to the battles fought and the losses endured, but together, you forged a new beginning—one marked by healing, love, and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

As the days turned into months, the rebuilding efforts in District 13 continued. The scars on the landscape mirrored the healing process within the hearts of its people. Finnick's journey, too, progressed as he rediscovered pieces of himself he thought were lost forever.

The bond between you and Finnick deepened, evolving into a partnership built on trust and shared experiences. Together, you faced the challenges of rebuilding not only the district but also your lives. The echoes of the rebellion were still present, but they no longer defined the narrative.

Finnick threw himself into community projects, channeling his pain into rebuilding the world around him. The once-dull district started to bloom with life as gardens flourished, laughter echoed through the streets, and a sense of normalcy settled over the survivors.

One day, as you and Finnick walked through the bustling market that had replaced the desolation of war, he turned to you with a sparkle in his eyes. "I never thought I'd see something beautiful emerge from the ruins."

You smiled, grateful for the newfound hope in his words. "We're making something beautiful together, Finnick. It's a testament to the strength within all of us."

The scars on Finnick's soul didn't vanish completely, but they became a part of a larger tapestry, woven with threads of resilience and shared purpose. The Capitol's grip on him loosened, replaced by a determination to shape his own destiny.

As the seasons changed, so did the dynamics of your relationship with Finnick. The initial fragility evolved into a robust partnership. He learned to lean on you not just in times of despair but also in moments of joy. You navigated the complexities of love and healing, forging a connection that became an anchor in the ebb and flow of life.

One evening, as the two of you stood on the balcony overlooking the district, Finnick pulled you into a gentle embrace. The lights of District 13 shimmered below, a testament to the resilience of a community that had faced the brink of destruction.

"I never thought I'd find peace again," Finnick murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "But with you, I've found something more profound than I ever imagined."

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "We've come a long way, Finnick. And we'll keep moving forward, together."

In the months that followed, the remnants of the rebellion became tales told to the younger generation, a history etched into the collective memory of District 13. Finnick, once haunted by the ghosts of the arena, became a beacon of hope for those who had faced the Capitol's tyranny.

Together, you and Finnick worked to ensure that the scars of the past didn't dictate the future. District 13 prospered, becoming a symbol of resilience and rebirth. Finnick's journey of self-discovery inspired others to find strength in their vulnerabilities, to rebuild not just the physical structures but also the foundations of their lives.

As the years passed, and the wounds of war healed, Finnick and you found solace in the quiet moments. The rooftop sunsets, the shared laughter, and the simple joys of everyday life became the pillars of your relationship.

One day, as you walked hand in hand through the district, Finnick stopped by a patch of blooming flowers. He plucked a vibrant bloom and tucked it behind your ear, a tender smile gracing his lips.

"From the ruins, something beautiful emerged," he said, his gaze filled with gratitude.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. "And it's still growing, Finnick. Our story is far from over."

In the evenings, as you both sat on the balcony, watching the sunset cast its warm glow over District 13, Finnick would often reflect on the journey from the ashes of rebellion to the blossoming of a new life.

"I never thought I'd find love after everything," he'd say, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and contentment.

"You found more than love, Finnick," you'd reply, your fingers intertwined with his. "You found a new beginning, a chance at happiness despite the scars."

And in those quiet moments, with the echoes of the past becoming softer, you and Finnick would embrace the present and look towards the future, knowing that, together, you had found a strength that transcended the trials of the Games and the horrors of war—a strength that could build something beautiful from the ruins of a broken world.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair imagine #the hunger games #finnick odair x you #finnick odair fluff #thg finnick

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sweetcarrotsandroses97 · 3 months

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Noirceur | JJK | Main Part

Pairing: demon! Jungkook x fem! human! Reader

Summary: A kiss. A curse. A tangled fate. A dark soul. His love breaks your fate, your bond cures his death. And a poetic dance that he traps you in, along with your own song that only he can hear. A story told wrong or in which Jungkook finds his lover after swimming through centuries of lost time and cursed minds.

Warnings: fluff?, angst, demon! Jungkook, black swan! Jungkook because I'm obsessed, toxic love, soft yandere?, obsession, implied kidnapping, dark fantasy, magic, curses, spells, blood, minor injuries, anxiety and feelings related to it, non-con kissing, kinda creepy, mentions of death, poetic writing, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3.1k words

A/N: I wrote this one in one sitting O.O, let me know what you think in the comments, darlings! Also, who else is obsessed with Black Swan Jungkook? Because I certainly am and this fic was inspired by the music video and my own ideas :D.

ALSO, this au is open for further parts if you request anything, darling! My inbox is open, lovelies xxx. This story will go how you like and I'll link all the parts into a Main Masterlist when something is requested for this story.

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

Noirceur: (noun). The state of being pitch black in colour; a state of lacking illumination.

The stories you have heard all your life were true. You didn't doubt it anymore.

From purity to evil. From light to the darkest night. A loneliness that turned into love, it morphed into an obsession. A claymation of a life, a soul. A being. A heart.

In the depths of hell where shadows writhe,

A demon walks, his heart alive.

His eyes, twin flames, burn with desire,

To find a soul, his dark empire.

The legend had changed, because Jungkook did not live in hell. His empire was situated over this very Earth. He had searched for centuries for that part of him, that part of him that was still alive. That part of his heart that was still beating and that should not fear him. That soulmate that was given to him by fate itself. That soulmate he wanted to claim. That lover he needed to possess.

He felt it when you entered the abandoned castle of arts, the large opera house where he had died many moons ago. He could no longer remember how he stopped being in the land of the living but he had never come across another one of his kind.

He was cursed. To live forever and torment the unfortunate souls of this world. He was cursed. To be alone in his long time punishment. He was cursed, his heart burned to ashes and his power rose from the depths of the earth.

But since you came across his path, Jungkook's punishment became a game for him to play. A game for you to endure.

You had been running endlessly through the infinite halls of the large opera house. Your naked feet were painted in crimson red as they bled with every step you took. You ran, passing through many hallways with many paintings hanging on the walls. You ran and ran, a soft music in the background made the hairs at the back of your neck stand up with nerves, with fear.

Footsteps were heard behind you. Those footsteps that had been chasing you for so long you could no longer remember when was the last time you had actually been outside of this abandoned castle of arts that was now your prison in hell.

"Come out, little dove. I only want to play."

You bit your lip as the words reached your ears. Those words that dripped from the mouth of your captor. The man who chased you to the end of the world, however you doubted he was actually a man.

You hid behind some curtains worn out by time itself. Your hands clenched the fabric of the dirty dress that was only enough to cover your dignity. It made you shiver. From the cold, from the fear. Maybe both, maybe neither.

"(y/n), (y/n). Dearest, (y/n)...STOP HIDING!"

You flinched when his voice boomed around the place you didn't doubt had once been beautiful. Blood oozed from the bite your teeth inflicted over your tender lip and you sniffled, hearing the footstep halt before they began echoing around once more, this time coming closer to you.

Through realms of terror, he roams the night,

Seeking a heart to claim as his right.

A soulmate bound by fate's cruel hand,

To join him in the demon's land.

In fear, you ran once more. As if you could ever leave his poisonous claws. As if you were able to leave that hideous place that played with your mind, with your soul, with your heart and memories as if they were toys at his reach. For him to use as he pleased.

Curtains hung from the tall ceiling that once had a beautiful pattern painted on it. It made you feel lost. As if you were running in circles. Always lost. With nowhere to go. As if you had ever had a choice. Or better said, as if your choice had been willingly taken by you.

Because there had once been a choice. A choice you made. A decision you chose. You entered that place by your own will yet your freedom in leaving was never yours to be held in the first place. It made you sick to the stomach, as if a storm was closing in on you and there was no way out of it. No sun ripping through the curtains, no wind blowing the clouds away.

Jungkook could hear your frantic breathing, your hurried footsteps and suppressed sobs. He could hear your beating heart resonating so strongly in his ears it only sent a chill down his spine at the chase.

He remembered the sweet scent that suddenly invaded his own prison the moment you entered the large opera house. For only the kiss of his soulmate would free him from the shackles of fate, only the purity of the heart would be able to set him free and roam the world as he pleased.

In whispers cold, his voice does call,

A siren's song, a chilling thrall.

He seeks a soul as dark as he,

To walk with him, for eternity.

"Don't you know that I love you, sweet (y/n)? Why do you run from your lover, hmm? If you come to me willingly, it will hurt way less, love."

You ran and ran, ignoring the pain in your feet, the pressure in your chest, the harsh beating of your heart. You weren't going to give up that easily. You weren't going to surrender without fighting back.

The hallways carried so many paintings on the walls. So many paintings of beautiful women. Pictures that you couldn't pay enough attention to. Paintings that resembled absolute fear and sorrow, something you didn't know but felt utterly familiar.

You stopped running when you made it to the main theatre as you stood on the old stage. The wooden beneath your feet was dusted with the remnants of time, broken glass was scattered along the dark wood from the frail chandelier that hung from the ceiling with its crystals tainted in greying dust.

The pain in your feet was ignored as you walked across the stage. You didn't hear Jungkook's maniac laugh, you didn't hear his approaching footsteps or his sick declarations of love. Of obsession. Yet the silence made you even more nervous. You didn't know where you were, you didn't know what day it was. Time had become a foreign concept for you, a thing your mind could no longer grasp.

How long had you been trapped in that hauntingly beautiful place? Has it been hours, days... months? Did people search for you? How about Taehyung, the man who sent you to that place to begin with? Was he wondering why you never came back to work? Was he wondering if you were still working on the story of the broken opera house to publish in his extravagant magazine? Did he even remember your presence or did he keep you around because you never questioned his orders and demands?

But there was no use in blaming others for your current situation because there was nothing to be done. You walked in an almost monotonous way to the centre of the stage, blood staining the ground below your feet as more and more cuts opened your precious skin.

Jungkook watched you from behind the curtains, he watched you wander around the open space. He watched you with haunted eyes glimmering in golden magic that cursed through his veins. He watched you with desire and delicacy. As if you had been crafted into a perfect doll for him to care when all his hands had ever done was to destroy and taint.

Your tears adorned your face like small diamonds over your soft looking skin. He wanted to wipe them and treasure such pearls of pain and fear within him. Your hands trembled as you gazed around you, eyes fixing on the fallen glass on the ground, the broken chandelier that hung from the ceiling and that seemed to snap at any moment, the crusty wood beneath your feet and the old paintings of women around the grand place.

"You don't have to run anymore, little dove."

Beneath the moon's unholy light,

He searches for his love in fright.

Through haunted woods and cursed moors,

His longing heart forever lures.

With a choke gasp you turned around, watching as Jungkook emerged from the back of the stage, the curtains giving him an aura that made you shiver. He took a step forward and you took a step backward. The need to keep as much distance between the being that kept you in his grasp and your own sanity was stronger than your actual fear of him.

"I have waited centuries to finally meet you."

His words only made more tears roll down your cheeks, eyes red and puffy as you glared at him in fear. You took a step as he approached you once more.

"Please..."

Your sweet voice enchanted him like a curse. Desiring to hear you speak once more, he remained silent and listened, taking another step towards you and instinctively you took once back.

"...please, let me go. I p-promise I won't tell anyone about what happened h-here today. I'll never come back and disturb you but, please-"

He laughed, a sound so harmonious it echoes around the empty opera house. You found it alluring, like a siren's song but you had to physically refrain yourself from falling into his arms.

"Do you really think I'll let you go after searching for you through so many lifetimes? You are mine, little dove. Forever mine."

Jungkook smiled, ever so sweetly you felt sick. A smile that got engraved in your memories forever. You shook your head but couldn't look away, taking another step back as he insisted on getting close to you.

"Look around you, love! Look around you and deny me that we aren't meant to be! We are destined, little dove. Tangled by fate. Look! Look around, (y/n)!"

And you did, not hesitating to follow his command with the force in his voice that made you suppress a sob. You looked around, eyes landing on one of the many paintings of the large room. One of the paintings that decorated the dull walls. The paintings that were old and worn out by time. Your eyes widened when you saw it. When you witnessed that the demon in front of you spoke nothing but fact. A sudden realisation dawned upon you and you felt as if you were drowning in a well with nothing to hold on to and nothing to hope for.

Because the lady on the painting cried tears of blood, the lady on the painting resembles your soul. Those were your hands, fisting the fabric of your dress in a deathly grip. Those were your tears rolling down your cheeks. The woman in the picture was the reflection of your soul trapped in a timeless mirror of blood.

"You see now? This whole castle of arts is our sanctuary. Our palace, Queen of mine."

You shook your head, in shock, in rejection. In fear. In anguish. You shook your head as you took step after step backwards even when he wasn't doing anything to get close to you.

Was your fate really next to him? Were you really tangled in such a web of lies you weren't able to escape? Or was he just playing with your mind?

"Stop it, (y/n)."

Jungkook spoke in alarm as he saw you getting closer and closer to the edge of the stage. But you didn't listen, your mind acted on its own in a fragile attempt at getting you away from this nightmare you had fallen into.

"Stop it!"

"Get away from me!"

Your scream resonated all over the place, your feet didn't stop moving until you stood at the edge. The height was enough to hurt you and the sole idea of it made him feel his heart beating, at least for a second or two as you stood on the edge while you faced him with shock written all over your beautiful features.

You took another step and a gasp escaped your lips as the floor disappeared from beneath you. Your eyes closed in instinct and your arms flailed as gravity pulled you down towards the hard ground covered in broken glass that was surely going to break you.

Jungkook acted in an instance, his eyes glowed in golden yellow as his large and black wings spread behind his back and he moved across the stage in less than a second, a path of ice was left behind him, freezing the ground below him, the curtains around the stage and his heart as well as he caught you in his arms before you were to succumb to nature's own force.

But in his quest, he leaves a trail,

Of fear and anguish, deathly pale.

For those who cross his path beware,

The demon's love is naught but despair.

Your eyes met his in a dance of emotions that made you dizzy in its nature. His hands found home on your waist just as your own rested on his forearms. His eyes, ever so beautiful, hid so many secrets you felt curious about yet you wished to remain in the darkness as well.

"I won't leave you. Not after burning in my own grief with your absence. You are the key to my existence, love"

His words pierced your soul like a sharp dagger. You sniffled, breathing in deeply as you found yourself gazing into his golden irises.

"You'll never leave my side."

One of his hands left your waist as it cradled your cheek softly. His touch burned you with an ice cold feeling it made you shiver in his arms whether from the coldness itself or fear of your current position, you really couldn't tell.

"You will learn to love me, (y/n). Just like I have loved you all this time. You'll learn."

Jungkook never broke eye contact with you as he allowed himself to swim in your (e/c) gaze. Your skin under his palm felt soft, the softest he has ever touched in both his lives as a mortal and as a demon of death.

You gulped, wanting to run away from him. Disgusted at his unwanted touch but strangely craving it more. As if you had been deprived of it for so long. Maybe your soul has. Maybe it was your soul that missed him, that missed that other part that was to complete your existence yet your heart and mind rejected that very own idea.

His eyes glowed once more, his wings extending behind him as he looked down at you with his golden eyes that prevented you from looking away. You found yourself enthralled by his magic, his powers and strength.

Your rigid body relaxed in his arms and he suppressed the growing smirk that threatened to appear over his lips. For he had captivated your mind in a glowy golden trance that would allow his freedom.

Jungkook leaned forward and he found no resistance from you so he continued until his lips met yours. His spell had worked over your mind even when your heart was beating wildly against your chest.

He kissed you and golden magic radiated from him. He kissed you and the chains of fate released him. He kissed you and was now a free demon, free to roam the Earth as he pleased. Free to do whatever his heart wanted for as long as you stayed next to him.

He escaped his own jail, that castle of arts was no longer his prison but was now his palace with you as his Queen of darkness.

He kissed you and he tainted you. His golden magic erupted from the very depths of his soul and enveloped you both as he was crowned as the king of darkness, with you as his precious queen.

Forever and always.

For all times to come.

For all lifetimes to last.

And you'll learn to love him, maybe not as much as he loved you. But you'll learn. Eventually. Why shouldn't a Queen love her King? Why wouldn't you love him when he gave you the world to your feet? Why wouldn't you love him when your souls were tangled?

Jungkook would wait. Wait until you'd love him completely, wholeheartedly. Absolutely and undoubtedly. For you were the reason for his black soul and now beating heart. A heart that only beats for you and you alone. His Queen of Darkness.

And when he broke the kiss and your body grew limp in his hold, he carried you in his arms, his wings extended and he flew. He flew to the skies with your body in his hold. He flew away to a place no other mortal knew about. His own palace. His own hell. His kingdom. That place where his home was, that place he’ll share with you.

Because Jungkook had waited centuries for you to finally find your way to him. He’d wait more if it meant you’ll love him in the end. Another lifetime felt like nothing if he knew you would give him your heart with your very own hands as you wore your crown of darkness, matching with his and ruling his kingdom of evil.

What was heaven compared to your love? What was light compared to your heart in the night? What was obedience compared to the sins of his own mind? Did it matter? No. It never did. And now that you were finally his to love and cherish for eternity, he could burn the world down for you to smile at him ever so softly and delicately, like an elegant rose with deathly thorns. Like a true queen of his domain.

His Queen.

So if you hear his haunting cry,

Beneath the starless, moonless sky,

Beware his love, a twisted fate,

For in his arms, darkness awaits.

January/19/2024

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

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telail · 2 months

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never alone ⋆.ೃ࿔* c.s

Pairing: Choi San x Gn!Reader Tags: 1k wc, established relationship, angst, comfort, depression, fluff, ateez oneshot 🎧- Runaway by AURORA note: a little message from me to any of my readers or anyone who happens to come across this that you're never alone even in hard times. Luv u all <3 -TAE

In the quiet corners of your mind where shadows dance with light, there lay a battlefield that is scarcely spoken of.

To the world, you move with grace that belies the turmoil within, your smile which has turned itself into a well practiced mask that hides the depths of your struggles becoming nothing more than a display to those outside of your head.

Never knowing that beneath the surface there's a constant war against invisible adversaries– anxiety, depression, and a haunting sense of isolation that clings to you like a second skin.

As of lately each day has become a journey through a fog of internal conflicts, where every step forward is a victory hard-won against the chains of your own mind.

Your world has become one where your mental health is both the monster under your bed and the unseen weight upon your shoulders, a reality that you force yourself not to face.

In these moments of solitude, you battle with your thoughts, the darkest of which whisper of inadequacy and despair. Yet in the midst of this silent war, there lies a thread of resilience– a faint but unwavering light of hope.

Choi san, someone you’d met earlier on in your life. He was a kind soul with a gentle heart that somewhere along the line he’d trusted you to handle with care.

You’d crossed paths with each other when you were just teenagers and from there to now San had turned himself into something you could lean on through a bond sealed with genuine love and trust.

He pays close attention to you throughout the time that you two spend together, it’s always been an attribute of his that you’ve admired. How attentive he was when it came to people he cared about– able to pick up on even the smallest interests and quirks within a person just because it matters that much to him.

Which is why it wasn't surprising when he was the first to notice the subtle shift in your once vibrant spirit.

Where your laughter used to reside, which used to fill his ears and shoot straight to his heart leaving it with a warm fuzzy feeling– had now been replaced by a somber quiet. He noticed.

Sitting at the edge of your shared bed, San reached for your hand, feeling the coldness of your flesh and the silver diamond laced band wrapped around your ring finger. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the quiet of the room.

You look up at him, your eyes vacant of any signs of interest though you try so hard to make it look otherwise. “Hi,” you replied, a ghost of a smile passing your lips.

“You’ve been.. quiet– lately. More than what I’m used to. What's been going on in that pretty head of yours hm?” He encouraged, squeezing your hand.

You hesitated, letting out a shaky sigh as you tried your absolute best to decline the feeling of tears making their way to your eyes immediately at the pure sincerity in his voice alone.

“I don't- it's- it’s like I'm lost in a fog, San. And- I can't see the way out– I- everything just feels like it's everywhere all at one time and it's too much– it's too much for me and I don't know how to handle it because I don't think I’ve ever felt so intensely before.”

San moved closer, nodding his head to give you a sense of reassurance that he heard you, that he was listening.

“You’ve been having a hard time for a while haven't you?” he asked, opening his arms slightly as an invitation to which you nodded and pushed yourself into his embrace.

“I know, I’m sure it’s been difficult baby.” he whispers, kissing the top of your head before continuing “Thank you– for telling me, giving me the chance to reassure you that you're not alone in that fog and that I’ll be here, to help you find a way out of that fog no matter how long it takes- we’ll find a way out, together.”

“You sound so.. sure. How do we really know it’ll all work out, or how much more of this I'll have to take?” You mumbled, leaning into his embrace.

“Because it always does, always. Life gives you clouds but sometimes they get in the way and turn into this inconvenience we call fog. It makes it hard to see and it makes things feel all damp and icky but it clears up, and things dry. I’ve been through some fog myself in life but you made me feel as though it wasn't just me trying to blow it all away on my own. So now it's my turn to do the same for you.”

By now you’d stopped fighting the tears nicking at your tear ducts to be released, a few spilled from your eyes as you asked, “But what if it doesn't lift what if it's just too much, even for the both of us?”

San swiped his fingers gently across your cheeks, ridding your tears with his gentle touch while leaving soft kisses in their trails.

“Then we’ll walk, and we’ll keep walking and we’ll keep blowing until it does. And on days when it feels too much we’ll stand still. There's no rush as long as it's me and you angel.”

You only found yourself nestling closer to him, finding solace in his words. “I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah? That makes two of us.” He says, flashing you his pretty dimpled smile. “Life is scary, but we're in this together.” He said, his tone becoming serious again as he lifted your head, your gaze meeting his.

“We’ll light up whatever darkness you’ve been facing with thousands of little moments of joy and more.. I promise we’ll make it through.” He reassured you, something he was just so unfairly good at.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a genuine sense of hope. In San’s unwavering support you found the courage to face your struggles, not as insurmountable barriers, but as part of your journey together.

A testament to the healing power of love and companionship. Through dialogues of heart and moments of silent understanding, you remind each other that even in the deepest fog, no one has to walk alone.

Thank you for reading. Excuse any mistakes! =) -T © telail 2024 | do not copy, translate, or modify.

#ateez #kpop #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez choi san #choi san #angst #comfort #depressing shit #ateez fluff #ateez oneshot

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barelytolerabled · 11 months

Note

Hi sorry this is rlly depressing but can you do a Spencer x wife!Reader where reader had a miscarriage or something idk

Fragments of Healing

Spencer Reid x wife!Reader

Summary: ⬆️

Warnings: miscarriage, grief

WC: 1.624

Taglist: @envraijesaispas @rosecentury @taygrls @thisismeraki @thenerdthatwrites @bigbunnygucci @jordie-gvf @twdgviolets

The house was too quiet, the stillness settling heavily upon your heart. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you clutched your stomach, aching with the knowledge that something was wrong. A mix of fear and worry coursed through your veins as you dialed Spencer's number for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Voicemail. He was away on a case, and it seemed like he was unreachable.

Days had passed since you started feeling off, but Spencer had convinced you it was just your nerves. His brilliant mind, always so logical and rational, couldn't fathom the possibility of anything going wrong. But deep down, you knew something wasn't right. With each passing moment, your unease grew, and now it had become a relentless torment.

Desperate for support, you reached for your phone and dialed JJ's number, praying that your friend would pick up.

"JJ, please," you pleaded, your voice wavering. "I can't take it anymore. I don't know what's happening, and Spencer's not here. I need you."

JJ's voice, laced with concern, filled the line. "I'm on my way. Just hold on. You're not alone."

You clung to the phone, feeling a glimmer of hope wash over you. JJ had always been a compassionate friend, and you knew you could trust her. In your fragile state, the mere thought of facing Spencer's potential reaction terrified you.

Minutes felt like an eternity until you heard a knock on your front door. You hastily wiped away your tears and opened it to reveal JJ, her eyes filled with concern.

"Hey, are you okay?" JJ asked, pulling you into a comforting hug. "What happened?"

"I don't know," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I've been feeling off, and the pain... it's unbearable."

JJ guided you to the couch, settling you down with a gentle touch. "Let's get you to a hospital, okay? We'll figure this out together."

Tears streamed down your face as you nodded, grateful for JJ's unwavering support. The drive to the hospital was a blur, and soon you found yourself in a sterile room, surrounded by doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly to assess your condition. JJ remained at your side, her presence a constant source of comfort in the midst of your fear and uncertainty.

Hours turned into eternity, until finally, a doctor approached you with solemn eyes. Your worst fears were confirmed in that moment. You have lost your baby.

The world crumbled around you as the doctor explained the details. Your heartache was overwhelming, and a fresh wave of grief washed over you. You clung to JJ, who held you tight, offering a silent solace in your darkest moment.

Meanwhile, Spencer's mind raced as he traveled back home, eager to see his beloved wife after the long and grueling case. He anticipated sharing stories of his triumphs, unaware of the impending devastation that awaited him.

Arriving at the familiar threshold, he noticed the eerie silence that enveloped the house. Panic gripped him, and he called out for you, hoping for a response that would dissolve the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. But the only response was the echo of his own voice, as if the walls were mocking him.

Frantic, Spencer searched every room, his heart pounding in his ears. His gaze fell upon the missed calls and voicemail notifications on his phone. As he listened to your trembling voice, describing the anguish that had transpired, a cold wave of realization washed over him.

Tears welled up in Spencer's eyes as he understood the depth of his failure. He hadn't been there when you needed him most, leaving you to suffer alone. Guilt and regret threatened to consume him, his hands shaking with sorrow and remorse.

His trembling fingers dialed JJ's number, praying for answers. JJ hesitated before answering, sensing Spencer's anxiety.

"JJ, where is she? Is she okay? Why isn't she answering her phone?" Spencer's voice cracked with worry.

JJ's voice softened, knowing the difficult conversation that lay ahead. "Spencer, She... she needed me. She's with me right now."

Silence hung heavy on the line as Spencer tried to process the information. Concern mixed with confusion and fear. "Why? What happened? Is she hurt?"

Taking a deep breath, JJ gently explained, "Spencer, she had lost it. She needed support, and she was scared of how you'd react. She needed time to process everything."

Spencer's heart shattered into a million pieces, the weight of his absence crashing down on him. Guilt and grief washed over him in a torrent. He felt the overwhelming urge to be by your side, to hold you and share in your pain.

"I need to see her, JJ," he managed to say, his voice strained with emotion. "Please, tell her I'm coming. I... I love her so much."

JJ assured him that you needed time, but promised to pass along his message. She knew that healing would take time, but also believed in the strength of your love.

Finally, the moment arrived when Spencer stood outside JJ's door, his hand trembling as he raised it to knock. The door swung open, revealing a tired and sympathetic JJ. Her eyes met his, filled with unspoken understanding.

"She's upstairs," JJ said softly, leading Spencer to where you were seeking refuge.

As he climbed the stairs, Spencer's heart pounded in his chest, the anticipation of seeing you mingling with the fear of what he might find. He pushed open the door to JJ's spare room and saw you sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Honey," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, choked with emotion. "I'm here."

You looked up at him, your gaze filled with both pain and a glimmer of hope. "Spencer..."

Without hesitation, Spencer crossed the room and enveloped you in his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as you both wept. The weight of your loss settled between you, an unspoken bond formed through shared grief.

"I'm so sorry," Spencer murmured into your hair, his voice filled with regret. "I should have been there for you. I should have listened."

You clung to him, finding solace in his presence despite the pain. "We'll get through this together, Spencer. We have to."

He nodded, his grip on you never faltering. "I love you, I love you so much. And I'm here for you, now and always."

The drive back to your house was filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. Spencer's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he glanced over at you, his eyes filled with worry and uncertainty. He couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on his shoulders, knowing he had let you down when you needed him most.

As you pulled into the driveway, the familiar sight of home brought a bittersweet ache to your heart. It was a reminder of the life that was supposed to be, now shattered by loss. But you also found solace in returning to a space that held memories of love and comfort.

The front door creaked open as you and Spencer cautiously stepped into the house that had once been filled with joy and anticipation. Now, it felt haunted by grief and loss. The air was heavy with a mix of sorrow and tentative hope.

As you entered the familiar space, Spencer's hesitance was palpable. He kept a respectful distance, giving you the space you needed to navigate this painful return. It was evident in his every movement and the way his eyes lingered on you, searching for any sign of your comfort.

Silence hung in the air as you both stood in the living room, the weight of the past few days bearing down on your weary shoulders. You took a deep breath, summoning the strength to move forward, but uncertainty still gnawed at you.

The two of you slowly made your way upstairs, hand in hand, the quietness of the house amplifying your footsteps. In the bedroom, Spencer helped you settle onto the bed, arranging the pillows for your comfort. His touch was gentle and tender, as if he feared causing you any further pain.

Once you were situated, Spencer began to gather his belongings, preparing to retreat to the couch, intending to give you space to rest and heal. But before he could step away, you reached out and caught his hand, your eyes pleading with him.

"Please, Spencer," you whispered, your voice filled with vulnerability. "Stay here with me tonight. I don't want to be alone."

Spencer's gaze met yours, his hesitation giving way to a deep understanding. Without a word, he set aside his belongings and gently climbed onto the bed beside you, ensuring he maintained a respectful distance.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice laced with tenderness. "I won't leave your side."

A sense of comfort settled within you as you curled up against Spencer, his warmth and steady presence a balm to your wounded heart. With his arms wrapped protectively around you, you felt a glimmer of peace amidst the pain.

The room was enveloped in a quiet stillness, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing and the occasional brush of Spencer's fingers through your hair. The night stretched before you, an expanse of time to heal and rebuild.

In that moment, you knew that while the road to recovery would be challenging, you would face it together. With Spencer by your side, his commitment to supporting you unyielding, you felt the flicker of hope reignite within your weary soul.

As you drifted off to sleep, cradled in Spencer's embrace, you held onto that hope tightly, trusting that love would guide you through the darkness and lead you towards a brighter tomorrow.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid smut

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your-local-simp-writers · 10 months

Text

Midnight Serenade

Word Count: 662

Warnings: None

Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The night was dark and heavy with fatigue as Hobie made his way home. The weight of the world, or in his case, the weight of his heroic responsibilities, bore down on him. It had been a long day of patrolling the streets and fighting crime.

As he entered the quiet sanctuary of his apartment, his eyes fell upon you, peacefully engrossed in your own world. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated your face as you lay on the bed, headphones on, lost in a realm of music and digital wonder.

Hobie, ever the blunt and stone-faced individual, couldn't help but feel a warmth in his heart at the sight of you. In that moment, he decided to shed the weight of his alter ego and embrace the simplicity of being himself.

Quickly changing into comfortable clothes, he slipped into the bed beside you. With a mischievous smile on his face, he gently pulled off your headphones, startling you from your reverie. His strong arms encircled you, drawing you close in an unexpected display of affection.

"Oi, love," he said in his charming British accent, his voice laced with a hint of playfulness. "Thought I'd join you in this late-night escapade."

You blinked in surprise, a blush tinting your cheeks at his sudden presence. His directness and stoic nature always had a way of catching you off guard, but you couldn't deny the warmth that spread through your body as he held you close.

"I... I didn't expect you to be here," you stammered, a mixture of confusion and delight in your voice.

Hobie chuckled softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Well, can't resist the company of someone as captivating as you, can I? Besides, I could use a break from all the web-slinging and crime-fighting."

You nestled against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your back. "I'm glad you're here. It's nice to have you by my side."

He tightened his embrace, his voice softening. "You have no idea how much I cherish these moments with you. You bring light to my darkest days."

As he began to braid your hair, his fingers gently working through the strands, you couldn't help but let out a contented sigh.

"Feels nice," you mused, your eyes closing as his touch sent tingles of warmth cascading through your scalp.

Hobie's voice held a hint of a smile. "Glad you think so. I've got a knack for this, you know? Perhaps I missed my calling as a hairstylist."

You chuckled, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. "Well, I'm glad you're using your skills on me."

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the braid took shape, the rhythm of his fingers soothing both your body and mind. With each gentle tug and twist, it felt as though he was weaving a bond between the two of you—something tangible and irreplaceable.

Once he finished, Hobie leaned back, admiring his handiwork with a small smirk. "There you go, love. Now you've got a proper crown fit for a queen."

You reached up to touch the braid, a smile gracing your lips. "Thank you, Hobie. This means a lot to me."

He gave you a tender kiss on the forehead, his voice filled with sincerity. "No need to thank me, love. Anything for you."

As you snuggled against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful state, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of love and contentment. In this moment, Hobie's stoic facade had crumbled, revealing the true depths of his affection for you.

Together, you drifted into a serene slumber, knowing that you were safe and loved in each other's arms. And as the night faded into dawn, the braid in your hair served as a reminder of the unbreakable bond you shared—a symbol of the quiet, heartfelt moments that made your love for each other uniquely beautiful.

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 month

Text

Sweet Nothings

Quinn Hughes:

"As the evening sky turns into a velvet blanket of stars, my breath hitches at the sight of your mesmerizing beauty. The moonlight highlights your stunning features, making you glow like an angel. I yearn to explore your curves, tracing them with my fingers and my lips. Every gentle touch ignites a spark of desire, leaving me longing for more."

Jack Hughes:

"You're the sweetest, most irresistible person I've ever met. Your gorgeous smile radiates like the sun, and your eyes are like starlight in the night sky. Your soft touch and warm embrace make me feel safe, and your loving words fill my heart with joy. You complete me, body and soul, and I can't imagine life without your presence by my side. I love you."

Luke Hughes:

"You're all I can think about. You occupy my every thought. Your warmth and kindness are unlike anything I've ever felt before, and I want to keep discovering more about you every day. I want to take care of you and make you happy, and I want you to return the favor. Together, let's create an atmosphere of love, trust, support, and commitment. There's no limit to how special we can make this connection."

Nico Hischier:

"I could gaze into your eyes forever, never tiring of their beauty. The sound of your voice is like music to my ears, making my heart sing. Your tender touch comforts my soul, as we connect on a deeper level. All I want to do is spend time with you, feeling your presence in every minute. Your essence is a sweet balm to my heart, providing much-needed solace in a chaotic world. I am lost in your warm embrace, finding peace and serenity in your arms."

Timo Meier:

"Your soulful eyes lure me in, just like a siren at sea. The scent of the ocean caresses my face, like a warm summer breeze. As we share an intimate glance, I feel a spark of electricity between us. Your touch is like honey to my soul, sending shivers down my spine. All my worries and troubles melt away, as you take me in."

John Marino:

"You are the most captivating person I've ever seen. I could stare at your face for hours and not get bored. Your smile could brighten the darkest of days. Your presence is like a warm embrace, providing a feeling of comfort and joy."

Kirby Dach:

"Your beautiful face, framed by your silky hair and eyes that sparkle with mischief, is like a masterpiece to behold. I can't help but stare, as I take in every inch of your stunning figure. Every curve, every line, and every feature is like poetry to me. As I gaze upon you and drink you in, all thoughts of the world around me vanish. I can only see you, and I feel completely captivated by you."

Juraj Slafkovsky:

"I could stare into your eyes forever, lost in their depths of beauty. Your soft lips beckon me, like a moth to a flame. As we come together, our bodies meld together, as one. Our bodies are intertwined, a dance of love and desire. With each movement, the waves of passion crash upon us, carrying us away into ecstasy."

Arber Xhekaj:

"You are like a warm ray of sunlight on a cold winter’s day. Your love and affection radiate from within, making me feel warm and safe. As we lie in each other’s arms, I feel my heart beating faster and faster. Our bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly right where they belong. I long for your touch, your love, and your embrace. The world seems to melt away, as we are caught up in the moment. Our bodies connected, our minds intertwined, and our souls bonded."

Cole Caufield:

"Your presence is like a warm blanket, enveloping me with comfort and safety. You make me feel protected and loved, like we're living in our own little world. You have a way of making me feel at peace with the world. My life feels so much better now that you're in it. I want to show you all the affection and love you deserve, and I'm willing to go above and beyond to make you happy. Together we explore new possibilities and create memories that will last a lifetime. There's no limit to what we can achieve together."

Trevor Zegras:

"There's something magical about us. When we're together, it's like we're in our own little world. I feel so safe when I'm in your arms, and no matter what the day holds, I know I can count on you to make me feel loved and appreciated. With you by my side, I could take on anything life throws at us. I'm so glad I found you."

Jamie Drysdale:

"Your smile is as bright as the sun. Your eyes are as mesmerizing as the stars on a clear night sky. Your touch is as soft as a feather, and when we're together, there's no other place I would rather be. I want to cherish every moment with you and make sure to never take our time together for granted. There's nothing else in this world that compares to the feeling of being with you. You complete me."

#quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #nico hischier x reader #timo meier x reader #john marino x reader #kirby dach x reader #juraj slafkovsky x reader #arber xhekaj x reader #cole caufield x reader #trevor zegras x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #nhl

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lampthehealthminister · 16 days

Text

The sun's light reaches even the darkest depths

Synopsis : Aventurine has a vicious snake in his head, but your voice always chases it away.

Warnings : Spoilers for Aventurine's backstory! It's just references, but maybe some people haven't played the quest yet, you never know lol ; Also intrusive thoughts?? Perhaps?? I'm not sure tbh

Genre : Hurt/Comfort??? Sorta??? ; x reader fic

Word count : 1.2k yoohoo

Notes : I haven't written a fic in more than a year... Forgive me if I'm rusty, but I just love this man so much ugh. Might make a part two from reader's pov this time because I've got lots of ideas!! Do give me advice if you think I should improve some stuff!! You can also request something if you like my writing <3

Even when he steps foot in the comfort of his home, the knot settled in his throat does not go away. Worse, when he inhales the smell of spices, it chokes him even more. (He wonders if you thought about him when cooking, and the idea of him lingering on your mind for longer than he should makes him want to cry.) He removes his coat, trying his best to think about something else as he hears your footsteps approaching. (Are you finally going to yell at him and push him away today?)

“Welcome back, ‘rine.”

Luckily, you greet him when he’s still removing his shoes, giving him enough time to build his composure back up. (How could he face you otherwise?) When he stands back up and meets your eyes, he is once again reminded of exactly why he is so drawn to you. (He knows it’s wrong, but he is helpless against it. Like a moth attracted to a flame, he can’t help but want to stay in your light for a little longer still.)

“It’s good to be back home.” (“I missed you.” he wants to say, but he can’t afford getting too attached to you, just like it’s not good for you to get too close to him.)

He wants to take a step forward, wants to fall into your arms and hide away from everyone and everything else ; but his feet are glued in place, and the weight in his chest is heavier than ever. His throat feels dry, his palms are sweaty, and for a split second he worries that you’ll start asking questions, that you’ll worry, that you’ll take his face in your hands and envelop him in your embrace, wrap him in a soft cocoon of gentleness and care and everything else that he doesn’t deserve. (Has the air always been so suffocating?)

He jumps as the sound of an alarm resonates through the air. He watches you scurry off to the kitchen and exhales a sigh of relief. (Did you notice how he almost lost himself just now? Did you see him bare, his soul completely exposed as his own body failed to obey him? Or did he successfully manage to trick you once more, just as he does with everyone else? He doesn’t know what he prefers.) He steps forward, inhaling once more. The scent of a foreign spice tickles his senses, and the name of it sits on the tip of his tongue, present but not fully here, an image and a distant memory.

It’s only at dinner, when he takes a bite of the food you’ve made, (The voice in the back of his head tells him he doesn’t deserve it, but he would hate to see you upset.) that he recognises it, the name shining bright like a lightbulb in his mind, a single piece of thread that he’s managed to get a hold of. He opens his mouth to tell you, but the silence in the room shuts him up. No words fill up the space, and he finds the quiet unsettling, cold, a shiver running down his spine at the thought. But most of all, he is worried about you. Why aren’t you saying anything? You usually tell him all about your day, about the things you’ve seen, about the plans you’ve made with other people, so why is today different? (Can you no longer bear to entertain him now that you’ve seen how ugly he is on the inside? Have you had enough of his theatrics, of his games, of him? He tells himself that he won’t stop you if you leave, but he knows he will always wake up in the morning thinking you’re still by his side.)

He finally dares looking up at you, worried that he’ll find your seat empty. Maybe you were never there to begin with, maybe you’ve already left long ago? Maybe he’s grown so attached to your love that he imagines you greeting him every day, feeding him every day, holding him every day. Maybe the house is so cold because you’re simply no longer there, because he can’t bask in your light anymore. (It’s just what he deserves, so he shouldn’t complain. He’s always been too selfish with you, after all. Always about taking, never about giving, because he can’t afford to show all of his cards, even with you.)

“What are you thinking about, ‘rine?”

Your voice snaps him out of his daze. The first thing that invades his mind is the fact that you’re here. He suddenly feels warm all over, like his heart is being cradled by gentle arms, like his soul is being taken care of by a kind gaze. (Did Kakavasha feel like that, too? Was it when his sister held his hand, when his mother kissed him on the forehead for the first time?) This time, he can’t prevent his real thoughts from tumbling out of his lips.

“You.”

The expression that graces your face rivals even the Mother Goddess’ blessings, he thinks. As if his word was a prayer, you light up even more than before, gently coating him in your warmth. (How did he even manage to find someone like you?) You smile at him so openly, so genuinely, like you’re not afraid to show him what you feel ; and every time, he falls for it, for you, even harder than he should. You reach for his left hand, and he hopes you don’t feel how his pulse is fluttering under his skin, how his heart is racing just by being in your presence. He loves you. Even if it’s dangerous, even if you leave him, even if he hurts you. Right now, he loves you, and it’s as sickening as it’s sweet, sticking to his lungs like golden honey.

That night, he watches as the moon traces a serpentine path of light on your skin. You’re talking to him, keeping him company as he ties all the strings of sleep together slowly. You still hold his hand in yours, and despite having long since removed his gloves, he can’t get enough of your touch. Even now, you look at him in that special way, with that gaze only reserved for him, and yet he doesn’t recognise the emotion that lingers in it. He doesn’t have time to think too much about it either, because exhaustion is dragging him down. Like an anchor, it pulls at his feet, forces him down in the dark even if he hates it. He squeezes your hand tighter, a desperate attempt to stay afloat, but he’s already too far gone in the depths, your image only a distorted reflection above the water. If he doesn’t come back from there, he’ll at least imprint all of the details of your face in his mind one last time.

Even while he sleeps, you don’t let him go. You hold him close, look at the way his features relax. You gaze at him with an adoration he never notices, doesn’t want to see. Words scratch at his walls, make him feel vulnerable, tear him apart from the inside out, so you never use them. You only hold his hand and lead him somewhere else, so that even if he is lost, he doesn’t have to look far to find his way home again.

#aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #star rail aventurine

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chi-chistuff · 2 months

Text

Pairings: Sokka x Reader

Warnings: NONE

In the heart of the Southern Water Tribe, under the luminescent glow of the moon, you found yourself entranced by the tranquility of the night. The gentle lapping of the waves against the icy shore provided a soothing melody as you sat by the edge of the frozen lake, lost in your own thoughts.

Little did you expect that your solitude would be interrupted by the unexpected arrival of none other than Sokka, the renowned warrior of the Southern Water Tribe. With his boomerang slung across his back and a mischievous grin adorning his face, he approached you with an air of confidence that was unmistakably Sokka.

"Hey there, stranger," Sokka greeted you, his voice carrying a warmth that melted away the chill of the night. "Mind if I join you?"

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his presence, your heart skipping a beat as you nodded in response. Sokka settled himself beside you, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity as he took in the serene beauty of the surroundings.

"So, what brings you out here all alone?" Sokka asked, his gaze turning to meet yours.

You found yourself drawn to his easy charm, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence as you opened up about your thoughts and dreams. As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories and laughter, forging a connection that seemed to transcend time and space.

With each passing moment, you discovered new facets of Sokka's personality – his unwavering loyalty to his friends, his boundless courage in the face of adversity, and his innate ability to find humor in even the darkest of situations. And as you basked in the warmth of his company, you couldn't help but feel yourself falling for him, captivated by the depth of his spirit and the strength of his heart.

As the first light of dawn began to paint the sky in hues of pink and gold, Sokka turned to you with a soft smile, his gaze filled with an emotion that mirrored your own.

"Thank you for tonight," he said, his voice gentle yet sincere. "I never expected to meet someone as amazing as you."

And in that moment, as the sun rose over the horizon, you knew that your encounter with Sokka was nothing short of serendipity – a chance meeting that would forever change the course of your destiny.

Together, you watched as the world awakened to a new day, knowing that no matter where life may lead you, the memory of this magical night by the lake would always hold a special place in your heart.

I HAD THIS IS MY NOTES FOR SO LONG AND NOW I POSTED IT

#atla sokka #atla #avatar the last airbender #sokka x reader #Chi-chistuff

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pherelesytsia · 2 years

Text

I may forgive him,

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Pregnant/Reader

Summary: Finding out Thomas has been secretly seeing Grace, Y/N leaves with Charlie.

Warning: Pregnancy, fear, anxiety, Angst, Fluff,

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n:. Requests are open.

Part One Part Two Part Four

Eyes of vigour and the chant of thunder broke the darkness. Hatred swirled, sinister and vicious. The boy folded his hands in front of his chest. The world was motionless. Eyes, otherwise glowing like stars, were as dark as the night reigning beyond the windows. Tears adorned the cheeks, painted in pain, and streamed down the face in torrents.

The youthful glow had died. There was a coldness in his gaze and Thomas rooted into the ground, stood motionless in the middle of the endless corridor, a tunnel whose end was slightly luminous. Gulping, he thought he dreamed. Thomas could not believe his eyes, thought whiskey and rum fooled his senses. A wave of poisoned arrows, dark feathered, pierced through his skin. Hatred and agony clouded his mind. Eyes so similar to his were seething with rage and not even the faint voice, broken like a shield of wood, echoing faintly through the house, could banish dooming clouds announcing a storm.

"Charlie?" Thomas whispered.

Thomas slowed to a halt, trying to read his son, and realised if Charlie held a gun, he would use it against him without batting an eye, forcing him to his knees and making it impossible to take a step. Wide-legged Charlie stood in the doorway. Thomas took slower and shorter steps and thought he could see the blood pumping through the little boy's body. A faint sparkle of pride filled his pained heart. Thomas had often heard from his brothers how his eyes sparkled, how unreadable the Shelby was if he faced the enemy and Thomas saw exactly what his brothers were always talking about in his gaze.

"Charlie?" Thomas repeated, snapping the boy out of his thoughts.

Charlie clenched his hands into fists and stood wide-legged, nearly lost balance, trying to take up the whole doorway to forbid his father to get into the bedroom.

"Go away father, you hurt mum and she is in pain because of you. All because of you, I heard it, Ada and Arthur were talking about it and now mum is going to die because of you." yelled the boy, angered.

Thomas swallowed. His heart ached. He knew pain; it was once his daily companion, a loyal hound, and he remembered the days when he was alone in the shadows shaping into wicked evil faced creatures.

“Go away. You are not my dad anymore. I don’t love you anymore. Go away.” Charlie screamed.

The wave of trillion of arrows pierced the howling wind. Gradually, Thomas walked towards the end of the endless tunnel. He fell like a warrior. Angered, Charlie starred at his father, let him feel the hatred dwelling in the depths of his heart, not regretting his choice of words, would never regret them, hating the man who had dared to find another family.

A voice shattered into tiny splinters broke through the gloomy mist, tearing the dark curtain like a sword, but no answer came.

Colours faded and winter ruled heartless and merciless. His heart ached and Thomas swallowed noticeably. Slowly he arose and went forward, ignoring the words laced with the darkest of poison, an ancient chant killing witches.

"Charlie, what are you talking about? I would never hurt your mum. I love you and mummy." Thomas breathed.

His voice broke. He never showed weakness in front of his son, tried to stay strong, but the façade crumbled like an attacked walls of defence in the midst of war, and a lone tear slid down his cheek.

“You don’t love my sister. You hurt her. I love her. Yes, she is a girl and she will want to play with dumb dolls, yet I love her and I promised mummy I will stay home from kindergarten. I will take care of her. I won´t need your help. You will hurt mummy so go away. We will have a sleepover without you. You are not invited.” Charlie sobbed.

Wider he stood, knowing it must be his father's fault why his mother was in pain and Thomas saw himself, recognised the hateful expression in his gaze and looked down at his son in confusion.

“Charlie,” he said.

"Yes, you did. You are lying. You met another woman. You can´t do that. I'm not looking for another mum either. I already have one and I know I wouldn't find a better one. You have mum and me and my little sister.” Charlie cried out loud and silenced his father harshly.

Thomas gulped.

“You are married to my mum and you have me. Ada said it too. You don't love mum and there was a doctor, and I wanted to cook tea. I listened, I heard it all. And my mum said you can't lie that lying is bad and you are lying.” Charlie continued without reflecting on his words.

He pressed his lips to a fine line and looked his father without fear.

“You can't go to my mummy. You'll hurt her, and I don't want to see her in pain. She was crying. Mummy never cried because of me." Charlie whispered in pain.

Shaking his head, he brushed the tears away from his cheek.

“I heard everything. I am a big boy. I know where babies come from. And I heard everything. You will not hurt my sister. I have to protect her. Go away, you are not going to mummy.” he continued without fear.

The words echoed loudly through the house and a chant of murmur arose from deep slumber. Tears clouded his eyes.

"Charlie, believe me, I would never hurt your mum. And if I promise I won't hurt her, will you allow me to see her? I have to talk to her. Please. Thank you for taking care of mummy, I'm sure you took good care of her, but I have to see her." said Thomas.

His voice was breaking, shattered into tiny splinters. Remorse welled up in his heart. Carefully, Charlie scrutinised his father and pressed his lips to a fine line.

"I don't know. You will hurt my sister and I have to protect her." Charlie said with uncertainty in his voice.

Lovely words destroyed the last wall. Eye grew in horror and words escaped. Forcing a smile Y/N clawed her fingers into the frame of the door, unable to stand on her feet, could no longer listen to the words of mind dulling anger. A soft gasp escaped Y/N, searching for support and pairs of eyes shot open and before Charlie realised what had happened Y/N was in the arms of the man he had tried to banish from the house with harsh words.

His heart was in broken pieces. Her eyes were lifeless, yet they twinkled like fading stars on the horizon. Her shaking fingers slid over the unmade hair of Charlie, crying softly, having heard the words about his father he could no longer forget and clung to the long nightgown.

Nauseated, Y/N couldn’t stay strong and dropped into his arms, resting her aching head on his chest and closed her eyes for a moment, and a faint smile graced her lips as no feminine scent lingered on his clothes. A soft wheeze escaped her and immediately he embraced her body. Thomas tried to stay strong but the last wall of defence grumbled as he witnessed the exhaustion veiling his wife's eyes for more than ten years. He gazed from his wife to his son, clawing his fingers into the long nightgown, and soft soothing words escaped him in hope to heal the wounds he had caused.

"Charlie, could you make mum some tea, please? I'm sure it will do her good. I'll take care of her. You don’t need to fear and if you need any help, then Arthur or Ada will be happy to help." Thomas said.

“No. I not leaving mum and my sister.” Charlie interrupted his father rudely. “You can be glad I allowed you to hug mum.” he continued in a sharp tone, sounded bolder than a man of many glasses.

A faint whisper arose and again the hatred and anger faded away.

“I don´t know if I can trust you.” Charlie breathed.

Thoughtfully, the boy looked at his mother and waited for an answer, wanting to know if he was allowed to go or if he should stay and Charlie was ready to stand between his father and mother, would protect her even if harsh words were spoken.

"Please go, Charlie. The tea you made was the best I have ever tasted in my life. Nothing can happen to me. Your father would never hurt me." Y/N breathed weakly.

“He has hurt you, mum.”, “Yet I love him, Charlie. I know your father for a long time. Arthur called your father, and he came to help me. He feared for my health.” Y/N whispered.

Weakly, Y/N smiled, feeling his fingers slowly letting go of the long material of the flowing dress.

“Promise me, dad you will not make mummy cry. You have to swear,” he said in a stern tone, commanding like a king.

The features softened and the dooming clouds announcing a night full of terror were carried away.

“I promise Charlie. I will help mummy; you don’t have to fear.” Thomas assured softly.

“I trust you and you have to say sorry to my little sister, you made her cry too.”, “I will, Charlie. I will.” Thomas answered, barely audible.

Slowly, Charlie walked away, turning over and over as he did so. Footsteps echoed loudly through the house. Charlie wiped the tears from his cheeks and fixed his eyes over his shoulders as he rushed in great haste along the long corridor.

No sound crossed her lips. Her arms wrapped around his neck. Her feet swung, no longer touching the cold floor. As if she weighed nothing, Thomas carried his wife back into the bedroom they shared, straight towards the unmade bed, and Thomas realised Y/N had slept on his side of the bed. Loving words lessening the pain escaped the man in the dark suit, moved closer to the bed and Thomas lowered her slowly as if he feared his wife would shatter like glass if he wasn't careful enough. The soft gasp escaping Y/N caused his heart to ache in pain. Smiling faintly, he covered her with the blanket but did not dare sit down on the edge of the bed nor to lie down by her side. He clenched his fingers into fists, saw what he had caused as his eyes fell upon the empty suitcase.

Y/N placed her hands on her stomach in a protective gesture. Widened eyes gazed at the pregnant woman and she let him know she was fine.

"I would never dare to betray you.", "You didn't wear your ring." Y/N breathed.

She wanted to believe him, tried to, but her mind told her a different story.

"I lost it. You know I never take it off, never in the past ten years, nearly eleven." Thomas explained.

He bit his lower lip, not wanting to continue. He wondered why she was still in the house they called home and he swallowed, realising he was certainly not the reason she had stayed.

"I will not force you to stay, Thomas. I can leave, you only have to tell me. If you want to leave and start a new life with Grace, then I won't stand in your way but I want you to know that even if you don't want a divorce to ruin your image, I will take the children with me." Y/N said, unable to face her husband.

His lips no longer touched and his striking features paled and aged.

"I didn't cheat on you Y/N. I saw Grace twice.", "You supposedly hugged her and you went to a restaurant." Y/N continued.

"Yes.", "So you admit you saw her, your old flame." Y/N breathed.

"I did, this woman contacted me for almost three months. She called me every hour, twenty times a day. I ignored her, and she contacted a friend, a businessman. I thought it was going to be a meeting. My love, please believe me. I told you about the meeting. You were sick, and I wanted you to come with me, but you couldn’t and Arthur was out of town. When I arrived at the bar, I saw her and before I could do anything she hugged me as if we were old friends," Thomas reported.

Wordlessly, Y/N listened, letting him speak even if the desire welled up to silence him harshly. His right hand twitched, but he did not reach for her hand resting on the barely noticeable bulge.

"Please believe me. I don't know what you've heard, but I am convinced it was something unpleasant. She knew I would be in London today, how she found out, I don’t know but I confronted her and told her to leave me alone and she informed me she had called you too, that she spoke to you about us, but why should I exchange you for someone like her? I have only seen her twice." Thomas reported.

The words weren’t twisted, and relief spread through her heart. She could read the man like an open book, fear rooted in her heart, but then she saw the tears, the pain and knew her husband wasn't lying, telling her a twisted tale.

“And you saw her today?”, “Yes, I told her I don’t love her, that I have a family, a wife I have been married to for almost eleven years," Thomas said.

Agony veiled his striking features.

"I didn't look at her the way I look at you. The day I fell in love with you I forgot about her. I know she must have told you a lot of things and that you read all those letters, but you are the only woman I have slept with, the only woman I carry in my heart." Thomas confessed boldly.

Y/N lost herself in his eyes of blue, unable to tear her glance away from him.

"You, Charlie, all of you are my family, something Grace can never give me." Thomas continued.

Hearts called out. Slowly Thomas slid closer to his wife, found strength and clasped carefully her hand, squeezed it gently.

"Why would I leave my family for a woman like her? She left me when I needed someone and you were there. You were by my side. I have everything I need. I have you and our beautiful children." he breathed.

The words healed her heart and tears veiled her vision.

"I think it's going to be a girl. I hope you don't mind.” she whispered weakly.

His eyes sparkled and he knew she trusted his words.

"Next week I'd like to go into town to buy a pram," Y/N said.

Colour returned and a slight smile spread on his lips kneeling beside the bed and Y/N saw it immediately, knew he had understood the message. Y/N guided his palm nearer to her and placed his hand on her stomach. A tear danced across his features. Thomas felt nothing, no movement, but proudness flowed in every fibre of his body.

"You'll stay?", "I trust you, Tommy." Y/N answered.

His eyes sparkled in screaming colours.

"May I kiss you?", "You are my husband, Tommy and the father of our children, the man I trust the most. You don't need to ask for permission." Y/N said with a faint smile.

Slowly, Thomas rose from the cold ground. The bed sagged beneath his weight. The pain ceased. The lovers were lost, and the stars were shining. Slowly, Thomas settled at his wife's side on the bed, wrapping his arm around her body and she lowered her head on his chest. Lips sealed the promise, and the storm passed and the moon glowed in all its beauty.

TagList

blyanyan fckmini alessandra9792 1-800-coffee millies0bsimp marvelwhoreunfortunately alessandra9792 smailaway summertimedepression alldaysdreamers elliaze mystic-gnome kathrinemelissa tedpicklez daynaelizabethclairereynolds mrkdvidal1989 mycabin13-blog pheitvsx thenattitude faatxma mysticalbouquetwolf-posts mimischaos plutosllama

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gilly-moon · 23 days

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For the angst list! #1 with either pairing or both of you wanna! OwO

ooooo this one was extra spicy drama. still need to edit it but here you go:

1 : “Don’t touch me, you lost that privilege when you let her into our bed.”

When he saw the spirit leaving Pitch’s cave, Jack’s mind went blank. His eyes darted, analyzing, processing the image of Pitch leaning over to place a kiss on the other being’s hand.

Her, Jack thought as the spirit turned. Unbidden arose the memory of Pitch having a child. A marriage. A wife.

The spirit was draped in black like Pitch, dark hair flowing in three thick braids over her back. She smiled, and Pitch smiled back. With a sharp, agonizing pain to his chest, Jack had the thought that they looked good together.

He waited until the spirit left, and Pitch had returned inside. And then he waited a while longer, to calm his breathing and formulate what he was going to say. Snow fell in thick clumps, despite the early warmth of spring pervading the air.

By the time he was floating down into the dark cavern, he still had no plan. He couldn’t even pin down exactly what was getting him so worked up over this.

Pitch greeted him as he always did - his smile softening, his eyes gleaming with a little more gold. Jack tried to respond with a similar air of normalcy, but he was distracted wondering if Pitch’s expression had softened for her, too.

He visited twice more before Jack decided he couldn’t take not knowing anymore. But on his third arrival to Pitch’s lair, he found it eerie and empty.

So of course, he began searching. Rifling through books. Scouring over and under every walkway and bridge. Finding nothing, until he came upon Pitch’s bedroom.

It was sparse, filled with more shadows than furniture or decor. Jack’s staff glowed to illuminate a small portion of the space as he peered around. His stomach did a somersault as he approached the bed, remembering the handful of times Pitch had gathered him close on those dark sheets, showering him with affection.

When he reached out to drag his fingers over the bed, he realized the fabric on top wasn’t just sheets. As he lifted it up, he thought it might be one of Pitch’s robes, but this one was a different material. It was lighter, with sheer layers. It was familiar.

The garment slipped through his fingers. It was hers.

A noise echoed down the corridor behind him.

Jack snatched up his staff. The winds whisked him from the room, carrying him out of the nearest opening to the outside world and far, far away.

“Where are you, Jack?”

“Huh?”

Jack focused himself, looking up at Pitch. They were sat across from each other on one of the walkways, perched on opposite railings. Pitch had crossed his arms and his brow was furrowed. Two weeks had passed since Jack found the robe on his bed.

“You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, and you’re turning my cave into an ice sculpture.” Pitch gestured to Jack’s feet, where frost was spreading rapidly over the stone. “Not to mention the palpable fear I can feel all around you. So, what is it?”

“Nothing,” Jack insisted, gaze dropping to his feet where they were crossed beneath him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“And yet whatever it is worries you a great deal.”

Pitch stood, stepping closer. Jack’s throat constricted.

“If my fear is such a bother to you, I should just go.”

There was a noise of amusement from above him, his only warning before grey fingers were reaching for his chin.

“Really, Jack, you know how delicious your fear is to -”

The fingers brushed Jack’s skin, and he lurched away. Spirals of ice shot out from the tip of his staff.

“Don’t touch me!” Jack shouted. His voice filled the cavern all the way to its darkest depths. Pitch’s eyes went wide, but Jack’s fury hadn’t finished boiling over. “You lost that privilege when you let her into our bed!”

The words were already out there by the time Jack realized what he’d said. Pitch gasped in a soft breath, hands going limp at his sides.

“Jack -”

“Why don’t you shut up, too,” Jack snapped, “just for good measure.”

Our bed. He’d never called it that before.

It wasn’t. It was Pitch’s. This was his cave, his bedroom, his bed. Jack was just a visitor. That much was obvious now.

“You’re drawing ridiculous conclusions from nothing,” Pitch snapped, hands curling at his sides.

“What I saw wasn’t nothing,” Jack shot back. He floated beside the walkway, ice crystals forming in the air all around him.

“I know exactly what you saw.”

Shadows lurched up the walls, writhing over stone as they swallowed up several shafts of light.

“Did you think you were being discreet when you ransacked my home? Because whatever effort you took to hide it was adorably pathetic.”

“Shut up.”

“I was planning to let it slide. But now you come here to yell at me like a child, and accuse me of - what, exactly? Tell me, Jack. I’m so eager to know what kind of relationship you think we have, that makes you feel you have the right to act this way.”

Jack’s heart dropped to his stomach, cold and cracked. Winds swirled around him, fast enough to rip at his hoodie and Pitch’s robe. Everything was wrong. But there was no taking back what either of them had said.

“Fuck you, Pitch.”

The winds gathered under him and shot him towards the only skylight not yet covered in darkness. Shadows raced over the ceiling, but he was faster. He burst out into the daylight and didn’t stop until he was in the clouds.

Snow filled each cloud that he passed through, droplets of ice scraping down his cheeks. As he flew, his mind grew empty until all that remained was the sickening image of grey lips pressed to a hand that wasn’t his own.

#oh the boys are fightinnggg #blackice #my writing #rotg

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bipstargirl · 8 months

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❝Echoes, Shadows and Resolutions❞

feel free to request any headcanon here 🠒 headcanons list ★ forgive any mistakes, English is not my native language, and this is so metaphorical, I'm not sure if you'll like or understand the meaning, but still, enjoy, my loves ♡

Amber was bombarding her phone with messages once again, probably for the hundredth time in half an hour. You had ignored her calls and messages all day long; you were hurt and needed some space for yourself. But of course, she didn't like that at all – she never did. You knew you should reply to her, provide explanations, or perhaps thousands of apologies. After all, the blame was all yours, always had been and always would be, or at least that's what she made it seem like. But dealing with her now was tiresome, like wasting words that would fall into the abyss of her mind without even being thought through and rationalized. It was like playing a soft melody in a noisy environment, where the tune gets lost in the chaotic noise – what's the point if, when carried by inertia, it loses its purpose of being appreciated? You immersed yourself in your work, desperately seeking temporary salvation, an escape from the shadows that threatened to engulf you. Each typed key was a blow against your own pain, an attempt to overpower the emotional cacophony surrounding you. Yet, even in the refuge of concentration, her memory lingered, hovering like an invisible ghost, a presence refusing to completely fade away.

The guilt, always finding shelter in the darkest corners of your heart, weighed like an anchor dragging you to the depths of the ocean of sadness. The words you should have said, the actions you should have taken, all turned into ghosts that now danced around you, whispering endless laments and questions. The pain of knowing that the disconnect between you was growing like an irreparable crack in the glass of what once was love had transformed into a silent whisper echoing within the walls of your being.

"To argue; to dispute; to quarrel; to misunderstand" – different words with similar meanings that, in a general context, describe the act of defending an opinion contrary to another, often associated with feelings of revolt. So simple, words that students occasionally encounter in the dictionary, words we frequently use when reading news or when nosy old ladies tell you about a scandal involving your neighbors while you're not at home – such simple words, words that are also actions and attitudes. When our actions are not thought through with humanity, they hurt like a silver dagger to others. Any action can become torturous, even a small one. It wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last, that you and Amber argued. Of course not, it was persistent, like removing a sticker from a jar or, more poetically, like the moth that dances around the light – your soul is drawn to it but also burned by the intensities of persistence. But at some point, in a split second between the narrow hands of the clock, you grew weary, how could you not?

Amber was paranoid, suspicious, perhaps confused…

She was also a star, bright and fiery, your star obscured by thick mist, clarity fading into the confusion of suspicion, leaving the mind at the mercy of shadows, but perfect, so perfect. And you were imperfect, not enough, like an unfinished painting where flawed strokes reveal the beauty of imperfection – that's why she constantly accused you of major "mistakes."

And you, being imperfect, in your tormented mind, it was more than logical that you were betraying her, even though she loved you. You didn't deserve her trust, and that's why in the darkness of the night, while tired bodies rested and melancholic minds surrendered to the flow of memories, darkness provided a space for words as sharp as a silver dagger to be thrown at you, freely and harshly piercing the labyrinth of your heart.

"I can't believe this! Do you really think you can fool me? I saw the messages, saw the evidence. You're cheating on me!"

"Amber, stop acting like everything is true. There's no cheating happening here."

"How dare you deny it? I read the words, saw the proof. You're deceiving me behind my back!"

"This is a misunderstanding, Amber. Things aren't what they seem."

"Don't give me your flimsy excuses. I never thought you were capable of this. You're a liar and a traitor."

"I'm not a traitor. I don't know how you came to this conclusion, but you're completely wrong."

"Wrong? There's no mistake here. You're cheating on me, and you thought you could get away with it."

"I'm trying to be honest here, but you're being irrational and don't want to hear the truth."

"The truth? The truth is, you're stabbing me in the back and trying to manipulate me now."

"Manipulate? You're acting impulsively and not willing to consider the possibility that there's more to this."

"I don't want to hear anything else coming from your lying mouth. You've destroyed everything."

"I won't accept this false accusation. I refuse to be vilified for something I didn't do."

"Save me from your theatrics. You're a traitor, and there's nothing you can say or do to change that."

"I won't keep trying to explain to someone who's so closed off in her distorted view. I really need time, and so do you."

"Get out! Get out of my life and never talk to me again. You're not worthy of my time."

You knew when you left for the library, walking hastily and light-footed through the damp streets, surrounded by the scent of freshly ground coffee, that she would still come after you, calling and being like a pebble in your shoe. Even as you tried to ignore and continue walking, at some point, she became painful and distressing, making you stop to remove her. As exhausting as it was, you still cared for her; after all, she was your girlfriend, your love, your golden light at the end of the day. And she loved you; think about all she had done for you. Why leave her alone and even more desperate? Yes, she said terrible things, did terrible things, she was completely unstable. But now, you had restored your peace and tranquility with the completion of your work, at least for now. So why not stop being a selfish, petty person and explain things to her? After all, it was your fault. Why didn't you listen to her? Why didn't you apologize and resolve this? Just wait an hour, wait for the hands of the clock to roll again, for your mind to sort itself out once more.

The clock of circumstances advanced with heavy steps, like a meticulous clockmaker etching marks on the fabric of time. An hour passed like a calm river, its waters carrying away the waves of indecision and doubt that filled the space between you and Amber. The echo of your thoughts resonated within the walls of your mind, like a chorus of restless voices.

Then, like a lone star twinkling in the darkness of the night sky, you felt the urgency to try once more. The phone became a magical artifact, a portal to a realm of possibilities. With trembling fingers, as if tracing a seal that could unlock the doors to the depths of the unknown, you dialed the numbers.

And then, the waiting ended. The sound of the ringing phone echoed like a call through the mists of uncertainty. Each ring was like a drumbeat in time with your anxiety, a prelude to the imminent encounter with destiny. The tension in the air was palpable, like a thread of electricity connecting

you and Amber, each vibration amplifying the anticipation that filled the room.

Finally, her voice emerged from the other end of the line, like an echo from a hidden place deep within the forest. It was a sound that carried with it shared memories, the good and the bad moments that now seemed to teeter on the balance of uncertainty. Her words were a distant echo resonating in the cavern of your emotions, creating a painfully beautiful symphony.

"Amber," you said. "I'm sorry about what happened. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"Yeah, right," she said. "You're just sorry you got caught."

"No, I'm serious," you said. "I just needed some time to think."

"Well, you had your time," she said. "Now come back home."

In the twilight of reconciliation, like two stars emerging from the veil of night, you and Amber finally agreed to return to the abode of tranquility. Home became a symbol of refuge, an oasis where emotional storms could rest and calm down. It was as if you were about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, exploring the hidden caves of the human heart.

The hours slid by like sand flowing through an hourglass, each moment a grain of possibility. The conversation that unfolded was a symphony of words and silences, like an intricate dance of intertwining souls. The unspoken words were like rays of sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains, revealing truths that had been hidden in the shadows.

Apologies were like keys that unlocked the doors to your hearts, releasing the guilt and anguish that had accumulated. Each word of remorse was a raindrop falling onto the dry soil of the relationship, nurturing the seed of mutual understanding. You were like lost travelers who had finally found their way back home, guided by the beacon of reconciliation.

The promise to improve communication was like a gentle breeze sweeping through the dry leaves of autumn, carrying away the remnants of the past and preparing the ground for new growth. It was like a sacred vow etched in the stars, to be more truthful with yourselves and each other. You were mapping emotional territories, where vulnerability and authenticity would be the compasses guiding you.

It wasn't an easy journey, but you and Amber navigated the treacherous waters of resolution. The road to reconciliation was strewn with sharp stones and treacherous currents, but you moved forward hand in hand, like fearless adventurers exploring the depths of the human heart. The winds of change whispered promises of renewal, yet also warned of the fragility of the achieved balance.

And yet, even as the anchors of harmony were being secured, there was a shadow, a dark cloud of uncertainty on the horizon. You felt it, like an unwavering clock, reminding you that the path to redemption was paved with unexpected challenges. The past "mistakes" were not isolated incidents; they were question marks lingering above you, waiting for the right moment to trigger a new cycle of turmoil.

Thus, even as the light of reconciliation shone, you couldn't ignore the shadows dancing in the corners of the future. It was as if reconciliation itself were a fragile shell, surrounded by the tumultuous ocean of uncertain destiny. The commitment to be more honest with each other was there, but you knew that the challenge of keeping that promise would be an ongoing battle against the tides of time and circumstances.

#scream fanfic #scream imagine #scream movies #scream x reader #scream x yn #scream 1996 #scream #scream headcanons #scream 2022 #scream franchise #amber freeman #amber freeman x female reader #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman x y/n #amber freeman imagine #amber freeman angst #scream one shot #scream oneshot #scream angst

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neontokyoo · 11 months

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Dancing in the Shadows

I'm so down bad for this man, it makes my anatomy and physiology class almost impossible. . .🤭

Pairing: Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

Genre: ???

Warnings: Mild violence, suggestive content?

Warnings: Mild violence, suggestive content???

You gazed out of the window of the Port Mafia headquarters, your mind lost in a sea of thoughts. The city lights glittered in the distance, casting an eerie glow on the night. As a member of the infamous Port Mafia, you were no stranger to the dark and dangerous world that surrounded you. But amidst the chaos, there was one person who managed to capture your attention and stir emotions within you: Nakahara Chuuya.

His orange hair, enigmatic aura, and unparalleled strength had always fascinated you. You admired him from a distance, observing his unwavering loyalty to the Mafia, his fierce determination, and his unwavering presence in the criminal underworld. But your admiration had evolved into something deeper—a yearning for a connection that surpassed the boundaries of their shared organization.

It was on a moonlit night that fate granted you an opportunity. The Port Mafia received information about a rival gang's secret meeting, and Chuuya, being one of their most formidable operatives, was assigned to infiltrate it. Sensing a chance to be closer to him, you volunteered to accompany him on this dangerous mission.

The meeting took place in a hidden warehouse, shrouded in darkness. As you stood side by side with Chuuya, anticipation coursed through your veins. The moon cast a silvery glow, revealing the secrets and shadows that danced around you.

You stole glances at him, his gaze focused and determined, his hat casting a shadow over his striking features. The air crackled with tension, the weight of the mission pressing against your chest. In that moment, you knew that you would follow him anywhere, even into the depths of darkness.

The door creaked open, revealing the rival gang members gathered inside. Chuuya stepped forward, his voice resonating with authority as he prepared to confront them.

The confrontation escalated swiftly, the atmosphere charged with anticipation and danger. You fought alongside Chuuya, your skills harmonizing with his, creating a symphony of destruction and chaos. His ability and your own complimented each other perfectly, leading you to victory against the rival gang, leaving them defeated and scattered.

As the dust settled, you found yourselves alone amidst the wreckage, the moon shining down as a witness to your triumph. Chuuya turned to face you, his expression softening as he took in your battle-worn appearance.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, genuine concern lacing his words.

You shook your head, unable to find your voice, but your eyes spoke volumes. The adrenaline still coursed through your veins, and in the aftermath of the battle, you found solace in the presence of Chuuya, the man who had captivated your heart.

Without a word, Chuuya closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently touch your cheek. His touch was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a tender and passionate kiss—a silent confession of desires that had remained hidden for far too long.

In that stolen moment, time seemed to freeze, the world around you fading away. The kiss deepened, intensifying the connection that had silently grown between you both. Chuuya's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, as if he wanted to etch this moment into eternity.

When the kiss finally ended, you opened your eyes to meet Chuuya's gaze, his grey eyes filled with a mixture of affection and longing. The unspoken bond between you had finally been acknowledged, and you knew that this was just the beginning—a journey where redemption and love would intertwine in the darkest corners of the underworld.

As you both made your way back to the Port Mafia headquarters, hand in hand, you couldn't help but feel that the moon above had transformed into a beacon of hope, promising a future where love and loyalty would guide you through the shadows.

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anxiouspineapple99 · 11 months

Text

You Hold the Stars and My Heart

Summary: Rex is fairly certain you hung the stars. He is smitten and is going to tell you exactly how he feels. Inspired by the lyrics from the song Stars by Skillet.

Pairing: Rex x GN!Reader

Word Count: 888

Warnings: “it’s so fluffy!”

Song: Stars - Skillet

A/N: Me: I have so many wips. I should work on those.

Also me: I HAVE THIS IDEA I MUST DOCUMENT IMMEDIATELY AT 11:30PM

I was a little torn on this one. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to have this be Rex or Fives. Went with Rex because when I started writing it just felt more like him for some reason. Also I’ve not written Rex yet and it was fun to switch it up, since I have a Fives fic I am working on already. Also this was NOT proofread. Literally on night 3 of insomnia and I just word vomited into a doc and then posted.

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The deepest depths, the darkest nights; Can’t separate, can’t keep me from your sight

Another mission. Another nightfall where Rex was on the battlefield, surrounded by fear, pain, and death. And all he could think about was you in this brief moment of calm. He closed his eyes and you were in his sight once again, even if only in his mind’s eye. Your smile, so tender and bright. You shone like the twin suns of Tatooine. That same smile made your eyes sparkle like the sun reflecting off the waters of Naboo. And in this darkness and the depths of his sadness, thinking, dreaming of you and your incandescent beauty kept him going. Because he would come home to you.

I get so lost, forget my way; but still you love and you don’t forget my name

Just a number. Cannon fodder. That’s what he’d been trained to believe. Follow orders. Be a good soldier. Maybe you’ll live to fight another day. But you? You’d remembered his name. He’d only told you once. It happened when you’d accidentally bumped into him in that hole in the wall cafe on Coruscant. Spilled his caf everywhere. You apologized, flustered and positively breathtaking, according to him. “I’m so sorry. Let me buy you a new caf,” you paused and glanced at his cup looking for his name. “Rex. My name is Rex.” “Of course, Rex. I like that by the way.” He couldn’t hide the surprised grin that overtook his face. The next time he saw you in that same cafe, you greeted him. By name. He’d only told you once. Several rotations had passed. And here you were smiling and calling his name. He didn’t think he’d ever loved the sound of his name as much as he did when you said it that day. He still felt that way. When he loses his way, doubts himself, feels expendable, like nothing more than a number, all you have to do is say his name and it brings him back. He kept coming back after that day. He wanted to see you again. Little did he know you were doing the same.

You never forgot his name, and you never will. You promised him that.

If you can hold the stars in place you can hold my heart the same

He’d finally gathered the courage to ask you out. The two of you lost track of time and it was late when he escorted you back to your apartment. You’d gone on a long ramble about loving the night and the stars as you walked hand in hand. He was certain you’d hung the stars, absolutely no questions asked. Right there on that first date he wanted to give you his heart. Instead he left you with a sweet first kiss. He knew that night he would give you his heart completely eventually.

Whenever I fall away whenever I start to break

You were his safety when he broke for his lost brothers. When he was tired of the war. When he was tired. You held him, imbuing your love through your touch. You let him break. You let him feel. You let him release everything he’d held in for the days, weeks, months he was away from you. Even when he pulled away, you were patient. You waited for him to find his way back, because he always did. And he apologized. You welcomed him back every time with open arms and an abundance of kisses.

If you can calm the raging sea you can calm the storm in me

You were his refuge. You calmed every storm that raged within him. Every nightmare that left him drenched in sweat or the night terrors that had him thrashing and screaming the names of his brothers, you were there. You held him. Your soft whispers, gentle strokes of his buzzed blonde hair, rubbing his arms, his back until he settled back to sleep or he woke up, they all grounded him. You didn’t know it but he remembered every time. The first time he was so worried he’d scared you away. When you reached for him instead, he collapsed into your arms, knowing he was finally safe.

So here I am lifting up my heart to the one who holds the stars

And now, he’s finally home. Rex is standing at the door, bucket tucked under his arm and rehearsing the words before punching the door activation pad. You’re surprised. He wasn’t due home for another few rotations. You can’t stop the happy tears as you run to him and leap into his arms. You pepper his face with the kisses he has so desperately missed and he laughs. “Mesh’la,” he pauses for only a heartbeat, pulling you tighter into his arms, “I’ve missed you. My cyar’ika, my sweet, my everything. Have I ever told you I’m positive you hold the stars in the sky?” You press your forehead to his, crinkling your nose as you smile the most sincerely since he was home last. He closes his eyes and breathes you in before continuing, “I love you.” You pull back shocked, he’d never said it before. Now he’s here, lifting his heart to you, the one he believes holds the stars. “Rex,” you sigh dreamily, “I love you too.”

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