#can we get one of those for the meadows as well?

[waitimcomingtoo]

Lead Me To The Garden

pairing: Peeta Mellark x best friend!reader

Synopsis: Peeta kisses you before going into the Games but then has an onscreen romance with another girl

“Who do you think it’ll be this year?”

Peeta didn’t look up from the dough he was kneading as he thought about your question. Reaping day always brought a lot of anxiety for the two of you and Peeta typically distracted himself by baking. In a similar fashion, you liked to distract yourself by hanging around the bakery and watching Peeta.

“I don’t know. Maybe one of my brothers.” He said finally.

“Don’t even joke. I better never hear “Mellark” out of that crazy sparkly lady’s mouth.”

“I told you, she’s not crazy. That’s just how people dress in the Capital.” Peeta chuckled and held his hand out. You put some flour into his hand and he slapped in onto his dough.

“I don’t care how much money you have. Nobody should dress like that. How does she even sit in those dresses?” You wondered and took a bite of one of the muffins he had made. You hopped up on the counter top and let your legs swing as you watched him put his bread into the oven.

“What would you wear? If you had Capital money?” He asked as he wiped his hands on his apron.

“A yellow sweater.” You said with a sheepish smile.

“What? That’s it?” Peeta chuckled and leaned on the counter that you were sitting on, boxing you between his arms.

“Don’t laugh.” You gasped playfully. “You can dye cloth but not wool. At least not in this district. And you definitely can’t get any color as yellow as the dandelions that grow behind my house. So I would buy a nice, warm, yellow sweater. The kind with the fancy pattern that looks like a braid. It would be the first thing I own that’s pretty. And that’s new. I would be the first person to wear it.”

“If I had any money, I’d buy you one.” Peeta said with a soft smile.

“Really? You wouldn’t spend your money on yeast or milk?” You teased him.

“Baking isn’t my whole life, you know. I like other things too.” He said and leaned in a little. You inhaled his scent and could smell the baked goods he’d been baking all day on his skin. It was mixed with the scent that was just distinctly Peeta, a scent you had grown to associate with home.

“Like what?” You asked as you leaned in as well. Peeta’s eyes dropped to your lips for a second before he reminded himself that best friends weren’t supposed to think about each other that way.

“Stealing food from you.” He said to cover up his fondness and took the muffin from you hand. He held eye contact with you as he took a bite of the muffin which made you laugh and smack his arm.

“You’re really good at it.” You humored him.

“Thank you. I try to be.” He said and hopped up on the counter beside you. He handed the muffin back to you and you mouthed “thank you” before taking another bite.

“So what would you really buy?” You asked once you swallowed.

“I’d buy a house.” He said without having to think about it.

“Really? But you have a house.”

“I know. But I want my own house. With a nice oven and a book shelf for your books for when you come over. And it would be nice and quiet inside. And I’d have a garden so I never had to go to the market if I found a new recipe I wanted to try.” Peeta said as he traced the outline of a carnation on your leg. You slipped your arm through his and ran your fingers up and down it in the way he once told you his mom did when he was a little boy.

“That sounds really nice.” You said quietly. He looked into your eyes and smiled softly.

“You could live there too.” He told you.

“Why? So I could take care of the garden for you?” You teased.

“So we could be together everyday.” He said, making your laughter stop. You didn’t realize he was being serious and felt guilty for making a joke. You rested your head on his shoulder and continued to run your fingernails up and down his arm.

“That would be nice.” You agreed. “We could get a little house by the meadow. We could decorate it the way we wanted, like with your drawings and paintings. And there would never be shouting because we’d always talk to each other with love.”

“I think we’d be really happy there.” Peeta said as he lifted his head off of yours to look at you. You kept your head on his shoulder and stared straight ahead.

“But what if they call my name later?” You said quietly.

“They won’t. There’s dozens of girls in the district. They won’t call you.”

“What if they call you?”

“Theres even more boys in the district. And if they did call me, one of my brothers would probably volunteer.” Peeta shrugged but you could tell he didn’t believe himself.

You sat in silence for a little longer until his bread was ready. He took it out and brought it outside while you grabbed a blanket. You ate out on the grass in comfortably silence as you stared out at the mountains. A horn soon sounded in the air, signaling that it was time to go. You walked to town together and saw girls and boys getting into their respective lines.

“See you after?” You asked him with a nervous smile. Peeta nodded and pulled you into a tight hug. He kissed the side of your head before joining the rest of the boys. You got your finger pricked and joined the girls in a massive group that faced that stage. A younger girl from distract was called first and her sister immediately volunteered to go in for her. Your heart was finally started to calm down when you heard the worst two words you could possibly imagine being said into the microphone.

“Peeta Mellark.” Effie said with a poised smile. You’d never know she was giving s death sentence by the tone in her voice.

You froze as the crowd was swept with shocked murmurs and people looking at you. Your head was stiff as your eyes slowly followed Peeta emerging from the crowd and walking on stage. He was just as catatonic as you were on that stage and kept his eyes low. He shook hands with the girl who had been picked and was led backstage which was when you started screaming. You pushed through the crowd and ran towards the stage but were caught by two Peacekeepers. You thought you were about to be executed but they actually brought into the back to where Peeta had gone. You passed his brothers and parents in the hallway before getting shoved into a room. Peeta was inside with red eyes and a pale face.

“Peeta.” You choked out and threw your arms around him. Peeta hugged you as tight as he could without hurting you and buried his face in your shoulder. You stroked his hair and whispered comforting words in his ear until he calmed down.

“I’m so sorry.” You said into his ear.

“It’s okay.” He sniffled and pulled out of the hug. You stared into his teary eyes for a second before grabbing his hands.

“We can run. We can sneak out of here and head to the woods and just run.” You whispered.

“We can’t. They’ll catch me and kill you first trying.” He shook his head sadly.

“But we have to do something. They can’t do this to you. They can’t take you away.” You urged. Peeta put a hand on your face and wiped your tear with his thumb.

“There’s nothing we can do.” He whispered. You nodded your head and knew there was no use spending the little time you had left trying to come up with a plan that would never work.

“I guess you’re right. So I’ll see you when you come back, okay?” You said and cupped his face.

“Oh, honey.” He smiled sadly. “I’m not coming home.”

“Shh.” You covered his mouth. “Yes you are. You’re gonna come home to me and we’re gonna build the house with the garden like we said we would.”

“There’s never going to be a garden. I’m gonna die in there.” Peeta choked up so you pulled him back into a hug.

“No you’re not. You’re not gonna die. I won’t let you.” You promised him as you stroked his hair to calm him down.

“Our district can barely afford to feed themselves. We have no money for sponsorships. And I have no skills outside of the bakery. I can’t hunt or protect myself. I’ve never even killed an animal. I’m gonna die in there.” Peeta cried into your shoulder.

“Shhh. Don’t say that. You can still win. Maybe a miracle will happen.” You said but even you didn’t believe it. A Peacekeeper then pounded on the door to signal that your time was almost up. You froze in Peeta’s arms before gripping him tighter. Peeta pulled away suddenly and cupped your face in his hands.

“I need to tell you something.” He said hastily.

“What is it?” You worried when you saw the panic in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you. I always have been. Since we were kids.”

“Peeta, what?“ You whispered and wrapped your hands around his wrists.

“I have always loved you. I’m sorry it took me until now to tell you. I wish I told you when I first felt it. But I needed you to know before I left.” He said as he stared into your eyes. You were speechless as you stared back but before you could say anything, a Peacekeeper burst in the door. He grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room but you just yanked your arm away. You threw your arms around Peeta and kissed him for as long as you could before you were pulled away by the Peacekeeper.

“Now you have to come home.” You said to him as you struggled against the Peacekeeper trying to pull you out of the room. Peeta grabbed your hand and held it as long as he could until the Peacekeeper picked you up.

“I love you!” Peeta shouted after you with his hand still outstretched.

“I’ll wait for you!” You shouted back as you were carried out of the room.

You watched the broadcast everyday with your eyes peeled for any glimpse of Peeta. You were shocked to see him on fire in the tribute parade and even more surprised at the sight of him in a suit for his interview with Cesar Flickerman. You’d only ever seen Peeta in colorless, wrinkled, cotton clothes from your district which was a sharp contrast to the shiny black suit adorned with sparkly red flames on the sleeve. You smiled shyly as if he were right in front of you and tried to touch the projection of the broadcast but your fingers just went through. Peeta was surprisingly charming in his interview and it made your heart yearn for your best friend. You missed spending the day with him and him making you laugh in person so this was a nice substitution.

“Is there anyone special at home?” Cesar asked Peeta. Peeta smiled shyly and looked into the camera, making you feel like he was looking directly at you.

“Actually, yes. There is a special girl from home that I’ve loved for what feels like my entire life.” Peeta said with a bashful smile. You grinned and clasped your hands under your chin as you watched him talk about you.

“Well that’s great. If you win the games, she’ll have to go out with you.” Cesar said and patted his shoulder.

“Unfortunately winning the games isn’t going to help me.” Peeta said with a sad smile.

“Oh no? Why not?” Cesar asked him.

“Because she came here with me.” Peeta answered.

Your stomach dropped. Your jaw dropped. Your felt like you were going to be sick. He wasn’t talking about you. He was talking about the girl he got reaped with. You turned away from the broadcast and held yourself in your arms as you ran to your room. You slammed your door before throwing yourself on your bed. You cried yourself to sleep and when you woke up, you realized you had missed the start of the games. You lingered around areas that were broadcasting the games to keep an eye on Peeta. Your anxiety was at an all time high day in and day out as you prayed he’d live to see another day. It was a few days in that he got cut with a sword by one of the boys from district one. You cried yourself to sleep again that night since Peeta wasn’t shown on camera for a while after that. Finally, you heard from a girl in town that Peeta had been found by the lake by the girl from your district. You ran home as fast as you could and turned on the broadcast right in time to see him kissing Katniss. You let out a shocked squeak and quickly turned the games off. You did your best to avoid any information about the games after that but the romance between Katniss and Peeta was all anyone in your district could talk about. It was rare that people from your district lasted this long in the games, let alone two of them, so you couldn’t blame people for talking about it. To add to that, the romance was something that had never been seen in the games before and made for very entertaining television for every single person in your district besides you. You were rooting for Peeta, of course, but you could not bear to watch him cuddling with another girl as he fought for his life.

Finally, the last day came. You watched Peeta and Katniss win after nearly killing themselves in front of the world so that they didn’t have to kill each other. You felt your anxiety deplete for the first time in weeks when Peeta put down the berries. You didn’t even care that he was hugging another girl after nearly killing himself so that he didn’t have to lose her because it meant that he was coming home. He was finally coming home.

On the day the winners were set to return home, you waited in the crowd beside Gale Hawthorn, a boy from your district, and Katniss’s little sister. You and Gale were eyeing each other curiously and had no idea that you were in the same boat. Peeta and Katniss were brought out on stage and you felt tears come to your eyes the second you saw Peeta. You clapped for him like everyone else in the crowd but froze when you noticed that he was holding her hand. Peeta was scanning the crowd for you and when he finally spotted you, he dropped Katniss’s hand and waved to you. You weakly waved back but couldn’t shake the mixed emotions brewing inside you. You were beyond relieved and grateful that he was home safe. But that didn’t mean it didn’t deeply hurt you to watch him with another girl after he told you that he loved you. You and Peeta stared at each other from your places on the stage and the crowd and both began to cry without relaxing it. You wiped your face and put on a smile for him despite the pain you were feeling inside.

After Peeta and Katniss gave their speeches, the crowd dispersed and you followed Peeta’s brothers back to his house. You bounced your leg as you sat at their kitchen table and waited for Peeta to come home. Finally, the door opened and he walked inside. He was dressed in fancy Capital clothing but had the same old smile that you knew so well. You watched him hug his mother first, then father. His brothers hugged him all at once and patted his back or rubbed his hair, touching him in any way they could.

Then, he looked at you.

Peeta looked startled to see you at first but his eyes immediately softened. You stood up from your seat and your legs felt like jelly as you slowly walked towards him. His eyes were brimmed with tears and he could not believe you had come to see him after what he made you watch him do in the games. You were hurt and confused by his actions but you put on a brave face for him now that he was home.

“You’re here?” He asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

“Of course I’m here. You’re here.”

“I thought you’d be mad.” He said in a weak voice. He was looking at you as if he was expecting a lecture or a blow out fight, but that’s not what you came for.

“I still had to see you.” You said simply.

Peeta gulped when you didn’t deny that you were mad but nodded his head.

“So where’s Katniss?” You asked him with fake politeness.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “With her family, probably.”

“Oh.” You nodded and an awkward silence fell between you. His family exchanged looks and Peeta was fully aware of it.

“Do you think we could talk? Just the two of us?” He asked hopefully. You nodded your head and he lead you to his bedroom and shut the door behind him. A black box on his dresser caught your eye as you sat down on his bed. He noticed it too and went over to it to open it up. When he turned around, he had a soft yellow knit sweater in his hands that made your jaw drop.

“I, uh, I brought you this from the Capital.” Peeta said as a shy blush covered his face.

“You found a yellow sweater?” You gasped and touched the sweater with gentle hands as if you were afraid your damage it. You’d never seen clothes that color in person before and it was even better than you imagined.

“I tried to but I never found one like the one you described. So I asked them to make it for me. They made four of them, actually. They can just do that there. They know nothing about want.” Peeta laughed shortly but neither of you found it funny.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you.” You smiled gratefully and took the sweater. The fact that he had remembered the sweater you told him about despite everything he had just gone through. You felt guilty for being mad at him now that he had given you the sweater and realized you hadn’t even hugged him yet. You folded the sweater and left it on his bed before standing up. Peeta tensed up and wasn’t sure what you were about to do. You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around him, to which he immediately responded to and hugged you back. He instantly broke down and cried in your arms just like he did the day of the Reaping. You stroked his hair and cooed in his ear until he calmed down enough to talk.

“I didn’t think you were ever gonna talk to me again.” He sniffled. You pressed your cheek against his blonde hair and took in his scent for the first time in weeks. Underneath the expensive cologne the Capital had dawned him in, you could still smell Peeta.

“Of course I’ll still talk to you. I’m sorry I was so cold to you. I’m just confused.” You admitted as you pulled out of the hug.

“I know.” Peeta nodded. “And you have every reason to be. I told you I loved you and then I professed my love to another girl with the whole world watching. If the roles were reversed, I’d be devastated. But you have to understand, that wasn’t what it looked like. It was all an act.”

“An act?”

“Yeah. We pretended to be a couple so people would send us food and medicine. I had no way to tell you that it wasn’t real and I’m so sorry about that. You don’t know how badly I wished I could tell you.” Peeta professed as he cupped your face in his hands.

“You were just pretending?” You smiled in surprise.

“Of course I was. What did you think? That it was real?” He laughed softly.

“Well, yeah. That’s what it looked like. I thought guys fell for each other during training and your love got you through the games.”

“Our acting got us through.” He corrected. “Haymitch told us to do it the day we met him. You really thought I fell for another girl that quickly?”

You didn’t share in his smile and shook your head instead. Peeta’s eyes softened and he rubbed his thumb on your cheek.

“I’m sorry, honey. I can’t imagine how confusing that must have been to watch after how we said goodbye.” Peeta said with a sympathetic pout. Your anger towards him melted away as you wrapped your hand around his wrists.

“So you don’t love her?”

“No. I never did. I’ve only ever loved you.” He answered with a soft smile. A smile tugged on your lips as well so you rested your forehead against his. Peeta let go of your face and wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you flushed against him.

“You know, the thought of coming home to you was the only thing that kept me going. I thought about the way you kissed me every night.” Peeta said as he stared into your eye.

“You did?” You smiled shyly at the memory.

“I did.” He nodded. “It was the only thing keeping me warm.”

You stared back into his eyes before tilting your head to the side and connecting his lips in a kiss. He kissed you back slowly and tightened his grip with one hand while moving the other up and down your back. All your anger and confusion melted away into the kiss now that he was yours again. When you pulled away, you stayed in comfortable silence in each others arms.

“Will you come live with me in Victors Village? We can plant our garden like we said.” Peeta asked you.

And so you did. You moved in with him and hung his paintings on the wall to decorate the place. You planted the garden in the backyard and put you in change of the vegetables while Peeta tended the flowers.

But you didn’t feel at home when you walked through the door each day. It was only when Peeta got home everyday with a fresh loaf of bread that the house became home.

#peeta mellark whump #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark fanfic #peeta mellark angst #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark fanfiction #peeta x reader

[cinnamonmilf]

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ rapid eye movement

summary: you meet ellie in a dream

cw: reader mentions she is an english lit major if u don't like it imagine she said it was the major of your choice, flirty friendship but no dating yet (repost from old account)

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

WHY BOYCOTT TLOU PALESTINE LINKS DAILY CLICK

"Before you speak don't move 'cause i don't wanna wakeup"

The bright light was making it hard to keep your eyes open, not a single cloud in sight. It was a beautiful place, there was no denying that. Spring had always been your favorite season: leafy trees, blooming flowers, green grass and sunny days. If spring was a place, this would be it.

You decided to explore it, feeling the soft breeze on your skin. There was a big meadow, with a beautiful forest next to it. The bushy green trees complimenting the flowery field. There was something about this place that was so peaceful. Like you were the only person in the world and everything worked for you, rather than against you.

It would be a shame to leave so soon, so you take a seat in between the flowers and take everything in. How could a place so beautiful exist?

Your tranquil state is quickly interrupted by the sound of the grass and dirt being step on. You turn your head to see who the culprit is: a freckley auburnette with big green eyes and, for lack of a better adjective, an angelic face. You were prepared to snap at whoever had taken the sweet blissful state away from you, but after seeing her there was no way.

She doesn't say a word. She sits next to you. You'd usually not even consider just letting a random stranger make their way to you and sit next to you but this felt different. Saying that you had never met this girl before was an understatement, yet it felt like seeing an old friend.

Her presence was warm and pleasant, you felt safe.

"If you are interrupting my moment shouldn't i at least know your name?" you ask her with a playful grin.

"Fair enough. I'm Ellie." She chuckles.

You tell her your name and she nods in acknowledgement.

"We haven't met, have we?" you inquire.

"Not that I'm aware, but it-"

"It feels like it," you complete her sentence before she can, earning a smile from her.

"Well, l've never seen you around here. Think I'd remember a pretty face like yours," she says will a smirk on her face. You scoff in response, finding her antics amusing.

"It's my first time here," you explain.

"Hmm, when you'd get here?"

"What?" You ask with a puzzled face. And suddenly you realize you can't remember how long you'd been here, let alone how you got here.

Before she can even answer your question you wake up by the obnoxious sound of your alarm.

7:00 a.m.

The dream was uneventful, to say the least, but there's something about it that makes you think about it over and over again throughout the day. It was one of those dreams that bring you unexplainable comfort, like a tender embrace, like feeling like a kid again, like feeling some sense of home in there.

And, well, of course there was Ellie. You kept trying to think if you'd seen her before. Her face plagued your thoughts the most. You'd never seen anyone like her, you'd never met anyone like her.

Something about her made you feel like you could spend hours and hours with her and still crave her company. It was ridiculous, you'd spend time how long with her? Fifteen minutes? And yet, you'd never felt that way with anyone before.

Alas, it was a dream. Just a dream. She was just a beautiful entity your psyche had created. Maybe your brain knew it's what you craved and was cruel enough to give it to you in the dream realm, only to get it taken away.

You realized it was useless to dwell on your dreams, so you ended up putting the thought of Ellie aside and continuing your day.

That was, until nighttime.

The warm ambience surrounded you once again and before you could take it all in, you heard that raspy voice that had been echoing in your mind all day.

"You left yesterday," she said.

"Had to go to school." You giggle at her frowny face. She rolled her eyes at you.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get to ask anything about you." And damn her flirty tone because it made you weak in the knees.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Just tell me about you." She shrugged.

"Well, I'm 21, I'm in college, I like cats, reading, animals in general, l like the color green and...I'm pretty boring, don't have much more to tell you.” You chuckle.

"I like green too."

"Really? That's your take on what i said?" You laugh.

"What was I supposed to say?" She protests with a laugh.

"Whatever," you roll your eyes at her now. "What about you?"

"Well, I'm 22, I'm also in college, I like space, science, comics," she tells you, not really sure what else to add on to the list.

"Space?"

"Yeah, like, planets and stars and Nasa and shit."

"Nice, is that your major?" you inquire further.

"Yeah, astrophysics.."

"Just how smart are you?" You ask. Frankly, surprised by the girl.

"Shut up." She laughs. "What about you?"

"English Lit." You explain.

"Suits you."

"Is that good?"

"Yeah, it's good." She responds with that cocky smile that you have grown to love in a couple minutes.

She had a sort of charm you hadn't really seen elsewhere. It was quite boyish and youthful. She had you a little mesmerized. It was quite stupid, considering you barely knew her, but it was true.

"Do you-" and before she could finish her question, you were once again sucked out of your dream.

You groan in annoyance. Annoyed from being woken up, but mostly by the cold morning air reminding you once again that she wasn't real.

Your brain was creative, you'd give it that. Astrophysics is something you didn't even know you could come up with.

You do the whole thing again. Get up, brush your teeth, go to school, try to pay attention to school even when you all could think of were Ellie's freckles and her peachy lips and her pretty dark lashes and the way she had a bun this time, rather than the half-up half-down hairstyle she had last time. Also, about the fact that she was going to ask you something. What was she going to ask you? You could only hope you'd be blessed tonight once more and be able to dream of her.

And so as the sun came down you prepared yourself to go to sleep.

"Please let me dream of her," you thought to yourself. Pleading your subconscious mind.

You don't know when you finally fell asleep, but you were once again in the forest you had began to grow fond of.

"You have a tendency of leaving mid conversation."

There she was.

You turned to face her, "I don't really control it, you know?" You laugh.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"What were you going to ask me yesterday?" You ask as you softly kick her foot with yours, an affectionate gesture.

She looks down at your feet, pleased by it. Did the smirk ever leave her face or was it permanently there?

"I was asking if you have a boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Ew no."

She laughs at your frowned eyebrows and your disgusted face.

"So you like girls?"

"Why? Are you gonna ask me out?"

You'd later cringe at your own question once awake. How on earth was she supposed to take you out?

"Maybe." She said nonchalantly.

"Right. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Not to worry, all yours."

"You are kind of cocky, do you know that?"

"Oh, come on, you like it."

"Do I, now?" You ask with an incredulous chortle.

"I mean, you do get nervous every time, so l'd say so." She shrugged.

You could immediately feel your cheeks heating up. How could a girl make you lose your composure so easily.

"You are so annoying," you said, to which she just laughed.

-

Night became favorite time of the day from then on. All you did was repeat the cycle everyday: wakeup irritated, hope your day passed as quick as possible (not without reminiscing of your dream all day long), and go to sleep in hopes of dreaming of her again. And again.

And again. Which, to your surprise, you did. Every single night you dreamt of her.

Somehow your dreams went from feeling like minutes with Ellie, to feeling like a hours. In which you talked about everything.

She was the most fascinating person you'd ever encountered. She was smart as hell, funny, kind and of course, had that little cockiness that never really left her side. Which -she was right- you did really like.

Your dreams had always been quite vivid, but you had never appreciated it until now. You were able to really examine her face, hear her voice clearly, see the detail on her tattoo. You'd feel her hand against yours when you walked around the place, or her hair on your fingers as you raked them through her hair when she'd lied on your lap. Nonetheless, it was always accompanied by that soft and warm glow that came with the dream. You could only imagine how much more you’d cherish it all in real life.

And that was the problem. You were completely and absolutely enamored by a girl in a dream. A girl that didn't even exist. But how could you go on with your life knowing you'd never find anyone like her, knowing the perfect girl for you was nowhere to be found?

Life started seeming unappealing to you. Taking class, hanging out with friends, going out. None of it made sense. All you could think of all day long was the night. Every single hour you spend awake seemed like one more hour of you and Ellie being apart. It was eating you alive and you were allowing it.

As dusk arrived you went straight to bed and let yourself fall into a deep slumber.

Your favorite girl was there, waiting for you. You went to hug her. Ellie hugged you back, allowing herself to relax into your arms.

"Missed you," you whispered.

"You say that everyday," she chuckled.

"I miss you everyday," you giggled in response.

She took your hand and the two of you began your stroll. Admiring the trees, the lustrous pond, the flowers. It never got old.

Today you were telling Ellie about school. You mentioned how you'd lost interest lately, not really bothering enough to commit to your studies as you used to.

"Why's that?" She asked.

"I don't know. I don't really care about much lately. Not school, not my friends, not reading." It mildly concerned Ellie, but she didn't say anything.

"You must care about something," she said as she nudged your shoulder.

"I care about being here with you." You shrugged.

"Yeah, but, something else." She insisted.

You shook your head. You didn't want to lie to Ellie. She was the one person you could talk to. And the truth was that she was the only thing to seem worthy of your attention as of late. "I just wanna be here with you all the time."

"It doesn't work like that, doll," she cooed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt a tear trail down your cheek, one that Ellie was quick to gently wipe off with her thumb.

She held you for the rest of your time together.

The next morning you slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the change in lightening. You didn't feel vexed like every other day.

You had a tight knot on your chest that you couldn't explain. A fast-growing affliction that wasn't usually there.

After that night, you never dreamed of Ellie again.

-

It had been three months since you had last seen her. The first few weeks were pure agony.

There was a lot of crying and screaming involved. You were confused and angry and miserable. There was no way to fix it and you didn't even know what you were feeling.

There was no one you could talk to either. What were you supposed to say? That you fell for someone in a dream and now you couldn't deal with the fact that your brain wouldn't let you dream of her anymore?

You kept going to sleep every night hopeful of seeing her again, but it was completely useless. You eventually gave up, realizing it wasn't going to happen.

You were forced to resume your life. You focused yourself on studying, hanging out with your friends, going back to your beloved books. Everything was starting to go back to normal. And yet, there was not a single day where you didn't think of her.

You were headed to your favorite café. Wanting to get some studying done and leaving your apartment for a little bit. As you finally arrived, you settled on your favorite table, put your headphones on and got to work.

Truthfully, your table was a mess. Your computer open, books everywhere and sticky notes all over the place. But it helped you get the work done and that's what mattered most.

After a couple hours you decided to pack everything up and make your way back home, sleep finally sneaking its way up to you.

As you were walking out the door you heard steps hot on your trail.

"Hey, you left this."

Your turned around to see who the familiar voice belonged to. She was handing you a notebook, one you must've missed in the midst of your mess.

As you moved your eyes up to thank the kind stranger, you were met with those two piercing eyes that hadn't been able to leave your mind. The short haired girl with auburn hair, freckles and button nose was standing right in front of you, in the flesh.

It was Ellie.

-

a/n: hi this is a repost from my old account :) i’ll repost part 2 in a couple days and while i write part 3. hopefully it doesn’t flop massively

taglist @fleshunger @elsbunny222 @whore4abby

#works 𝜗ϱ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #wlw #lesbian #ellie williams fanfic

[lunasfics]

You Remind Me of Lilies - Damian Wayne

Summary: "You remind me of lilies.” He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?”  You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Every time.”

pairing: older! Damian Wayne x gn! Reader

word count: 611

warnings: none

a/n: saw a picture of lilies and got the idea to write this <3 my formal apology for the jason angst lol, i hope you like it! - luna <3

reblogs are appreciated!

The moment was a quiet one. The two of you were sitting on the grassy patch, the soft cloth from your earlier picnic providing comfort beneath you. Damian held your hand in his as he looked forward, eyeing the patches of lilies scattered across the meadow. 

You looked at him, his brilliant green eyes glazed over with the soft peachy tint of the sunset ahead. The soft breeze swaying his hair ever so slightly, his smooth olive skin was kissed by the soft pink and orange hues of the fading sun. He turned to you, his gaze catching yours. His lips quirked up into a soft smile.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You remind me of lilies.” 

He paused, eyeing you with curiosity, “And why is that, beloved?” 

You smiled, “You just do, all different colors of lilies mean different things, and I can trace each one back to you. Everytime.” 

A soft shade of pink spreads over his ears and cheeks, he scoots closer to you, the hand that was holding yours letting go and snaking itself around your waist. You leaned into him, relishing the moment. The soft sounds of the grass rustling in the breeze, a blue hue slowly washing over you as the sun sets further. The temperature cooled slowly, the warmth of the sun dissipating, you brought yourself closer to Damian. 

“Tell me about the lilies.” He spoke softly, you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled. 

“Well, white lilies mean purity, tranquility, and humility. Red ones signify love and affection, pink symbolizes youth and joy, and orange ones represent happiness, love, and warmth.” 

He spoke softly, “I don’t know that I’m any of those things.” 

You turned to look at him, “Nonsense, you’re all those things and more.” 

He met your gaze, smiling softly, the sun was gone by now. However looking into his sparkling green eyes, seeing the small crinkles at the corners from his soft gaze, they could’ve fooled you into thinking the sun was shining on just the two of you. 

He leaned and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I don’t think I would be anywhere near where I am today if not for you. I love you.” He spoke softly. His voice is gentle, tender. 

You were so proud of him. Truly. He'd graduated from the Robin title, taking on his own identity, he'd started attending Gotham University with you. He'd opened up, made friends, he'd come so far. And it was all him. As far as he has come, these kinds of soft gazes, tender words, and warm touches were the kind that he saved only for you. It made them all the more special.

“That's all the product of your effort, Dami, not me. I love you too.” You leaned your head back on his chest, his arm wrapped securely around you. 

The two of you stay like that for a moment, a comfortable silence washing over you like a warm blanket of serenity. The bees have stopped buzzing, the sounds now replaced with the distant songs of the cicadas, and the soft sounds of the crickets. 

Damian broke the silence, “I used to think you were too good for me. That I didn’t deserve you. This. Even now when I look at you it’s as though I am seeing the stars for the first time.”

You met his eyes, gazing into the now darkened shade of green, “You deserve everything good in this world.” 

He held you closer, kissing you softly. He pulled away, speaking softly, “The sun is down, we should get going.” 

You shook your head, “Let’s stay just a little bit longer. This is nice.” 

He smiled and nodded, “As you wish, beloved.”

#dc x reader #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #x reader #x gender neutral reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian al ghul #damian x reader #dc comics #dc #robin #robin x reader #dc robin #dc damian wayne #x reader fluff #dc x reader masterlist #damian wayne x reader fluff #damian #damian fluff #damian x gn! reader #batman

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The noise of a lawnmower welcomes you out into the vibrant summer day. Your mother is already on the porch, sat on the patio bench. You can tell she’s primped herself up just a little bit. You put the jug of lemonade on the wicker table and stand by the end of the long eat. 

“A kind man,” your mother muses beneath the racket of the mower, “about time we got someone decent ‘round here. You know,” she furrows her brow viciously, “those bitches from the cul-de-sac never liked your nana. Hate us even more. Stepford hags.” 

You nod and peek over at Steve as he pushes the mower in a straight line. The grass falls to the blade and leaves thick clippings in rows. You twiddle your fingers as you notice the shine of sweat on the man’s forehead and forearms. His act of kindness feels more like pity. 

“Don’t be stupid, girl, go grab some cups,” your mother snipes and draws your attention back to the porch. “That man’s going to think I raised a moron.” 

You retreat back into the house. For as pleasant as she was to your new neighbour, it has done little for her mood. Or maybe it’s just you. 

You grab two of the rippled plastic cups from the cupboard and head back down the hall. You stop as you reflection passes you in the mirror. You turn to face it. You frown. You’re nothing special to look at but you don’t do much to help that. You wonder if you put on some mascara or wore something nicer if you might look anything close to pretty. 

You shrug off the fleeting insecurity. It’s not important. Your mother’s sick and your little uncertainties don’t mean anything. You push through the screen door and clack the cups down. As you do, the mower quiets and you peer over. The grass is trimmed neatly as Steve stands close to the steps, wiping his forehead as his cheeks burn rosy form the heat. 

“Whew, think I’ll try some of that lemonade,” he climbs the steps, “hot one today.” 

As he climbs the last step and he drags his hands down his tee shirt. His grey blonde hair droops forward and he tries to shake it out of his face. He tugs at the hem of his shirt and lifts it over his head, revealing a sweat-dampened undershirt. 

“Don’t mind me,” he chuckles as he uses the outer layer to mop his face and neck, “think I overdressed.” 

“Get him some lemonade,” your mother hisses and points to the jug. “Steve, was it? What brings you to Heron Meadows?” 

You unstack one cup from the other and fill both. You set the pitcher back down and step back on your heel, folding your hands together as you fade into the background. You’re peripheral to your mother. You only exist when she needs you. 

“Well, settling down, I think,” he smiles and reaches for a cup. He raises it and stops it just in front of his chest. He carefully gestures at you with it, “thanks.” 

Your eyes round and you glance away, “welcome.” 

“Settling down?” Your mother echoes coyly. 

“I know, I’m a bit late to the game. Had to get out of the city. Maybe I outgrew it,” he sighs, “and you two? Where’s your husband hanging out?” 

You mother laughs and crosses one leg over the other, not easily as she struggles to still the shake in her foot, “long gone. He never saw this place.” 

“Ah, hope I didn’t hit a sore spot,” Steve’s cheek dimples before he sips from the glass. 

“Mm, don’t feel much for the deadbeat,” your mother tisks, “what about you? Settling down? Is your wife coming with the couch?” 

“Ah, yeah,” he reaches over to plant his hand against the pillar that connects to the rail. He leans on it and gulps again. He swallows before he continues, his eyes meeting yours for the split second you dare to look up, “missed that step but the house will keep me busy until I figure that out.” 

“Oh don’t you worry, that little club will keep you busy,” your mother scoffs, “make sure ya keep your picket fence nice and whitewashed.” 

Steve gives a curious furrow of his brow. You mother sniffs as her little quip hangs in the air. 

“HOA,” you put in quietly. 

“Mm, I bought out of that,” he says. “Outdated if you ask me. I don’t need them telling me what colour to paint my door.” 

“Bought out?” Your mother grumbles. 

“I didn’t relish the extra lawyer fees but worth it,” Steve explains before he empties the cup and puts it back down, “thanks, that was great. Uh, guess I should get started on the back.” 

You stand dumbly as you mother agrees with a grumble. An awkward silence thickens around you and she snaps in your direction with her fingers, “take him out back, honey.” 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you clamour forward as if awoken from a slumber. “Just...” you near Steve and step around him to scurry down the stairs. “this way.” 

He leaves his tee shirt draped over the railing and turns to follow. He looms like a shadow behind you and as you stop to reach over the top of the gate and unlock it, you scratch around blindly. He steps closer and hooks his arm over yours. The smell of his sweat fills your nose. 

“Got it,” he says as he easily unlatches the clasp and the gate slants inward. 

You push through, quickly making distance from him as he trails you into the backyard. It’s even worse than the front. You grab the broken mower from where you left it and drag it towards the garage. 

“Great, I’ll go grab the mower,” he declares and leaves you to shove your way awkwardly into the side door of the garage. You push the rusted metal inside and the door snaps shut at your back as you emerge back into the sunlight. 

Steve pushes through his nice electric mower and you shy away. It’s got to be close to new and no doubt expensive. You trod through the tall grass and as you pass him, his arm brushes yours. 

“I could do the eaves too,” he stops beside you. “Get some of these weeds cut too.” 

“No thanks,” 

“I don’t mind,” he insists. 

“I can manage.” 

“You can. Probably a lot. Your mom...” he suggests, letting his words hang. “She sick?” 

You glance at his chest, the white fabric taught to his muscles above his thick stomach. You nod. 

“You take care of her?” He prompts. 

“Do my best,” you mutter and traipse on, “thanks.” 

“Right, uh,” he calls after you, “well, if you change your mind or think of anything, you can always ask.” 

You keep on. He feels bad for you. Just like everyone else. You’ve heard Marge and Lucy on their daily power walk; poor thing, going nowhere, sad... 

You go back out front, leaving the gate open. You go to grab the broom from the porch as your mother remains as she was. Her hand trembles on her thigh. 

“You know, should clean up around here,” she says, “invite him for dinner as thank you. Maybe tomorrow.” 

You take the broom and stop at the bottom of the steps, “maybe tomorrow,” you agree. 

“He’s a nice man. Could use one of those,” she smirks, “never had one of those. Handsome to boot.” 

It’s strange. You haven’t seen your mother smile since your grandma was around and even then, it wasn’t like this. The way she’s talking is almost ravenous. Like she’s slathering over a pork chop still on the grill. 

“Just gonna sweep up the trimmings,” you explain as you drag the broom down the walk. 

“Ugh, do whatever, you simple girl,” she chides. “When you’re done, you start on that kitchen. Those damn dishes have been sitting there all day.” 

“Yes mother,” you say to the broomstick as you begin to sweep. 

The sun beams relentlessly down, pouring onto you like fire. When you’re done, you return the broom to its place against the siding of the house and let yourself inside. Your mother hums as she watches the birds. You should be happy to see her outside, to see her in a better mood, but you’re too uneasy with the presence of that man. You know his name but it doesn’t make him any less a stranger. 

You fill the sink and add soap. You plunge a stack of plates into the water and stare out the small window above. You can see the side of the next house. It isn’t much too look at but sometimes a squirrel will critter along the wooden fence top. 

As you zone out, hands working mindlessly on scrubbing and dousing, a shift in the foggy colours of your vision brings your eyes into focus. You blink as Steve waves from outside. He rolls the mower up to the gate and smiles at you. You wince, jolted by the reminder of him. You offer a flutter of your soapy fingers. 

He stops and stares at you through the window. You blink, uncertain what to do. He’s just looking at you. He winks and you wince at the gesture. He slaps his hand back down on the mower and pushes it through to the front yard. That was odd. 

Or maybe you’re just awkward. 

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #the girl next door #series #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

[coryoskywalker]

was it over? (Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Description: was their relationship really over?

Warnings!! Coriolanus being a manipulative bitch. He’s also obsessed with y/n but he won’t admit it obviously *insert eye roll* :)

Also I didn’t proofread this…like…at all…

"I know it's difficult, y/n." Coriolanus stated solemnly, a heavy weight settling in his stomach at the thought of what he was about to say.

They had been sitting together quietly in the meadow, the gentle buzz of insects filling the air as the light of the afternoon bathed the forest in a warm, golden glow. The atmosphere was calm and serene, making it all the more jarring for Coriolanus to bring up such a delicate subject.

"What's difficult?" y/n inquired curiously, turning to face him. Her tone was light, but her smile was tinged with concern.

"Us." Coriolanus replied simply, the one word hanging heavy in the air between them. The tension rose as y/n remained silent, her gaze shifting away as she struggled to find the right words.

"What do you mean?" y/n finally asked softly, her heart already knowing the answer. Her voice had grown hoarse as she tried desperately not to show the hurt she was feeling.

At first, Coriolanus's expression remained unchanged, but as y/n watched more closely, she saw a slight downturn of his lips, the smallest of sighs escaping his lips.

"We're not working out." Coriolanus finally spoke, the words tearing the silence in twain like a knife. Y/n's heart shattered at the sound of them, her breath catching in her throat as a wave of disbelief washed over her. Could this really be happening? Did her relationship with Coriolanus mean so little to him that he was willing to throw it away like this?

"What do you mean, we're not working out?!" y/n finally exclaimed, her voice breaking as her emotions ran high.

"I need to be honest with you, y/n." Coriolanus began, his voice as steady as the ground beneath her feet. Y/n felt her heart sink as she looked up at him, already knowing what he was about to say, yet praying for a miracle.

"There's someone else." Coriolanus continued, an expression of guilt and sadness crossing his face. Y/n wanted to sink into the earth, the pain she felt at those words threatening to break her.

Y/n wanted to argue with him, to convince him that she could be everything he needed and more. But as she stared at the grief and uncertainty in his eyes, she knew that he wouldn't be swayed.

"Please, Coriolanus..." y/n whispered, the words catching in her throat as her eyes welled with tears. "I'm sorry for not being enough for you. I tried so hard to be the girl you needed. How long have you been hiding this from me?" Her voice was desperate, her heart torn at the thought of losing him.

"For a while," Coriolanus admitted quietly, his voice so low that y/n barely heard him. "But you kept trying so hard, and I liked the attention you gave me. But then one day, I met someone else. And they changed the way I saw you."

Y/n couldn't help but feel her heart break as she took in Coriolanus's confession. She'd always known that he would get bored of her eventually, but the reality was different than the fantasy she'd created. Her cheeks felt hot with shame as tears began to fall.

Coriolanus looked up at her with a look of pity, a silent apology on his expression as he placed his hand gently on her knee.

"I'm sorry, y/n." He whispered, unable to hide his own disappointment in himself. "I should have told you sooner. But I still care for you...just not in the same way."

Y/n's stomach twisted as she heard the truth spill out of his mouth. She wanted to protest, to beg Coriolanus to reconsider, but the truth was there between their words, making her feel as small as an insect.

"We can still be friends." Coriolanus offered weakly, his body tense as the weight of their conversation settled across his shoulders.

To y/n, the suggestion of friendship was more painful than the reality of their break-up. It was worse to know that the love she felt for him now meant nothing to him. The thought of seeing him with another girl was unbearable.

"I can't." She whispered softly, her voice breaking slightly as her face flooded with pain. "I can never see you the same way."

Coriolanus slowly nodded, his expression sad but understanding.

"But...but I love you." y/n breathed, her breath catching in her throat as tears began to fall. This couldn't be real. She was having a nightmare, and she was about to wake up any second now. She had to be, because the thought of her life without Coriolanus was unimaginable.

"I'm sorry." He murmured quietly, running his fingers through his hair as if to clear his mind. His eyes were downcast, avoiding hers. "But I can't love you the way you want me to."

Coriolanus slowly stood to his feet, still unable to meet y/n's gaze. His footsteps were heavy as he walked away from her, the sound of his sandals sinking into the soft grass.

Y/n watched him leave, unable to react, her thoughts consumed with a hollow sadness that left her feeling hollow inside. She wanted to beg him to stay, to reassure her that he was making a mistake, but no words would leave her mouth. She could only sit in stunned silence as her heart shattered into a million pieces.

As Coriolanus disappeared into the distance, y/n was left alone with her pain, the sounds of her weeping drowned out by the birdsong and rustle of leaves. The sunlight filtering through the trees was no longer pleasant, but rather felt like a spotlight on her misery.

The sun began to set, and y/n realized she had been sitting in the meadow for hours, numb to everything around her like a zombie without a soul. It was only as darkness began to settle that she slowly forced her legs to move, to walk away from the place where her heart broke forever.

——————————————————————————-

Y/n sat in front of the television, trying to distract herself with the news broadcast. For months, she had been unable to get Coriolanus Snow out of her mind, and now seeing him on television every day was like a cruel reminder of the hole that had been left in her heart.

"Breaking news..." The newscaster began, her voice puncturing the silence of the living room. y/n felt her heart start to pound as she knew the next sentence would confirm all of her suspicions. "President Coriolanus Snow...reportedly engaged to-"

"...to the daughter of Panem political figure-" The newscaster's voice continued, but y/n couldn't listen any longer. She couldn't care less about the political landscape of the country or what family Coriolanus was marrying into. She knew it was pointless to continue pining after Coriolanus, but seeing the evidence of his imminent marriage was like stabbing her heart all over again.

Tears sprang to y/n's eyes, but she was unaware of her own sobs. All she could focus on was the pain of the breakup, the hurt of seeing Coriolanus move on without her.

Y/n tried to push away the emotions welling within her as the words flashed on the TV screen: "Wedding date confirmed." Her hand rose to her heart as if to clutch something inside of her that was slipping away. What had she done to deserve such heartbreak? She had loved Coriolanus since they met, and yet he had never been hers.

She wanted to be angry, to blame him for leading her on and making her think they could be together, but she could never hate him. Instead, y/n was left with only sadness, her heart broken beyond repair.

Y/n looked up as loud knocking sounded at her front door. She tried to ignore it, to pretend that she didn't hear it and continue with her day, but the banging became louder, more persistent, refusing to let her sit in her grief.

Eventually, she forced herself to her feet and crossed the room to answer the door, wondering who would be coming by at this time of night. She froze as she saw Coriolanus Snow standing on her doorstep, his expression solemn and his eyes set with determination.

Y/n felt her head spin as she opened the door. Coriolanus stood there, his face pale and his eyes pleading with her. What did he want from her now? She had already experienced too much pain at his hands, and wasn't eager to endure this again.

"I never stopped loving you." He whispered, his voice quivering as he forced the words out. "Please, y/n...I know I should've said something sooner, but I couldn't keep living a lie. I don't want anyone else. I only want you."

Y/n couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was it really possible that Coriolanus hadn't fallen out of love with her? Surely he couldn't give her hope only to take it back again.

"I don't believe you." She whispered, her eyes searching his as if to uncover his true intentions.

"I mean it." Coriolanus insisted, taking a step towards her. "I've never stopped loving you, y/n. I've never wanted anyone else." His words were like music to her ears, but she still couldn't be sure if she could trust them.

"Then how could you let me believe you were marrying someone else?" Y/n inquired softly, her eyes filling with tears. "How could you make me feel so...so abandoned."

Coriolanus looked away, unable to meet her eye. "I know it was wrong, y/n...but I couldn't bear to see the pain on your face when I told you." She couldn't understand his reasoning, but when he reached out for her hand and pulled her into an embrace, y/n didn't even try to resist.

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around y/n, holding her against his chest as she melted into his embrace. In that moment, she felt safe and wanted, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like she belonged.

"I'm sorry..." Coriolanus whispered into her ear. "I know I hurt you, but I'll make it up to you, I swear."

She didn't know how long they stayed in that embrace, but eventually, reality crept back in and y/n pulled away from him. "What about your wedding?" She whispered, her gaze falling to his hand.

Coriolanus looked at her hand, then back to y/n. "I canceled it." He confirmed with a small smile. "I don't need anything else, just you."

Y/n's eyes flickered with surprise, followed by relief. Was it really that simple? Was Coriolanus saying all of the right things, only to abandon her again?

"Is that why you're here? You don't want to get married anymore?" She asked, wanting to be sure that she understood him clearly before she let her heart believe him.

Coriolanus sighed as he studied her face, his expression turning cunning and calculating. "Y/n," he began slowly, "you and I both know that our love isn't meant to be. I know you want one thing, but I want something else."

"I want you to love me unconditionally," Coriolanus continued, a strange glint in his eye. "To love me above all others, and to always put my needs above yours. No questions asked." Coriolanus sighed as he studied her face, his expression turning cunning and calculating.

Y/n froze, her mind racing. What did Coriolanus mean by that? Did he not love her after all?

"But...but that's not how love works." Y/n replied weakly, her voice cracking under the weight of Coriolanus's words. He stepped closer to her, until their faces were only inches apart. His eyes remained focused on her, their intensity making her feel like she was under his spell.

"You're wrong." He whispered. "A true love gives everything, without question. Only then can one call themselves lovers." Y/n felt her heart flutter as Coriolanus spoke, his voice making her toes tingle and her stomach feel hollow.

Y/n couldn't say anything, her body too consumed by Coriolanus's words and the spell that he was weaving. She wanted to say no, to resist him, but all she could manage to do was silently stare at him, a flush of heat rising across her cheeks.

"Don't you love me?" Coriolanus whispered, his voice dripping with seduction and intrigue as he tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Yes..." She breathed quietly, the word coming out almost as a whisper, her heart fluttering in her chest.

"You belong to me." Coriolanus murmured, his eyes never straying from hers. Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat as his words sunk in, and she felt herself fall into him.

She loved him, she belonged to him, and there was nothing that could change that. Nothing mattered in that moment except Coriolanus and the feelings that he was stirring in her heart. With shaking hands and trembling lips, she gave herself to him, knowing that he would never leave her again.

Y/n gave Coriolanus everything, holding nothing back as she gave herself to him fully. He took her body like it was his right, his hands exploring and claiming her in ways that left her mind reeling with the intensity of the moment. She wanted to hate him for taking advantage of her, for turning her love and devotion into something twisted and controlling. But all she could focus on was Coriolanus and the way his bright eyes burned into hers, his words hypnotizing her to obey his every command.

#Spotify #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosbas #the hunger games #young!coriolanus snow #tom blyth x reader

[writingoddess1125]

In Another Life

Depression Time!!

Trafalgar Law x FemReader

Sadness, Angst, Death. And More Saddness!

Support me on Ko-Fi! Gotta survive to write more!

Wrote this while watching a movie- can probably guess the movie..

'Law! You have to promise me, when we get married we get a kitten' You giggled at your long term . The two of you holding hands as you walked through the meadows next to the secret base.

Law bristled at your words, remembering his own parents and the happiness they shared- but also the heartache he experienced thinking of them. The two of you looking to each other-

'Why do you say that?'

'Cause kittens are cute?- especially ones with gray fur and blue eyes' He cut you off with an annoyed scoff.

'No the marriage thing? Why would you think I'd marry you!?' His words harsh and rude which made you flinch.

'Law.. We aren't long for this world- we have already spent most of our lives together then seperate.. I'd want to spend the rest of it with you' You said so softly, confuses by his tone. Law yanking his hand away from you in false anger.

'Then I shouldn't waste my time in doing something stupid like marriage' He said annoyed. Your eyes filling up with tears, you didn't say a word. Instead walking away from him- he didn't stop you. Assuming you had just went to clear your mind from the harsh reality- but he didn't expect you to never return at all...

He should have know... he should have truly heard her words when she said she waan't long for this world...

That had been years ago.. he hadn't heard or seen (Y/N) since. Truthfully he regretted that so much- his world ever darker since that day.

At night he would wince when he thought back on his words before sleep- his dreams filled with the life he should have had with her if he wasn't so angry at the world.

It had been a few days ago however when he'd gotten a letter- recognizing your handwriting so well. But he never could have even guessed the words on those pages- asking to see him again before (Y/N) passed... a illness no one could treat claiming her life and taking her away soon.

Running to her home, he went to the hospital she was in- entering the room with a heavy heart knowing what was on the other side.

Law had always been a man of few words, but as he stood by (Y/N)'s side one final time, a thousand emotions wrestled within his heart. Her form weakened by the ravages of time, lay in a bed adorned with soft blankets that him and others had brought for her, her frail hand clasped in Law's strong grip.

"I wish we had more time," Law murmured, his voice heavy with regret.

(Y/N) smiled weakly, her eyes shimmering with love as the light began to fade from them. "We've had a lifetime of memories, Law. I am grateful for the time we've shared."

Her words struck Law like a blade to the chest, as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill. His hardened exterior cracked, and vulnerability seeped through the cracks.

"I often dreamed of a life together, you know," Law confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "A quiet house by the sea, with our children running through the sand. We would sit on the porch, holding hands and watching the sunset."

Her expression softened with reminiscence, her voice a gentle melody. "That sounds like a beautiful lofe, Law. A life filled with love and peace."

Law's grip on (Y/N)'s hand tightened, as if trying to hold onto the fleeting moments they had left. "I would have given anything to make that dream a reality. To protect you, to see you smile every day."

(Y/N) lifted her free hand and gently caressed Law's cheek. "You have already given me so much, Law. The love you have shown me is more than I could have ever asked for."

Tears rolled down Law's face, his breathing uneven as he held back sobs. "If you'd had told me- I could have save you! protect you from the cruelty of this world. But..."

Her touch provided a soothing balm to Law's tortured soul. "You gave me a life filled with adventure, love, and purpose. Our time together has been a gift, Law.. even if it had to end like this."

Law lowered his head- sitting next to her as his tears started to drip onto the bed, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. (Y/N) despite her weakened state, gathered her strength and pulled Law into a tender embrace. They held each other, the weight of their emotions filling the room like an unspoken song.

As the sun began to set, its warm glow bathing the room in a golden light, Law whispered his final words into her ear. "I will carry your love within me until my last breath, and beyond. You have forever changed me, and our love will have another day."

(Y/N)'s touch grew feeble, her breathing shallow. She mustered the strength to raise her gaze to meet Law's tear-stained eyes. "Thank you for loving me, Law. I will always be with you, in your heart."

With those tender words, (Y/N) slipped away, leaving Law alone in a world forever altered. He held her lifeless hand, his despair mingling with the emptiness in his chest as loud desperate cries ripped through his soul.

Law sat in the inn, staring at the empty bottles infront of him- his chest feeling hallow and full of regret. Part of him wanting to walk into the sea and return to his love.. see her smiling face one last time-

Rolling himself up from his seat, he stumbled out of the bar- the alcohol making his brain fuzzy and uneven as he was met with the cold night air. His mind drifting to the sea... maybe he would see (Y/N) on the other side- his family.. love out that fantasy the two of you had always wished for.. one that he was too stupid to realize was more important than anything else-

As he walked down to the peir, his mind only of his regrets in life.

He looked out on the ocean, his legs felt like they were lead and he wanted to jump in and let the Goddess claim him- till the sound of his name drew him back. Looking to see a man in a suit rushing to him with a box and crate in tow.

"You there! Are you Trafalgar Law?"

"Yeah what's it to you?" Law grumbled-

"Ah Sir. Im Wallace J, Lawyer for (Y/N)- You were listened in ger will fkr everhthing including her home but (Y/N) had left some items that needed to be personally handed to you- oh and this" The man said calmly as he gestured to the crate.

Law looked confused by this and nodded, taking the box and opening it. There his heart broke for a second time that day- there was several letters, with his name on it- he knew (Y/N) hand writing too well to say these were from anyone else.. paired with the dried flower ring he had made her years ago when the two of them were children, with other sentimentalthings from his childhood. The lawyer holding out a letter that had been separated from the box. The doctor quickly taking it and reading it-

My Darling Law

As I write this letter, I want my time with you in this world has come to an end. But i want you to know that my love for you is unwavering, and my deepest wish is for your happiness. Life is a journey filled with twists and turns, and in those moments when I may not be by your side, I implore you to seek joy and love.

Find someone who fills your soul, someone who understands and cherishes the beautiful person you are. Embrace love, laughter, and companionship with another. Life is too short to settle for anything less than genuine happiness.

Remember, your life is precious and unique, and your happiness is what I want the most for you.

So while I can't be there to be on that journey, I still want you to walk thay path. I know you are hurt, and im sorry i was the one who caused it.. but I hope this little guy can give you just a bit of love to you while you find your way.

I love you Law, to the end of the stars and back.

Forever yours, (Y/N)

The doctor gave a breathy sigh as a sob threated to spill from him. Setting the box down as he looked to the crate, Opening it slowly and tears rolled down at the sight.

A gray kitten with sleepy blue eyes mewed at him- Law reaching forward and picking up the little thing. Remembering the words when the two of shared long ago.

'When we get married- you better get me a kitten. One with gray fur and blue eyes'

The lawyer watching in empathy, watching the man before him crumble and fall to his knees as he held the kitten in his arms.

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #op law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x female reader #x female reader #one piece angst #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw

[w4ndering-th0ught]

sweat. 647 words. @jegulus-microfic.

Joint quidditch practices were Madam Hooch’s idea. Something about trying to quell inter-house animosity- blah blah blah.

In Regulus’ opinion the only thing useful about the joint practices is that they get to see first hand what a disaster the Gryffindor team is.

Like right now, Frank Longbottom and Marlene McKinnon are in a shouting match over which drill the group should work on next.

“No- NO! We can’t give them our best drills, Marlene, they’ll-”

“Oh for fucks sake, we have practice with them for the rest of term, what are we going to do? Never train to our full potential?!”

The Slytherin captain, Dorcas Meadowes, is watching the exchange with her trademark sharpness. She throws a look over at Regulus and cocks and eyebrow. He can practically hear her voice in his head, all brawn no brains, this lot.

He laughs at her and turns away, catching sight of James Potter. Staring at him.

Dorcas claps her hands together twice. “Alright, we’re going to move on to some partner work while those two finish their little spat.” She gestures with two lazy fingers over at Frank and Marlene and starts to draw a line in the mud with the heel of her boot. Marlene looks like she’s swallowed a pygmy puff.

“I call this one push-over.” Dorcas says as she finishes her line. She flicks another finger at Marlene. “You’re with me since you’re finished over there.”

Marlene splutters but stomps over all the same.

“Slytherins will be on this side of the line, Gryffindors on the other.” Dorcas indicates the line in the mud separating her and Marlene. “Knees bent, hinge slightly at the waist, and link your shoulders.” Dorcas gestures for Marlene to follow her lead and they end up with Dorcas’ left shoulder pressed to Marlene’s right, their cheeks practically smushed together. “The goal is to get to your opponent's side of the line.”

That’s all the warning Dorcas gives before she is barrelling into Marlene full force, the Gryffindor staggering back three paces. Dorcas catches her round the middle before she can go sprawling in the mud.

She keeps her hand in the curve of Marlene’s waist and turns to address the rest of the two teams. “Just like that. Go ahead and pair off. I’ll count you down.”

Marlene has gone bright red.

Regulus turns to see which Gryffindor he can goad into going against him and finds James Potter already waiting on the other side of the line. He doesn’t say anything, just bends over slightly and offers his shoulder to Regulus the way a knight might offer a lady his sword. Chivalrous. Condescending.

Regulus tries his best to scowl and hinges forward, slotting his shoulder in place against James’. He’s hot from their warm up, Regulus can feel his breath tickling at his neck.

“3, 2, 1-”

Neither of them hesitate, they’re pressing and shoving and heaving at each other. James is growling, the feeling of it vibrating through his chest and transferring to Regulus’ clavicle.

And Regulus is not going to win this. James is a chaser, broad and tall and fucking strong. Regulus is a seeker, he’s quick but he can’t-

James’ foot slips in the mud and he goes down, snagging Regulus’ kit so they land in a heap, Regulus directly on top of him.

James is gasping, heaving in the air Regulus unceremoniously squished out of him. Regulus is trying to catch his breath as well, very conscious of the fact that they’re only inches away.

“Thought you had that, did you?” Regulus says.

Sweat drips down James’ forehead and snags in the tail end of his eyebrow. “I’m right where I want to be, sweetheart.” James reaches his head forward and brushes their noses together. It’s a tiny touch, a fragment of a moment, and then James is dumping Regulus into the mud.

#jegulus #regulus black #james potter #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus microfic #my writing #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #dorlene

[bteezxyewriter12]

Annoyed Series

Yoongi

Pairing- Yoongi x Named Reader

Word count- 989 Words

Includes- Everything is consensual, argument, established relationship, public sex, outdoor sex, missionary, dirty talk, mocking, name calling, squirting, multiple orgasms, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @amyz78 @marvelfamily3000

Gif Credit- taee.tumblr.com

Masterlists- check out for more fics

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Running after her, I grab her wrist, pulling her to a stop

"Are you fucking kidding me?", I yell, "You piss me off and you're running away?"

"I told you it wasn't my fault! They surprised me!", she snaps

This was supposed to be a little camping trip, just me and her

With my heavy work schedule I rarely have time off

I was looking forward to just being with her

And who shows up?

Her sister and her boyfriend

A "nice surprise"

"If you hadn't blabbed about where we were going, no one could of surprised us", I growl

"I was excited! God forbid I tell my sister that I'm going somewhere with my husband!"

"Please Joanne! I know you blabbed every detail. How else would they know the exact campsite?", I scoff

"Fuck you!", she snaps

"Fuck me? Fuck me?", I shout in shock

"Yeah fuck you!"

Oh ok, fuck me, yeah we'll see about that

Stepping right up to her, I grab her chin, titling her head up so she's looking at me

"Get on the fucking grass"

She raises her eyebrow, surprise in them, "What?"

"Lay on the fucking grass"

"Yoongi-"

"Now!", I bark

She glares at me as she sits then lays back

Moving to my knees, I hover over her, grabbing at her shorts and pulling them down

"Fuck me huh?", I growl, tearing her panties off, her pretty cunt on display

And already soaked

I know she gets turned on when I'm pissed off and I think she riles me up on purpose

Well she's going to get it now

Undoing my belt, I get my own shorts open and pull them and my boxers down just enough for my hard dick to be freed

"We'll see who's getting fucked", I snap

Grabbing her legs, I shove them to her chest, then push my cock in in one stroke

She gasps as her cunt clenches my cock so fucking hard, my dick already soaked

I move immediately, pumping my cock in and out of her pretty tight pussy, bliss shooting in my body instantly

Squeezing her legs, I pound her cunt wide open, splitting that tiny hole

"Fuck me", I snap, "I'm not the one getting fucked right now"

"Yoongi", she moans, in pleasure, her cunt creaming my dick so much, it's everywhere and leaving a pretty ring of cream around my base

God that's so hot

"Yoongi", I mock, glaring at her, "Not so tough right now with my cock shoved up that tiny cunt huh?"

She whimpers, her body arching as I smash her spot over and over, feeling her clench on every inch of my length, trying to keep me inside

Sucking me back in with every thrust

"You talk like you're the big shit but as soon as my cock is inside you you're a moaning whimpering mess with a pussy that can't stop drooling on my dick"

Her moans along with the squelching sound of her cunt taking my cock sounds in the meadow we found ourselves in

Her pussy looks so pretty around my cock, those lips so swollen, petaling open with each thrust, each tug she gives me bringing me closer

"I shouldn't let you cum"

"No naekkeo", she cries, tears running down her pretty face, her body shaking in pleasure

"Should just cum in this tight cunt and leave you"

"No, no"

"No? But you basically told me to fuck myself. Not nice"

"I'm sorry naekkeo. I shouldn't...you were yelling and I was mad.. I'm sorry", she sobs

I laugh meanly, "Look at you, apologizing so you can cum. Acting like a starved little cum slut when I fuck you and make you cum every day"

"Pppp...please baby. Feels so good"

I scoff at her, "Fine, you can cum"

I press my fingers into her pulsing clit, rubbing hard as I crash into her cunt repeatedly

"Yoongi!", she screams, her pussy squirting and choking the life from my cock

I fuck her through it, snapping my hips into hers, going harder on her

"Cum again", I demand, "I know you can do it"

She whimpers, tears running down her face

"Aww look at the baby, crying on my cock. Feels that good?"

She nods, hiccupping

"Cum right now or I'm pulling out"

With that I destroy her spot, sending her right into an intense orgasm

"Yoongi!", she screams, her body arching as much as she can

Ecstasy slams into me and I moan her name, burying in her pussy to the hilt, coming so deep in her milking cunt

"Jjj...Joanne fuck", I choke out, my body shivering in pleasure

We ride it out together and I only pull out when we're both finished

She sits up, her arms moving around my neck, pressing a kiss to my lips

"I'm sorry naekkeo", she says, "I didn't mean for them to come on our trip. I wanted it to just be me and you too"

"I know jagi", I tell her, "I just took my anger out on you and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry"

She shakes her head, "It's ok naekkeo. But how about we spend like a day or two with them then we can say you got a call to come back to work and we can leave and go somewhere else alone?"

I raise my eyebrow, smiling, "Yeah? You'd do that?"

She nods, "Anything for my Yoongi. And contrary to what you think, I want you all to myself too"

"I know you do jagi", I tell her, "Ok, I like your plan"

"Good", she smiles, then pulls me to her in another loving kiss

"Jo? Yoongi? Where are you?", her sister calls

She groans in my mouth, pulling away, "We better get ourselves together before they find us like this"

I nod, both of us getting our clothes back on

"C'mon jagi", I tell her, putting my arm around her

She leans her head against me as we start walking back to the campsite

#bts yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts suga fanfic #suga fanfic #bts yoongi smut #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #bts suga smut #suga smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

[dairy-farmer]

Did you know~? Dreams are how the mind subconsciously processes information and our emotions ABOUT the information for us while we are asleep?

:Dc

Gotham Sure Does Have Cults! Don't it? Bet some of them get the bright idea to Capture God(tm). Which ALWAYS ends well, and TOTALLY doesn't lend to them fighting back! Getting the attention of Local Bats!

What with the Lethal, Diving People Too Insanity Nightmares going around.

They're gonna go out on a limb and guess Dream God. Sleep Deity, perhaps. The track the Cult down. Burst in and kick ass. As a Family~

And? The God can admit... they were kinda losing. Humans cheat and these fuckers were VERY prepared. They were gonna Curse this city to unending torment with their dying breathe... BUT! They don't need to do that now! Good for you!

They should probably...reward you or something.

Protocol, you know.

Uuuuuuh, hold on. *look around* Got it! Here. Take these handfull of shiny rocks. Yes, I'm stealing them from the Cultists. They were decorating anyway. Anyway! HERE. I give you A Blessing(tm).

THESE will give you Good Sleep.

One for each of you.

To make up for, you know, tormenting you into intense sleep deprivation, when that is the opposite of my Job. And then you saved me and all. Thanks~☆ *poof!*

It's? A fuckin weird day in Gotham. So basically, just Tuesday. They each take a rock and split, dispite Bruce's paranoid "wait, no! We should lock these up and stare at them suspiciously! Unknown magic! I have anxiety!" Twitching. They're gonna go pass out know. Someone call the commissioner and tell him it's safe now.

They get home, crawl out of their uniforms, into their various beds (even Bruce, as bullied and enforced by Alfred) and give no real thought to their new, divinely gifted, Dream Rock. Probably should have. The magic users would have Lost Their SHIT over those rocks. But, Bats? Telling people things? Voluntarily???

LOL.

And? Of too the first genuinely peaceful, guilt free, nightmare free, night of sleep they've had in A WHILE. As the Rocks get a feel for them. What they WANT out of a Good Sleep experience. Is it walking on the beach? Beating up bad guys and saving the day? A night at home? The Dream Stones shuffling through Pleasant Memories and Happy Thoughts looking for material to work off of.

And... huh. They wake up feeling FANTASTIC.

Turns out? When you actually DO get a good night's rest? No tossing or turning, no night terrors or full body clenching of muscles? Your body heals up. You feel better.

Wild.

These rocks are fantastic.

The give it now more thought. Oh sure, they discuss it. Trial period etc. But? It's all just peaceful meadows and seeing loved ones happy. The classics. Expected, really. So they move on. All while the stones are still finishing their Refining.

Eventually? Ding! They're done! They've gotten a full read of their owner! Know EXACTLY what they want. What would make them happy. So, when the Bat's finally hit the hay? They run their REFINED Dream sequence. Dreaming PLUS, if you will.

It's a school night. So Damian, unfairly in his mind, must go to bed first. Though sleep is not the unpleasant thing it once was. Usually filled with fluffy animals. This time? It's different.

He dreams of entering the Batcave. Taller, stronger. The height and frame he is destined to inherit from his father, finally his. The black armor of The Bat adorning him. Timothy is there. Captured, arms bound behind his back, gagged and on his knees, face pressed to the floor. His armor almost artfully destroyed by battle.

He has cat ears and a tail.

Yet this, like every other jarring detail, seems so perfectly natural. Of course he does. Of course Damian is. Nothing is strange to Damian, as he observes the ears pressed back. The whipping, furious defiance of that tail. The low growl that goes with it. Timothy's eyes catching the light. Beautiful and unbreakable.

Damian strides forward.

They back and forth. Word play sharp and cutting. But Damian has WON and they both know it. Timothy fights now only to save face. Enough is enough. Timothy is haughty. Every bit, beautiful and feline.

Damian has his mouth and DARES him to bite him.

Tear apart the ruins of his armor and claims him on the floor. Is he little NOW, Timothy? Can you ignore him still? The game is over. Admit you've lost! Admit it! The pleasure is too much. His Rival thrashing, biting his lip. Trying to hold back. Unable too in the end. Damian wins. Timothy begs. More, more. Please, it is good. More!

Damian...was NOT aware of the root of his need to fight with Tim. Will not know how to face him come morning.

In his Apartment, Dick drags his aching body into bed. It was a shit day. At least his dreams will be nice. He falls asleep. Blinks "awake" with an OOF! As Tim lands on him with a laugh. Is confused but pleased to see him.

Tim clings. Dotes on him. Bringing breakfast, activities just for them, initiating more casual touch then he has in YEARS. Then? When they get back from what feels like the perfect day out? Dick finds himself doing something he would never DARE. Coming up behind that trusting, warm, cute little body. As Tim chatters and puts things away. And slipping his arms around him. Holding him.

Kissing his neck. Slipping his hand down the front of those cute shorts, to start rubbing him through his panties. Get him wet.

Picking him up and bending him over the back of a couch, so he can tug those bottoms down. Eat him out. Make filthy promises to treat his virgin hole just right. Keep him forever. Listen to him whine and feel him squirm, having never been touched like this before.

Dick wouldn't... wouldn't...

But the dream feels so good. Carrying his Timmy to his room, like a lover. Promising to take such good care of him. Fucking him open on his fingers, then his cock. Kissing his face and neck and perfect little tits. Grinding his clit with his thumb as he finds that perfect angle and pounds til Tim has nothing left to give.

Just the two of them against the world. As pretty little family.

Which will make things awkward with Babs, if she wasn't having her own dreams.

Sitting at her computer. Watching Tim writhing and coming apart at the touch of her keystrokes. Making him wear remote controlled toys. Matching them on herself. Lazy days at the Clockwork, with Tim beneath her desk, a fucking machine in him, his desperate mouth on her.

Flashes and scenarios of what she and Dick could DO to him. Watching Dick fuck her boy sloppy. Not letting EITHER of her boys stop until she was satisfied.

Jason getting a classic. Boyfriend shirt and pizza. Railed on his shitty couch as the movie plays. Like lovers. Newlyweds. Coming home and trying to put a baby in Timmers on his fancy ass mattress in a cheap ass frame. Full on mating press, legs basicly to his ears. Timbers begging for it, needy. Taking it like a champion.

And Bruce? Oh he gets silks and his mothers pearls. The suits he wishes he could get Tim to wear, with stockings hidden underneath. Dinner and dancing. Gotham at peace. Tim looking at him with adoration.

Like a Classy Romance from the movies of his youth. Everything rose petals and candle light. Tim TAKING it, dispite how difficult it is for partners to handle him. Everything being tight and slick and hot. Bruce being ruinous in how good he is. No one will ever be able to compare. Tim is his. Just his.

Waking up and nearly yeeting the Dram Stone through the nearest wall.

Tim of course... dream fucks several teammates, a couple Hot Celebrities, and that one GORGEOUS Alien Prince from that one mission when he was like 14. *siiiiiips morning coffee* was an interesting night. Given everyone's thousand yard stare, good to see it wasn't just him who Learned Some Stuff About Themselves last night.

He'll agree not to ask if they don't?

DEAL.

-🐼🐼🐼

everyone but tim grappling with their own existence, morality, and guilt at the breakfast table 😭😭😭

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

[writingquestionsanswered]

I've often heard that it's not okay to put any sort of worldbuilding info(dump) in a prologue. But what are the parameters in which it would work well? I know Avatar has done it and it was fairly brief but I'm just curious as to how far one can go with "infodumping" in a prologue without it becoming boring to the reader. Also if it does get to the point where it is too much or not necessary then what are some ways you can explain worldbuilding in the story when every character is usually in the know of how the magic system works or whatever?

Info-Dumping, Prologues, and Weaving In Details

First, it's important not to confuse "info-dumping" with providing information in your story. Info-dumping is specifically when you use exposition to "dump" a whole bunch of information into the story at once, rather than weaving those details into the narrative through a balance of exposition, action, and dialogue. In The Hunger Games, for example, details about Katniss's life and the oppressive world she lives in are doled out between exposition (her first-person thoughts), dialogue (with Gale), and action (walking through District 12, hunting outside the electric fence, the Reaping.) If it had been info-dumped, the entire first chapter would just be Katniss "telling" the reader all of those things rather than the reader getting to experience some of them through action and dialogue.

Prologues have a very specific use, are rarely needed, and are often misused--which is why writers are typically told to avoid them all together. Prologues aren't there to be used as an expository introduction to your story's world, characters, back story, or situation so that the reader is up and running in chapter one. Prologues are meant to house a scene (or small group of scenes) that take place before the main timeline of your story but which provide critical information and details the reader must know going into the story. Just as with any other scene or chapter, prologues need to be a balance of exposition (explaining), action (things happening), and dialogue. A good example is the prologue at the beginning of George R.R. Martin's A Game of Thrones. The scene takes place north of the wall and features some Night's Watch rangers encountering a White Walker. This scene is important because it sets up the hidden conflict at the heart of the story--the battle between humanity and the magical undead ice beings from beyond the wall. While we do certainly get some expository information in the way of world building, character details, and back story, it isn't dumped on the reader. Some of it is expository, but the rest is woven into the action and dialogue as these characters range beyond the wall and encounter the White Walker.

Even when your characters are "in the know" about the details of your story, that doesn't mean they can't think about them, interact with them, or talk about them. In the real world, we may not do that a lot, but books are not the real world. Books are a storytelling device which requires you to transcend some everyday realities in order to keep the audience informed of what's going on. Part of that means finding ways for your characters to think about, interact with, or talk about things that will help deliver the necessary details to your reader. For example, in The Hunger Games, we get a lot of world building details and Hunger Games set up through action and dialogue while Katniss walking through District 12 to meet Gale, and then hunting with him in the meadow. The entire scene exists solely to introduce the reader to Katniss, her world, the people who are important to her, her internal conflict, and the story's external conflict.

Have a look at my post Weaving Details into the Story for more help. Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[ewesie]

𝙲𝚛𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐

Words: 1260

cw: PTSD

Astarion/gn, 3rd POV

The images flashed through his mind. No matter how hard he tried to force them away, they were a persistent plague on his thoughts. He grimaced. Only twice had they indulged in the pleasures of his body. During both encounters, their expression had been one he’d seen countless times. Flushed cheeks, parted lips, sweat on their brow… His throat clenched.

He watched them from beneath the awning of his tent. His eyes scrutinizing their movements as they brought a spoonful of stew to their lips. Such a mundane and mortal activity and yet— why? Why was he so invested in them? There was a sinking pervasive feeling in his gut as they noticed and turned their attention towards him.

A wave. Just a little wave, so friendly and unguarded. That was the tipping point. Despite returning it with a practiced, friendly smile, Astarion shut the book in his hands. He set it down carefully on the small table he’d pilfered from one of the abandoned houses in Moonhaven, taking great care to stage it to be most appealing. With the outside of his tent carefully manicured, he slipped away into the shadow of the woods.

It wasn’t prey he was after, no, he couldn’t put a single shred of focus into hunting. Instead, Astarion wandered down game trails and across meadows dotted in vibrant little flowers. All that wandering however, couldn’t shake the images from his mind. Hells! Was this what madness felt like? …no. He knew madness, well acquainted with it actually. No, this was something else altogether.

With them, it had felt different. Those two nights stuck out like a beacon in an endless sea of silken linens and dusky taverns. They were guiding him towards some unknown place in the night, his mind battered by white tipped waves of seduction and manipulation. 

He stumbled, the toe of his shoe catching on a root and cursing to no god or goddess in particular. When his hand landed on the rough bark of a tree, bile rose in his stomach.

He retched.

Nothing but bile and saliva spattered the grass and rocks. It wasn’t long after that an overwhelming sense of hollow emptiness crashed over him. His legs buckled and he fell to his knees at the base of the tree. Only when his legs grew numb did he shift to lean his back against the strong, silent tree. How resilient it must have been, Astarion thought as he gazed, unseeing, at the overcast night.

Time was the least of his concern and he had the faintest idea of how much of it passed. Not even thoughts drifted through his mind. Only fleeting, hollow emotions as he was distant and unconnected to the vibrant night around him. At least the ground was comfortable enough.

A twig snapping sent a wave of goosebumps down his spine. On instinct, Astarion stood, his hand hovering near the handle of the ornate dagger at his side. Cautiously, he peeked around the tree and spotted a familiar outline. He dropped his hand to his side and relaxed his shoulders, then fixed a smile on his lips before stepping out from behind the tree.

“Darling, did you come looking for another romp in the woods?” he asked so casually, he could taste bile again.

They turned and squinted in his direction before they opened their mouth to say something.

Astarion didn’t want to hear it. He made his way over to them with all the grace he possessed. “Sh-shh, you don’t need to say a word. I already know how you feel, how your heart flutters and your cheeks flush. I know what you seek and I am more than happy to oblige. After all, we both know that you can get lost in the pleasure only I can give.”

Their brows knitted together and a frown twisted its way onto their lips. Despite his internal shock at their response, his visage remained unchanged, his smile plastered and honeyed as ever. After all, they couldn’t resist it.

“Are you alright?” they asked, ignoring his previous statement.

“Me? Of course, my sweet, never better. I was just out for an evening snack. All of your… eating, worked up my appetite as well.” His gaze wavered in his attempt to hold theirs.

Just as he had, they scrutinized every detail and every inch of him. Astarion felt bare beneath their gaze. It was as if they could see right through him… and perhaps they could— because as much as he tried to deny it, his act was slipping little by little. Those little looks, jests and sweet laughter when they’d speak had gotten to him and gotten under his skin.

The staring match went on for many long moments until finally they relented with an exasperated sigh. They ran a hand through their hair before they asked, “walk me back to camp?”

Astarion hesitated, his mask slipping for a moment.

It felt then that all his insecurities laid out for them to see in the space between them. He swore his fingers trembled, his hands growing colder and clammy as his brain tried to register the question. The only witnesses were the forest and the silvery moonlight just barely veiled behind a wisp of cloud.

His name fell from their lips. It was gentle, as if spoken by a lover— Astarion’s stomach clenched. He slipped back into his visage and felt his body relax to the comfortability of his role.

“Of course,” he replied. They held out a hand but he pretended it didn’t exist, instead, he fell into a comfortable step beside them.

The moonlight guided their path as the clouds melted away into the starry darkness. It took him a couple minutes to realize that it wasn’t the camp they were leading him to, but a cliff on a rise that overlooked the entirety of it.

A gentle wind ruffled his curls as he stepped out from behind a prickled evergreen shrub. The sap clung to his clothes but he paid it no mind. All of his focus was on them as their features were highlighted in silver. They flashed him a knowing smile before motioning for him to stand in the space beside them.

Astarion moved to their side and swept his eyes over the camp.

It was alive without their presence and it stung. Their traveling companions laughed and drank without them, as if they’d never existed in that space.

“I said we were going to spend some time alone and not to wait up,” they paused and bit their lip, “you can talk to me, you know.”

Astarion turned to them, his ruby eyes searching their own. There was a sadness within them that he too recognized. Something that they too didn’t know how to express-- just like him. Maybe it was then that his plan fell apart. Maybe it was back at the Tiefling's party or the second night that followed. Maybe he was just doomed from the start.

He sat down first and they followed. While they tucked their knees against their chest, Astarion leaned back, his eyes following the steady stream of smoke pouring into the endless star studded sky. There were no words, just a comfortable silence that settled between them.

There wasn’t any one word he could put to the things he felt as he sat on that rocky cliff. But he was alright with that. For now, he was content to sit beside them as they watched the camp below and the stars above. Talking could wait.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #Spotify

[teecupangel]

Once upon a meadow, in the heart of the Enchanted Forest, lived a curious rabbit and a vibrant blue bird. The rabbit was known for his insatiable appetite for stories, while the bird had a talent for composing beautiful songs. One day, they discovered an ancient oak tree with a magical mailbox that promised to deliver letters to any faraway places.

Excitement sparkled in the rabbits eyes as he hopped around the bird. "Let's write many letters to put in it! Imagine the tales and tunes we could share!"

The bird, with a melodious chirp, agreed, and they began crafting heartfelt letters under the rustling leaves of the old oak tree. The rabbit added his whimsical anecdotes, and the bird penned verses that echoed through the enchanted meadow.

They wrote as much as they can and placed it in the mailbox hoping anyone could stumble upon some of the letters. Some were replied sooner, others took time but one specific letter was found by a courier and in haste did he went to deliver it.

Inside it says: "Desmond turns into a lamb. You could do whatever you want I just want to see Desmond as a lamb because symbolism lmao."

At the age of fourteen, the recruits of the Brotherhood were required to present a kill to the mentor. It could be any kind of animal but the Brotherhood preferred it to be some kind of animal that can be cooked and shared to everyone.

It was a way to prepare them to the inevitable time that they must take the life of another.

Their kill must always be in the presence of an Assassin of Master rank or higher. Someone who can provide guidance and protection for unforeseen circumstances.

They would usually be someone connected to the recruit, the one who found them or a blood relative.

Altaïr had neither.

Had his father been alive, he would have been the one to guide Altaïr.

Al Mualim, who had taken over Umar’s duties since Altaïr was eleven, could not do it. It would have been seen as something more in the eyes of many Assassins.

So the duty befell Faheem Al-Sayf as one of the few remaining Assassins to have known Umar Ibn-La'Ahad back in Alamut that was still of good body necessary for this tradition.

Tomorrow, he would do the same for his oldest son.

Faheem had never interacted with the young Ibn-La'Ahad. Those blindly loyal eyes trained at Al Mualim reminded him too much of Umar, making his mind annoyed and his heart ached in equal measure.

It was a travesty for him to be in charge of the young boy’s first kill. He and Umar had opinions and they were, for most part, on opposite sides. What their brothers call friendship was build on mutual annoyance and the stubborn desire to win against their opponent’s opinions.

Umar had been closer to Ahmad, the man who dogged at Umar’s every step.

But both of them were dead.

And it was small mercies that Ahmad’s boy would be guided by another than Faheem due to scheduling conflicts.

Still…

Faheem could feel a headache coming.

He knew something was wrong the moment they exited Masyaf and went to a nearby woods to hunt, only for a lamb of pure white color to come tumbling out of the bushes and run towards Altaïr, letting out sweet sounds as if trying to talk to the boy.

The boy had froze for a moment and locked eyes with the lamb before he began to pet the animal, slowly at first, seemingly in a trance or just plain confuse by what was happening.

When Faheem said that they were lucky and ordered Altaïr to make it quick and painless, both the boy and the lamb turned towards him with wide eyes.

Faheem felt like he was the villain all of a sudden.

“Altaïr…” Faheem rubbed his face before letting out a sigh.

If it was Malik, he would have told the boy to remember his mission and he knew his son would do it.

If it was Kadar, he would have done the same and his youngest would do it as well with tears streaming down his face, apologizing over and over again.

They would both get over it quickly enough.

But he didn’t know about Altaïr.

All he heard about Altaïr was that he was the best of the recruits and never complained over anything, no matter how hard or unfair training becomes.

But he also saw the way the boy’s face softened and the small smile he gave when he started to pet the lamb.

A bleeding heart was nothing but a weakness in the eyes of the Brotherhood and their master.

It might be harsh but Faheem needed to curb such a weakness before it leads to Altaïr’s downfall.

“Altaïr…” Faheem knew it was not his place to say such things. For a moment, he wished he could curse Umar for accepting his death so easily, “You must throw away what feelings you have for that animal. You cannot afford to be weak.”

Altaïr’s hands trembled before they gripped the lamb’s neck. The lamb stared at him with eyes that made Faheem uncomfortable.

There was intelligence in those eyes.

And understanding.

The lamb shook Altaïr’s hands off and bumped his head against the bow strapped on Altaïr’s back.

A quick death.

Was… was the lamb asking for a quick death?

Faheem stared at the lamb and realized…

Why was it alone?

Why did it approach them?

No.

Why did it approach Altaïr?

Faheem watched as the lamb walked away from them, turning around and letting out a sound towards Altaïr as if…

“Altaïr, wait!” Faheem ordered as Altaïr followed the lamb but the boy did not listen.

The lamb began to run and Altaïr chased after it.

Faheem chased them but the woods seemed to be against him for some reason.

No.

Altaïr was following the lamb’s steps better than him as it led them to the more dense part of the woods.

By the time he caught up to them, he froze when he realized that the lamb had led them to the claws of a wild bear.

There had been sightings of it from worried villagers and the Brotherhood had guessed that bandits had captured it from somewhere but had either left it or they had grown too greedy and the bear managed to escape.

“Altaïr!” Faheem shouted as he ran towards the boy who held the bow in his hands.

Faheem stopped when he noticed the determined expression on the boy’s face as he nocked an arrow.

The lamb was running in circles…

No.

It was bait.

The bear was chasing it and it knew it.

Altaïr fired one arrow, hitting the bear in the eye. He quickly fired another arrow, striking the bear between the eyes.

Altaïr didn’t falter nor slow down, striking the bear on the face with all the arrows he had.

The bear fell on the ground with a loud thump before Altaïr could fire his third to the last arrow.

The lamb slowly made its way towards the bear and tapped its head with a hoof before jumping back quickly. When it didn’t move, the lamb ran towards Altaïr and let out a loud energetic sound.

Altaïr returned the bow to his back before petting the lamb’s head as he said, “The Brotherhood do not accept unnecessary deaths.”

Altaïr turned to stare at Faheem and, for a moment, Faheem saw Umar’s face.

The same annoying face of that idiot who believed in the drivel he was saying with such faith that he would defend it to the bitter end.

“If caring for this one means I am weak…” Altaïr’s determination and stubbornness were clear in his face as he said, “Then I just have to become stronger than anyone else.”

“Strong enough to be weak just this once.”

That wasn’t how it goes.

Faheem knew he should say it but…

Instead, he sighed.

“Protecting the innocents is part of our duty as an Assassin.” Faheem said instead as he rubbed his face.

Ah.

He was getting the same headache he always had when he was dealing with Umar.

How annoying.

He turned around as he said, “It’s your kill so you drag it back to Masyaf.”

The sound that came from the sheep sounded a bit like a thank you.

Faheem shook his head.

He was thinking too hard about this.

If the boy wanted to have a pet lamb…

Faheem wasn’t anything to the boy. He had no say in this.

Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad would have to take care of this himself.

= For those interested in the alchemist that sometimes appears in this tumblr =

“I… I don’t think we’re allowed to deliver any kind of living creature.” The courier said as he looked at the big innocent eyes looking up to him.

“It’s not a real creature.” The alchemist said absentmindedly, seemingly looking for something inside that huge container that was even bigger in the inside, “It’s a golem. Pretty much just clay imitating life.”

“Well this ‘clay imitating life’ looks and acts like a lamb.” The courier countered, “So unless you make the proper arrangement mandatory for shipping live creatures which includes enough food to cover the longest estimate for the entire delivery trip, a cage large enough for the creature to walk around a bit and-”

The alchemist let out a long suffering sigh and went towards the nearby table. They picked up some kind of long ribbon and a piece of paper, quickly writing something in it before walking towards the lamb.

The courier watched in horror, eyes widening and mouth gaping, as the alchemist just… struck their entire arm into the lamb. The lamb didn’t make any noise but there was some kind of squelching sound that made the courier want to gag. The alchemist pulled their arm out and the lamb froze, eyes glazing into nothingness. The alchemist shook their clay-covered hand before covering what seemed to be some kind of wooden trinket in the rough shape of a four-legged creature in their hand with the paper they wrote. Afterwards, they used the ribbon to secure both the paper and the trinket before tying it around the lamb’s neck.

“There.” The alchemist patted the lamb’s head and walked back to the container as they said, “Now it’s just a normal clay statue.”

It looked more like a taxidermy but… the courier wasn’t going to say anything more. He simply sighed and took the… statue… while saying, “I’ll place the order slip on the table before leaving.”

The alchemist simply waved a hand instead of answering him.

He sighed once more.

Thank the stars this was his last stop for today.

#i have nothing #i just this is more like #desmond becomes a pet lamb??? #yeah desmond was strafing the hell out of that bear #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #faheem al sayf #faheem's headaches thy name is ibn-la'ahad #ask and answer #fic idea: assassin's creed #teecup writes/has a plot

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic March 26 – prompt 26: Amortentia – word count 946

Amortentia - The world’s strongest love potion, does not create love but obsession

Remus had feared that particular Potions lesson since the smile on Slughorn’s face when he had announced it.

“Of course, Amortentia’s use is forbidden, and its brewing strictly restricted, therefore you will not learn how to make it,” the Professor had said. “I will brew it personally and you will smell it, because its smell is not only different for everyone but it  also corresponds to the smell of the person you’re most attracted to.”

There had been whispers in the classroom, and the few established couples in their year had smiled at each other.

“Yes, yes, you think you’ll have it easy,” Slughorn had chuckled. “But I’ve seen my fair share of people smelling something completely unexpected in Amortentia, so be warned!”

So now they were gathered around a fuming cauldron, their faces in various degrees of anxiousness.

“Well, come on!” Slughorn clapped his hands. “Who’s first? Mr Potter, be brave! After all, your love for Ms Evans is no secret to anyone!”

James grimaced, but he moved closer to the cauldron all the same.

“I smell…” he took a deep breath. “I smell the Library. And the Quidditch pitch in the sun and…” he hesitated. “Mint tea.”

Remus frowned. He knew Lily’s scent better than anyone thanks the the wolf’s nose, but none of those things belonged to her. He shot a look at James, who immediately looked at his feet.

“Ms McKinnon.”

“I, uhm,” Marlene went beet-red. “Coffee, pencils and peaches.”

“Interesting, wonder who that could be?” Sirius chuckled.

Even Remus remembered that glorious day when Dorcas Meadowes had shown up to the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice and Marlene had flown right into a goalpost when Dorcas had bitten into one of the peaches she had brought along.

“Now now, Mr Black, we don’t tease our classmates about Amortentia,” Slughorn smiled. “You never know what’s in store for you! Ms MacDonald, please.”

Remus swallowed. He knew perfectly well what would happen the second he got a closer whiff of the potion. He would smell leather, or cigarettes, or the firewhiskey he had drunk at that party when Sirius had ended up sitting in his lap and he had realised he was stupidly, desperately and hopelessly in love with him. He would have to lie about it to the whole class.

“Summer breeze, books and… leather?” Mary groaned. “Oh, come on!”

“I know, I’m unforgettable,” Sirius winked at her.

“And to smell like books you would have to open one,” Mary retorted.

Peter was next. He took a deep breath, got suddenly pale, then turned bright red and stumbled back.

“Are you quite alright, Mr Pettigrew?”

“Is it possible to smell more than one person, Professor?” Peter whispered.

“Ah. Yes, it’s happened before. Attraction is variable and not even magic can always determine if there’s only one person for you. What did you smell?”

“Roses, violets and lemons.”

Remus recognised the perfumes Peter’s last three girlfriends had worn and he looked at James. Maybe even what he had smelled belonged to multiple people.

“Mr Lupin, go ahead.”

Remus’s stomach twisted and he braced himself getting closer to the cauldron. But none of the smells he had thought about filled his nose. Instead, other things came up and none were Sirius’s smell.

“Well, Mr Lupin?”

Remus stepped back. He didn’t even have to lie then.

“Fireplace ash, late night rain and gingerbread,” he said.

He looked across the room to Sirius. Sirius was staring back, wide-eyed and pale as a ghost. Remus was about to say something when Sirius stumbled back and suddenly ran out of the classroom. Without even thinking, Remus ran after him. He ran along the dungeon corridors and up the stairs, into the main corridor and almost colliding against Regulus rounding a corner.

“What’s gotten into you two?” Regulus exclaimed, barely managing to not spill his tea.

“Where’s Sirius?”

“Outside, but-”

Remus didn’t stay to hear the rest of the sentence. As he ran towards the castle door, the wolf’s nose registered the smell coming from Regulus’s tea. Mint.

He finally caught up with Sirius at the lake.

“Padfoot?” he panted.

“What you smelled in the Amortentia…” Sirius’s voice was shaking.

“I don’t even know what it was…”

“I do.”

Sirius turned around. His eyes were glistening with tears, and Remus’s heart dropped as he fought with all he had the urge to get closer and take him in his arms and kiss him until he felt better.

“It had just rained the night I ran from my parents’ house,” Sirius said slowly. “When I fell into the Potters’ fireplace Effie had just gotten gingerbread out of the oven.”

“How could I smell your memories, Pads?” Remus whispered.

“Maybe Amortentia works differently on a wolf’s nose. But why did you smell mine specifically, Moony?”

Remus’s shoulders slumped. How he wished now he had smelt what he had prepared himself to and lied about it.

“I…”

“Before class started I sneaked in as Padfoot,” Sirius murmured. “I wanted to see if I smelt something different as a dog.”

“And?”

“I smelled you,” Sirius looked up at him.

Remus’s heart skipped a beat.

“You did?” he breathed. “And what did you smell as you?”

Sirius took a step forward, bringing them so close Remus could almost count all of his eyelashes.

“I don’t care,” he said. “As Padfoot I didn’t smell just things that reminded me of you, Moony. I smelled all of you. I think that’s proof enough.”

Remus started to nod, but then he moved, or Sirius did or they both did and half a second later they were kissing, hanging on each other as if their lives depended on it.

#I mean if Remus has a different nose because of his furry little problem why shouldn't that influence Amortentia too? #Slughorn definitely has too much fun with this lesson every year #also Mary's first two smells were Lily #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #marauders #marauders era #james potter #horace slughorn #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald #lily evans #regulus black #the marauders #the marauders era #just writing (like i'm supposed to live)

[mouschiwrites]

oo that morro one HIT. thank you thank you

if you dont mind, can we get a part 2 with a premise of the day of departed lil short special?

for comfort i mean

Ofc dear!! Sorry this came out sorta long ^^”

Word count: 1.2k

Ninjago - Waiting for Your Morro

Part I here!

When Wu told you that today was all about remembering, there was no doubt that you’d come here. It was somewhere that reminded you of your old love; you spent your early years flying kites with him in this quiet meadow, and in later years he’d impress you with his wind powers by making the long grass flop this way and that.

You slowly tread through the grass, cool and soft in the night air, breathing in familiar scents of grass and wildflowers. You were used to the sky being a vibrant blue, but today it was black and speckled with stars. Still, you could remember everything vividly.

“Y/n, Y/n, are you watching?”

“I’m watching, Morro!”

“Okay, look at—that!”

“Oh wow! Did Wu teach you that?”

“Yup! My training’s going pretty well, eh?”

“Yeah… you’re gonna be a master in no time…”

The innocent dark head of hair flopped to one side quizzically, a sad look coming into those dark eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You won’t forget me when you’re all great and powerful, will you?”

“Y/n, how many times do I have to tell you? It’s you and me, forever and ever! No matter what!”

“I know, but…”

“Shh!” His hands grabbed your face, forcing your gaze up from your feet to his eyes. “When I’m the most powerful ninja, you’re going to be right there beside me. And if you’re not, I’m going to hunt you down and force you to be with me!”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of you at that. “Okay then. But I’d never say no to you.”

“And I’d never let you go anyway.”

You picked a flower bud, still green as it had not bloomed yet, and twisted it between your fingers. You let out a shivering breath and tucked it behind your ear. It stung to remember, but you knew that this was what today was all about.

I refuse to forget you, Morro. Even if it hurts to remember.

You managed to dry the steady flow of tears that came from your eyes on your way back to the museum. You sniffed sharply when you realized you were the last one coming back; the other ninjas were already talking among themselves at the top of the steps.

As you hurried up to meet them, you noticed an air of trouble emulating from their serious faces and grim voices.

You were planning to ask what was wrong, but the looks they gave you when they saw you approaching silenced you before that could happen. They were first surprised to see you, then they each adopted a unique impression of awkwardness. They exchanged knowing looks and grimaced, and Kai kept glancing over behind them.

The way they were standing seemed to be shielding someone, and you guessed that whoever this person was, they were the reason that the ninjas were acting so awkward.

Jay was the first to say something. “Uh, we should be on our way, guys…”

He was met with (almost too eager) responses.

“Yup! Lots to do!”

“We’ll explain later, Y/n. See ya!”

“Bye bye now!”

“Have fun, you kids!”

That last response, which had come from Kai, caught you off guard. You turned to watch the ninjas as they scurried past you, quizzically quirking up your brow.

Suddenly it was all obvious. The final clue had come in the form of a voice, a voice you could never forget, the voice that played in your head whenever there was a second of silence.

“Y/n..?”

You whirled around, eyes huge. And there he was.

Your arms were around each other before either of you could even remember moving, and there was the sound of laughing sobs muffled in cloth as you buried your faces in each other.

“I knew—” you hiccuped, squeezing tighter, “I knew I’d see you again.”

“So did I. Nothing can keep us separated,” he mused, pulling away to give you a mischievous look. It was as if you never spent a day apart.

There was a moment of breathless silence. Morro was looking you over, his eyes shining with pure affection. “You’re beautiful.”

You smiled. “You said that before.”

“I’ll say it again. And again. And again, until the end of time. You’re beautiful,” he squeezed your hand.

You looked down at your interlocked fingers, a twinge of sadness tainting your joy.

“I waited for you, you know. Every day. Every night.”

He blinked at you; you weren’t quite sure if it was because he hadn’t expected such devotion, or if he just hadn’t expected the change in mood.

“I tried to come back. I… I wanted to see you, too.”

“Did you?” Your eyes were teary when they met his, and you looked away shamefully when you saw the same pain in his eyes.

“I did. But… there are rules. Rules that not even I can break. And you know how I like to break rules.”

You let out a weak laugh. “…I understand.”

You felt his fingers under your chin, and you were gently guided back to his gaze.

“Y/n, remember what I said? It’s you and me, forever and ever.”

You laughed again, more genuinely this time, but with tears trickling down your cheeks. “You remember that?”

“I remember everything I promised to you. And I live by those promises. Well, maybe not live anymore,” he smirked, but shook his head to dismiss the little jest. “We may be in different realms, but we’re still tied to each other. And one day, that long cord that separates us will grow shorter, and you’ll be at my side again. We just have to be patient.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you gave the slightest of nods.

“I knew you’d understand… you were always the reasonable one.”

You embraced again, limbs tight around each other. You breathed unsteadily into his shoulder for a long time, trying to collect yourself before facing him again, and at the same time basking in his touch.

When you came apart again you held on to each other’s forearms, your stomachs still pressed together with your faces fervently close.

“You’ve waited for me,” Morro whispered, his dark eyes dripping with wist and admiration, “but this is the last time I can come to you.”

You closed your eyes, your head dropping. Your forehead hit his, and he continued:

“Now it’s my turn to wait for you. And don’t you rush to get to me,” he chided, pressing his forehead firmly into yours in a show of affection. “Just try to live happily, okay?”

“Okay.” The word came out in a quivering rasp that was really not much more than a whisper.

You opened your eyes, finding a profound smile on Morro’s lips that somehow caught on your own face.

You knew it was time to say goodbye, but despite this your tears chose to stop flowing at this moment.

“Hey,” Morro said, clearly as an afterthought that would be the last thing he said to you in a long time, “guess what?”

“What?”

“I love you.”

You found yourself laughing, giving his shoulder a hardy punch as the attitude of old friends once more overtook your demeanor. “You’re an idiot.”

But just as he went to leave, you had to shout: “Hey!”

You knew that there would be no more tears; his promises put a new hope in your heart that far overpowered any sorrow you had. You knew you’d be together again someday, but now you were sure of it. And so you spoke with the voice of someone saying goodbye to a lover they’d see later that same day when you said:

“I love you too.”

Thanks so much for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies!! <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #morro #morro ninjago #morro x reader #morro wu #ninjago fanfiction

[moonlightyong]

“his eyes break into me and i read the deepest envy of his soul on the tip of his tongue. it reads “you”.

– pairing: yuta nakamoto x fem!reader [self-insert reader, written from “I” pov]

– genre: light fluff, mostly suggestive

– wc: 2221 words [one shot]

– warnings: yuta and reader are ridiculously in love AND horny, there’s a lot of sexual tension in there, t e a s i n g, long ass make out session, switch undertones for the both of them (but ig you could say yuta is mostly the one in control), reader is a lil’ brat and our man sir nakamoto absolutely loves it, kinda possessive behavior at some point (?), yuta is a brat tamer who’s disgustingly and desperately enamored with the reader (lucky for him, she also is)

– author’s note: alright alright team, here’s this lil’ piece of writing i came up with not so long ago. i had just watched the bat mv and let’s just say mister nakamoto got me weak… next thing u know, i was writing this lil’ thingy and getting mentally consumed by the idea of [red-haired, biker, dressed in all black] yuta nakamoto. anyway, feedback is highly appreciated and without further ado; enjoy!!

– playlist:

the bat – nct u

blinding lights – the weeknd

into it – chase atlantic

half of my heart – josh makazo

crazy in love – sofia karlberg

I can still feel his hot breath there. It’s like tattooed on the bridge of my neck. He owns every pulse of my body, as small and discreet as they may be. He knows he’s the maestro of every sound I utter at unholy hours of the night. His eyes, dark and unpredictable, pierce through me, through the veil of my soul and read all of my secrets. The secrets I have for myself, for strangers and for the world. He knows my body like a handmade map, one he would’ve solely drawn in a dream of his; like the back of a hill, of a secluded meadow submerged by lilies and daffodils in the backyard of someone. Maybe I should’ve kissed him longer. Maybe I should’ve held him longer.

I’m accustomed to his taste, a cherry-like tint tattooed in the back of my brain. His handprints grew canyons in the anchor of my hips and I shiver every time my fingers graze against those haphazard souvenirs. His catchy lips burn crimson paint like candle wax on my skin and it’s so hard to feel regretful of them once the morning comes. The moonlight taints his body like a second skin and I feel even more enamored with him once his shadow is overcast with the glazing colors of the moon. His brown irises burn through me with hope and love and I glance back at him with empty promises of eternity. His name is engraved somewhere on my elbow and mine is forever mingled with the strings of his heart. I breathe in and he breathes out. We look at each other through heavy eyelids and find peacefulness in our embrace. I trace the pale skin of his left arm and imagine myself laying there for the rest of my days. He kisses the top of my head and puts a rebellious strand of hair behind my ear. And then, we both know we’ll do it all over again tomorrow.

[03:58 a.m]

Johnny’s House, Hongdae District

His rough hands find their way around my waist like the way back home. His lips instinctively pepper soft kisses down the stream of my neck; a way to greet me, a way to soften my mind. And, right as a familiar wind of warmth unravels in the deepest part of my lower body, he gives me the signal my whole being has been awaiting —and he secretly has been waiting for as well— : “Let’s go”. And just like that, we’d leave our friends behind at whatever party we were at and hop on his dark red Kawasaki. We ride into the night, the darkness of the city falling upon us like a cape and the blinding lights of high buildings and streetlights guiding us towards our sinful destination. And, just like every other night, I’d end up with my back pressed against his off-white wall as his hands would roam around my body, senselessly yet meaningfully. Then, his long fingers would take hold of my face and have me look up at him. A fire glances back at me from the depth of his gaze and, although I’m afraid I’d get burnt if I dared catch it, an irreproachable force in the seed of my soul pushes me to get closer and graze said fire. And I do. I get on my tippy-toes and press a kiss on the borders of his lips. Such an act, I suppose, is enough to light up the flame in his core. His hands hold my face tighter, closer, as if I was a dove and he was afraid I’d fly away if he were to loosen his grip for even a second. His soul bleeds in the grip of my touch and I paint his mouth with colors of my own. Each step we take brings us closer to the other, each grasp on each other’s body is a bit more powerful, leaving us with an unrivalled longing for the other’s touch. His eyes break into me and I read the deepest envy of his soul on the tip of his tongue. It reads “You”.

The epitome of desire rises in us like a treasured sunrise and all we’re thinking of is how to have all of each other at once. His fingers then trace along the lines of my body like a sacred poem, one he would recite to the stars every night right before heading to the land of faded dreams. I get lost in the overwhelming sensation of him, waiting, anticipating and craving for more. And, by the sole flutter of my eyelashes followed by a sound his soul cherishes, oh, so much, he gets the hint of what it is that I desire more than anything on this lonely night. The amber resting in the chambers of his onyx gaze then catches fire, like it was always meant to. A pleading sign of authorization flashes through his inky eyes and I, reading him like a book my past self wrote fifty-thousand years ago, start unbuttoning his dark shirt. The feeling of his rough skin melting upon my soft fingertips somewhat feels like an oxymoron, and yet, it’s like they’ve always belonged there. I patch up the torn areas of his skin with a stamp of my lips, so that he can remember me when I’m gone, so that I can find my way back there later on.

Slowly but surely, I make my way down the column of his torso, leaving purple-tinted evidence of my existence on the lands of his body. His wondrous whispers encourage me to keep going on my quest, to sow more seams of my eternal love for him on the road of ecstasy. And when I nibble a tempting patch of skin right under his symbolic butterfly tattoo at the extremity of his left side and then latch my tongue to underline the now bruised golden skin, I feel him shiver under my touch. Pride dances a waltz with the corners of my mouth right as an enchanting melody leaves the trenches of his throat. The simple consequences of what I’ve done to his body paired with the view of me kneeling right before him creates a dark tornado birthed in a cracked abyss of pleasure at the pit of his core.

A phantom aura of hopelessness and helplessness rejoicing in the definition of “skinny love” wavers above him, slowly lingering across his singular features. “The things you do to me…” A mumble just as loud as a whisper resonates in the house and in my inner walls, deep within. I look up at him, his enamored expression scratching my soul with melancholy and his gaze holding mine captive for the better. He looks disheveled in a metaphorical sense, a cry for surrender glistening in the catacombs of his eyes. I crack a smile at his state, the state I put him in. Suddenly, he grabs my forearms and puts me back up. We’re facing each other again, an electrifying tension, murderous to the touch, moving between our aching bodies. I look up at him with the word ‘challenge’ spelled out in my irises, reflecting the dilemma in his own. The daring glaze in my stare does not miss him and I’m standing there, anxiously and impatiently waiting for him to do something, anything. Yet, the ruined look flickering at the surface of the charcoal pool that are his eyes alert me of something; he still is bewitched by my touch, he still wants more of me. As a grin takes over my features, his are still soft with a newly found drop of harshness right in the middle. His silk-like hands wrap around my jawline like the clouds gently welcome the night sky after dusk and then, astonishingly, he pulls my face closer to his in a harsh tug. “You know you drive me crazy, don’t you, angel?” He no longer looks wrecked. The previously ruined look shining in his eyes had set and let a newly yet familiar assertive look rise in their premises. I swallow, hard. It is now his turn to grin.

Goosebumps cover my entire skin and my heartbeat is having a race against the million thoughts running through my mind. Yuta, on the opposite, looks pretty confident. Serene, even. And yet, as scared as I look, a wave of excitement is crashing against my chest and a flash of desire is coursing through my mellow eyes. Yuta’s own eyes catch with amusement, cling onto that hint delivered by my deepest self. And, in less than a second it takes to let out a breath, to think a thought, his lips crash into mine. It’s a kiss fueled by hunger, by lust, by mesmerism. Our bodies are trapped in an endless kind of colliding, yet, our souls feel like we’re barely touching. They need more. We need more. In a sudden rush, he takes off my tank top and I’m more than content by his action. His hands start roaming freely on my body, exploring a location he knows like the back of his hand. He lets the weight on his eyelids get the best of him as his mind, heart and soul get lost in the crevices of my essence. Yuta, as the cocky motherfucker that he is, is sure of many things. But one thing he is the most certain of is that nobody on this earth knows my body like he does. He is sure he could paint it; curves and bones, flesh and light, even the smallest details like that mole I have right under my left eye. And I don’t doubt him on that.

Once his eyes flutter back open, I’m greeted by an amorous glint in them. He looks at me like he held the whole world right there, in the palms of his hands, and whispers in a tone that could only be painted in honey: “I was made for you, love”. His hands caress the outlines of my face in the softest way known to mankind and the love he has in his eyes deepen, “And you…” His right hand lands a sharp slap on my behind, making me let out a shaky whine, not expecting the sudden change in his behavior yet not minding it a bit. I then jump up and he catches me in a steady hold, wrapping my legs around him as his hands ease the dazzling, scarlet-tinted stinging on my ass. His grip tightens and I can perfectly feel the flexing of his arms around me, a dizzying warmth taking over my whole being. This sudden act and incredulous proximity result in our foreheads ending up against each other. As his eyes bore into mine, he mutters in a hoarse voice: “You were made for me”. His slow breath rakes across the skin on my face like a cold yet welcoming breeze.

And as I’m getting accustomed to the growth of serenity and tenderness in the hollow of his eyes, I unexpectedly feel a demonic tingle in the soil of my bottom lip. Yuta had bitten it, leaving an iron taste behind and soothing it with delicate kisses. Said kisses slowly but surely grow into a more passionate, inflammable and straining one. I can feel my skin tingling and my five senses are tremendously alert. I rake my fingers through his long, red hair and tug at the ends. This single action takes him by surprise and has him dropping his head down, letting out a low growl against my neck. He then smirks —either in an attempt to hide the effect I have on him or because of the tiny whimper I just failed to hold captive behind my lips. I instinctively graze my nails against the lanes of his back the moment I feel him shift against me. My doing on his back must’ve been doing wonders because his eyes dive into mine with a darkness of their own; a warning one. A warning for what is about to come, a forethought of what I had gotten myself into. And this kind of threat makes my body shudder with contemplation. Therefore, I decide to push his buttons even more. I look back at him with a tint of innocence, of obliviousness, and flutter my eyelashes at him as my hand brushes a specific place down south where I know he needs me the most.

I never, ever knew his ebony eyes could get a shade darker until I’ve seen it right there, with my own two eyes. And, as I expected, my plan is a success. The purity swimming around in my irises sends him over the edge. And, without breaking eye-contact with me, Yuta pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue —a dear habit of his. However, during this moment, it feels more frightening —and a tiny bit more exciting— than usual. “You like torturing me baby, don’t you?” His low tone bears a glimpse of playfulness in it, yet, it’s a mischievous one. He definitely has something in mind. And if his arched eyebrow and the whimsical glint in his eyes weren’t indicative of it, his next words definitely are.

“Well, it’ll be my pleasure to teach you how to behave”.

hope u enjoyed reading this one shot! don’t hesitate to tell me ur thoughts about it, it’d be an honor to read them :]

★彡

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct x reader #yuta nakamoto #yuta x reader #yuta nakamoto x reader #suggestive #one shot

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Timeless - Part 4: "In The 1500's, Off In A Foreign Land"

"If I first saw your face in the 1500's off in a foreign land, and I was forced to marry another man, you still would've been mine..."

Summary: It's the kind of love you find once in a lifetime, the kind of love you don't put down, and somehow, you know you would've found each other in every life.

'Timeless' Chapter List | The Grumpy Sunshine Series

Your eyes flutter shut as the summer breeze fills your lungs. You grip the stone balcony with all the strength you can muster.

"Your highness," Bucky announces himself.

"James, please, spare the formalities," you halfheartedly beg of him. You both knew what was coming. You couldn't bear the cold formality in his voice reminding you. "We're alone out here."

Spare the formalities, he does not.

He softly inhales, holding his head high and his jaw tight, "Your highness, the guests will be arriving shortly."

You pay him no mind, instead, you stare out into the garden. The one that held all those stolen moments, lingering touches, and longing glances. "The garden looks particularly beautiful this time of night, doesn't it?"

"Your betrothed," he pointedly remarks as though to remind you that you were never his to begin with, "...will be here shortly."

"James... please."

He can't stop himself from taking his place by your side when he hears the plea in your voice. He knows he'd be killed if someone caught him here in this moment with you. Still, he takes your hand, grazing over your fingers in tender strokes.

It's the last time he'll ever have you like this. He may as well make the most of it.

He glances over to you, his gaze soft and swimming with despair, "We've always known this would happen."

You shake your head so softly, Bucky can't be sure that it isn't just the warm summer breeze playing tricks on his mind. You hold your head high, but your voice wavers, betraying the regal facade, "Please, don't."

It breaks him. It tears him apart that he's hurt you because he wasn't strong enough to resist falling in love.

He took the most sacred of oaths. He was supposed to protect you.

Mind, body, soul.

Mind, body, soul, and heart.

He broke that. It was his turn to be strong, to walk away so you didn't have to. He tears his own hand away, "I'll let your ladies know you're ready for your evening gown."

"James," you call after him. "James!"

Your only response is the door snapping shut followed by a loud resounding silence. And then, there's just nothing. A nothingness that sweeps over everything, your world becoming a shade of bleak you've never known. 

You stand so still on the balcony, silent tears streaming down your cheek. You hardly notice your ladies entering your room. You don't move from your spot on the balcony, the spot where he left you for the very last time.

One of your ladies taps on your shoulder, she curtsies before you, "Your highness, are you quite alright?"

"I suppose I'm anxious," you halfheartedly chuckle, wiping away the tears. "I don't - I don't truly know what will become of me tonight."

"He's a good man from what I've heard. The servants say that he treats them well, he has a good heart. He will be a good ruler and a good husband."

You look over your shoulder, offering a soft smile, "Thank you."

"We should get you dressed. They'll be expecting you shortly."

You nod, allowing them to slip the off white gown on you. It's a beautiful gown, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't select it specifically for Bucky's eyes.

There was a time not long ago, a time when you were young and naive, full of hopeless love and a head full of fantasies of a triumphant, timeless love, that you would dream together.

Hand in hand, you would lie in your private meadow and dream. Dreams of one day walking down the aisle to Bucky. Dreams of wearing a gown that would take his breath away. Dreams whispered for only him to hear. Dreams carried away in the night.

Going through the motions off getting prepared make your chest feel more hollow than you thought ever possible. If you listen closely, you swear you can hear the summer breeze whistling through the hole torn through your heart.

By the end of the hour, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You look beautiful. And yet, you feel more empty than ever before. 

It feels like a death march, walking from your bedroom chamber to the ballroom. You've never met the man you were promised to before. You don't know anything about him except what your ladies in waiting knew.

You know it wouldn't matter anyway. You could know everything about him. You could know him from head to toe. You could know his heart, his mind, his soul, and he would never compare. He couldn't compete with the man that held your heart.

Your guards trail you behind with one notable absence. Bucky. The head of your security. Your most trusted protector. One of the most senior members of the Royal Guard.

Long before either of you knew civility, you knew him as that bright eyed little boy. Once a little boy wandering the grand halls of the palace, he followed in his father's steps, becoming an invaluable knight. It was somewhere in that time he became your own knight in shining armor.

He held your heart long before he commanded soldiers, long before your father appointed him to your security detail. He was the person you trusted most. Your confidante. The one person who spoke freely to you. 

You walk past the garden. It was always your favorite place in the palace. The place where you first saw those blue eyes. Even at such a young age, your heart knew. He would always be yours.  Even if fate would not allow it, even if destiny tore you apart, your soul would always belong to him. All those nights, sneaking out to the garden. You would be dead if anyone knew. He would be dead if anyone knew. 

You don't even realize you're being presented to your betrothed until your name is bellowed through the ballroom. Gilded from top to bottom, you can the ballroom from the very top of the grand staircase, Bucky is nowhere to be found. 

You walk down the staircase alone. Your heels click against the smooth marble. You hold your head high, face unflinching and stoic. The face of a future queen. The face of a woman that just lost the great love of her life. 

There is nothing remarkable about the man you're to marry. Nothing but the crown resting atop his head - a crown you weren't the least bit interested in. His words sound like a dull buzz in your ear. His eyes flat and dull. Even his kind smile is but a spark to the flame you shared with Bucky. Perhaps, in another life you could learn to love him. It's a lie, you realize. In those other lives, your heart belongs to Bucky too.

You can't do this, you decide in the moment the dinner is finished. You can't promise yourself to another man knowing that you'd lose the love of your life. You could do without the crowns, without the jewels, without any of it, you would give it all away if it meant you could have him. You can't go about your life without Bucky. 

You wait until the cloak of night. And then you go after what you can't live without. 

You stand in his room all alone. He's not here. Nowhere to be found. You curl your hands into fists, determined to wait for him all night. Consequences be damned. You're not but a few moments into your rumination when you hear footsteps in the corridor.

The moment his lantern illuminates the room, he gasps, his hand flinching towards his sword. He sighs, sheathing his sword when he sees it's you. His face is cold and distant as he speaks to you, "You shouldn't be here, your highness."

"I do not love him."

"You will learn to love him," Bucky dryly insists. "We must get you back before-"

"No," you forcefully interject. "I will not. My heart belongs to another. My heart belongs to you."

"We can never be," he speaks through gritted teeth, his trembling hands tightly clenched. "You are the princess. You will one day be queen. I am sworn to protect the crown that will rest on your head. That is our duty."

"Tell me," you softly exhale. "Tell me you do not feel the same."

"I -" He can't bring himself to say the words. 

"Please, so that we may fulfill our duties," you beg. "Tell me."

"You know I cannot."

"Then tell me why you run."

"You know why."

You furiously shake your head, "I do not."

"I cannot give you the life you deserve. Even if I could, your future does not lie with me, a mere commoner. I am but a man sworn to protect you. My place is not and will never be by your side."

You bitterly chuckle, "You truly think so lowly of yourself?"

"No." He shakes his head. His eyes flash over to you, finally his gaze softens, "Perhaps I think of you only in the highest regard, in the highest esteem, far higher than I could ever reach."

"You do not see yourself clearly. You are what I cannot live without. You are what I cannot bear to lose."

Bucky takes your hand, squeezing it tightly, "You love your people. You love this land."

"I love you."

"As I love you..." He cups your face, tenderly stroking your cheek, "There is no other heir. With your mother passed on, what will become of our people if we leave them defenseless and without a ruler?"

"I've read our constitution, there is nothing proclaiming I must marry of royal bloodline."

"Your father would never allow it. I would lose my head for even thinking of such impropriety."

"I am the sole heir. I will be queen."

"Yes."

"I will not allow myself to be torn between my love for my people and my love for you."

"We all have our cross to bear."

"Then let me bear mine. I will speak to my father. I will make him see. I will rule with you at my side or I will rule alone and our bloodline will die with me."

"You cannot -"

"I can."

"Am I truly worth risking the wrath of your father, the wrath of our king?"

"You are worth everything to me." 

You find your father first thing the next morning. He sits surrounded by his advisors, the same advisors that convinced your father to promise you to the neighboring country.

You knew you were not unique in this situation. You were not alone when your heart and duties were pulling you apart at the seams. You knew few loves ever triumphed. Few could overcome such pressure. And even fewer survived with two intact.

You shudder at the thought of Bucky paying the price for falling in love with you. You were both so young when you first saw him. So young and so naive.

Regardless, you stand tall. This was a love worth the fight. A love that would endure. A love that would be timeless.

"Father," you curtsy before him. "I must speak with you at once."

"Leave us." He raises a hand in dismissal. As gentle and benevolent as your father could be, he could also be stern and unflinching in his mind. People don't question your father. People don't question the king. The advisors scurry out of the throne room without another word."Is something troubling you, my dear?"

You nod, swallowing your fear for Bucky's sake. "There is something I must discuss with you."

Wonder burns in your father's eyes. "Go on."

"I am afraid I cannot proceed with the betrothal," you firmly state, your voice as cool and unwavering as steel.

He quirks an eyebrow, his eyes blown wide, "I beg your pardon?"

"I cannot marry him. I do not love him."

"You will learn to love him."

You can't count how many people have told you something similar. Hundreds since your betrothal over a decade ago. Even then, you were hopelessly in love with Bucky. "My heart belongs to another."

"An infatuation is not - "

"It is no infatuation," you explode. "I spent life loving this man. I love him with all my heart. I will not lose him. Allow him to rule beside me when the day arrives."

Your father leans forward, his gaze bearing down on you, "And what of our alliance? Your betrothal? Imagine the scandal!"

"We can ally ourselves without my hand in marriage," you reply, speaking each syllable as calmly and carefully as your most revered diplomats. "Our land is bountiful. Our people are strong."

"You love this gentleman?"

"I do."

"And who, pray tell, is this man?"

You lower your head. This was the part you feared most. Risking the life of the one you love with every fiber of your being. You reminded yourself that there was a plan. One you spent all night constructing. He was waiting on the outskirts of your meadow, if it didn't go well, you'd run away and leave it all behind. For him. "James. James Barnes."

"The head of your personal guard?"

You don't allow your voice to waver. "Yes."

"And what if I had him executed for this treason?"

"This was no treason, Father!" you speak with an intensity that you've never dared to before. Your chest heaves with panic. This was it. The moment where you lost or gained everything. "I have loved him from the moment I saw him when we were children. I would never forgive you. You would lose your sole heir."

"You would forsake your land, your people, for him?"

Without a breath of hesitation, you nod, "Yes."

Your father sucks in a breath. It was unlike you. You were the perfect portrait of an heir. With the death of your mother, people looked to you to see a steady hand and a reasonable mind. He almost forgot that somewhere buried in your sense of responsibility, was a heart that was entirely your own. "I see."

You reach for your father's hand, holding it tightly, "He is a good man. A good man who has devoted his life to the Crown."

"You cannot marry an untitled man."

"Father, please -"

"Let me finish," he stops you. "You cannot marry an untitled man, but I cannot lose my only daughter."

"Thank you, Father." You don't bow to him this time. This time, you rush towards him, throwing your arms around him. "Thank you."

"I loved your mother the way you love him," he whispers for you to hear. "I would have given it all away for her. Everything except you."

Tears well in your eyes. You squeeze his hand one last time. "Thank you."

You don't waste another moment before you run to Bucky. You find him anxiously pacing the meadow, the sunlight making his blue eyes look more brilliant than any flower you've ever seen.

His breath catches the moment he sees you running towards him. Down the cobblestone path he's spent years watching you from. He run towards you, meeting you in the center of the meadow you turned into his haven.

The moment you're close enough to touch, his hands grip your waist. His wild eyes rake over you, "Your highness..."

You throw your arms around him, "I love you."

"Your father?"

You nod into the crook of his neck. "He understands."

He breaths a sigh of relief. And for the first time since your betrothal was announced, he feels hope bloom in his heart. He pulls back, his hand pushing away the stray hair from your face. His chest heaves, his heart overwhelmed with the one dream he never dared to believe would come true. His eyes bore into yours gleaming and twinkling, so inviting you have no choice but to jump in. "Our love will be timeless, I swear it."

And it was.

On the dreaded day your father's long reign ended, and you became the queen you were born to be. He was there, holding your hand, holding you steady, by your side where he belonged.

Yours was a story of triumph, a story of hope, a love story turned into folklore, destined to be passed down from generation to generation.

Your love would last forever. A tale as timeless one could be.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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