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yandere-writer-momo · 7 days

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Yandere Head Canons:

The Wishing Well

Yandere Kraken x Fem Reader

TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, monster fucking, etc

When you were a child, you were often told about a wishing well deep within a sea cave. A well that would grant you any wish your heart desired so long as you made a deal of equal standing with the magical creature that resided in it. Yet most of your fellow villagers said the price was always worth more than what you desired… and the forest was extremely dangerous.

There was a tale about a king who had wished for more riches, yet he returned from the well with no hands so he could no longer hold the gold he had so foolishly sought out.

There was another tale of a woman who went to the well to wish for a child, yet she returned from the well with a round stomach. The villagers all said her baby was a monster.

You were told only one good story about the well. A story of a man who had went to the well to wish for his wife’s health to improve. A hopeless romantic, your peers called him. A man who successfully made a wish and had his wife healed from her incurable disease… yet he never returned from that well. The villagers all assumed the worse, that he sacrificed his own life for his lover…

These stories terrified you as child so you never really thought about the well. At least not until you reached adulthood, anyways. When your village was being threatened by orcs from foreign lands. Your village would perish if they didn’t surrender all of their women to the invaders.

Your villages population was mostly elderly people so there were only ten options of women to send off and you were one of them. You didn’t want to be the whore of an invader, you wanted to marry your lover, Valo… a handsome young man who lived by the seaside on his own. He was a bit eccentric, but you could see yourself with him.

There was only one way to save yourself and your village. And that would be to use the well.

And so you journeyed deep into the frozen sea cave on your quest to liberate your land. Your hopes high despite the small bit of dread that pooled into your stomach. The price shouldn’t be too bad… no. It didn’t matter what the price was. Because you’d rather die than lose your dignity.

Your journey took over three hours, but you finally stood in front of the old well. It was so much larger than the stories had described… and it seemed bottomless from how pitch black the water was.

“H-hello? I’m here to make a wish.” You yelped when a masked face popped up from the well. The man’s muscular upper torso leaned on the edge of the well to stare at you.

“A wish?” The man’s voice was raspy, almost as if he hadn’t spoken in eons. “I haven’t received a wish yet… okay. I’ll grant your wish if I like it.”

What did this man mean by that? Was he the creature of the well? You tried to see what was behind the man’s upper torso yet it was impossible to get around this man.

“No need to be shy. I want to hear what your wish is. You’re the first human I have seen.” Oh? But this well has been here for generations… perhaps the creature within it changed every so often?

“I’m here to save my village from invaders.” You gasped when he grabbed your jaw to tilt your head towards him.

“How noble… I don’t believe that’s all you want though. You’re hesitant.” The man chuckled at your flushed cheeks. “Are you afraid of me?”

You cast your gaze to the floor which made the man burst into laughter. “Goodness! How fun! Please be honest or else you had made this journey for naught.”

“The other girls and I will be sacrificed to the invaders to be… to be their wives or slaves.” Your voice is so soft yet it echoed throughout the icy cave. “Please help my village! I don’t want to be with someone I don’t love-“

You felt your heart stop when the man’s masked face was now only a few inches from yours. His violet eyes studied your form in interest before he sat up. “You’re not lying and I find you quite pretty.”

The man snapped his fingers and a contract appeared from thin air, the words written on it were in an olden tongue you couldn’t grasp. “I will grant your wish but you must sign this contract. I don’t want you to butt out of our end of the deal.”

“Deal?” You’re puzzled by the man who laughed at your gobsmacked expression.

“Duh. Wishes aren’t for free otherwise more people would come to me.” The man nodded his head at her.

“But what is it that you want from me?” You asked the man who merely gave you a smirk.

“I’ll tell you once your little invader issue is resolved. Until then, you’re free to go about your life.” You bit your lip but ultimately signed, the man quickly snatched up the contract as his body spun in circles in the pitch black water of the well. “I’m thrilled! It’s been so long since I’ve had company…”

The man turned to her with a grin. “You said you’ll only be with someone you love, right?”

“Yes?” The man nodded his head and snapped his fingers, the contract disappeared into thin air.

“Then it’s settled. I will collect you when the time is right.” The man then waved you away as you made your long journey home. The man was now absolutely giddy. Was this how his mother felt when she met his father all those centuries ago? He was so happy that you were indeed the one.

You did go about your life and was surprised to hear how a kraken destroyed the invaders’ ships. It was a terrifying site to see the dismembered bodies and ship wreckage on the frozen shores of your home… yet it was satisfying. Everyone was safe, just as promised.

There was no longer the threat of foreign invaders… which meant you were able to spend more time with your lover. The violet haired man beamed at you when he invited you to walk on the icy beach with him.

“Once winter is over, why don’t we get married?” Valo blushed when you took his hand in yours. “The sea is always bursting with life in the summer…”

“I’d love to.” The two of you giggled in bliss. Yet you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that the man from the well would call upon you soon to pay off your end of the deal…

After that day with Valo, you were plagued with nightmares of a creature from the deep. A violet kraken that wrapped its tentacles around your small body and plunged you into the depths of the dark ocean. The tendrils would squeeze you in ways that were salacious. The violet appendages would shove their way down your throat and into your poor hole. It was such a terrifying nightmare, one that always felt so real.

You’d often wake up with sore arms, legs, and sometimes sore nether regions from these dreams. Perhaps you should spend more time with Valo? Your lover always made you feel more comfortable…

And it was now summer! The two of you were going to get married soon, anyways. It wouldn’t hurt to see Valo…

And so you went to your lover’s home on the shore. Your fellow villagers quirked a brow at you. They never knew why you went to the beach so often with a smile on your face since you always came back empty handed.

No one had lived on that shore for centuries after the fisherman disappeared to save his wife at the well in the sea cave.

“Valo?” You approach the violet haired man who gives you a bright smile. His violet eyes eerily shine under the moonlight as his body remained half submerged in the sea.

“My dear, it’s time to pay off your debt.” You freeze when you hear the familiar voice of the man from the well leave Valo’s throat. “You said you’d only be with someone you love, so it’s time for you to pay your dues.”

You scream when violet tentacles shoot out from the murky water and wrap around you. What? But… how? These were the tentacles from your nightmares. The violet tendrils that wrapped themselves skeins your pliable body when you were in dream world… the tendrils that fucked you.

“V-Valo?!”

“I’m sure you’ll love our new home… it isn’t often a kraken finds their mate.”

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laurenairay · 20 days

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Got me in the palm of your hand - M. Tkachuk

Summary: Wedding preparations are always emotional.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: mild angst

A/N: I love this song and I just felt inspired to write a little something. Enjoy!

Title from I don’t dance, by Lee Brice

I'll never settle down, That's what I always thought, Yeah, I was that kind of man, Just ask anyone, I don't dance, but here I am.

“How many more of these do we need to make?”

“Seeing as your family has about a 1000 people in it, we are barely a quarter way through,” you mused.

Taryn just groaned, throwing her head back dramatically.

“I love you, and I love Matty, but I am never doing this again,” she muttered.

“Hopefully I’ll never have to do it again either,” you teased.

That was the thing about weddings – there were a hundred things to do and nowhere near enough time to do them. Taryn had volunteered to come over to help you assemble the table centrepieces while Matthew and Brady went to pick up their tailored suits, and now that you’d finally sorted out the table plan, it was time to figure out decorations. It didn’t matter that Matthew was more than happy to splash the cash and hire professionals to take care of everything – there were just some things that needed a personal touch. Table centrepieces were easy enough, and what you’d been putting together wasn’t difficult, but with the amount of guests you’d invited? Turns out there were a lot of tables needing decorations.

“You know, I never thought he’d settle down,” Taryn said suddenly.

You inhaled sharply as her words sunk in, dread cutting through your body.

“What?”

You turned your head, frowning at your soon-to-be sister-in-law’s words.

“Do you want to elaborate on that, Taryn?” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

She flushed deeply, grimacing at your reaction, but you held firm. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known Matthew’s reputation when you’d first started dating him, the serial dater-and-heartbreaker, but to hear that from his sister? You couldn’t deny it stung a little.

“I really don’t know how to answer without digging myself a hole?” she admitted.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You knew she wasn’t malicious or spiteful or even mean, but you needed more than that.

“I need you to say something, Tar, because right now my head is saying that this is Matty’s way of sneakily saying that he doesn’t want to get married.”

Because that was exactly what you were preparing for right now – the wedding that was only a month away. So the last thing you needed was the doubt that Matthew wasn’t as all in as you were – you needed to know.

“Oh my god, no, no way,” Taryn said quickly, shaking her head, “He absolutely 100% wants to marry you. That isn’t it at all.”

You let out a breath that was far shakier than you thought it would be and nodded. That was a slight relief at least. Still, you waited her out, needing her to finish her thoughts before you spiralled all over again. Matthew held your whole heart and for that brief moment that heart had started to crumble. Nothing had ever felt like that before.

“Matthew is a hopeless romantic at his core,” she eventually said, “You know that, everyone knows that. But he had such high standards for the person he envisioned spending the rest of his life with that I guess he figured he’d never find that perfect person, so he just dated casually, right?”

“Okay…”

You could see where she was going with this, so you nodded your encouragement.

“He dated casually, and often less than even calling it dating, all things I know you two have already talked about because he told me and Brady that he’d told you it all. It turned into him putting on a front, creating this image of someone who wasn’t a romantic, who didn’t invest himself in any relationship and it sucked seeing him that way. We just wanted him to be happy, you know? So when he started talking about you? We knew something had changed.”

“Really?” you found yourself asking.

Taryn grinned widely, making you laugh. “Yeah, really really. It took him a while, I’ll admit, old habits and all I suppose, but when he properly started talking about you? About all the dates and how beautiful you were and the way you were clearly filling all the voids in his life? Me and Brady were buzzing. When he finally told mom about you after that date he took you dancing? That was it, I knew you were it for him. He never dances for anyone. So yeah, I never thought he’d settle down because he wanted that fairytale. But he’s found that with you.”

The tears that filled your eyes didn’t hesitate to trickle down your cheeks, a soft whimper tearing from your throat before you could stop it. No-one had ever told you that’s how Matthew had spoken about you. And that was when she knew you were it for Matthew? That was years ago.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t tell Matty I made you cry,” Taryn said, panicking.

“Happy tears, I promise. Happy tears,” you replied, shaking your head.

You wiped your face with sleeves, no doubt smearing mascara everywhere, laughing wetly as you tried to compose yourself. It didn’t matter how long you’d known the Tkachuk family – one of them always managed to catch you off-guard. And to think, soon enough, you’d be one of them.

Wasn’t that a thought?

“I’m really sorry. I’ve made an ass of myself and I really didn’t mean to,” Taryn mumbled.

That self-deprecating look on her face was so familiar that it made your chest ache, and you wasted no time in pulling her into a hug. Taryn immediately hugged you back, firm and loving, a Tkachuk family trait, making you laugh softly.

“I think this calls for a drink,” you said, once you’d eventually pulled away.

“Shit yeah, I’ll get us some beers.”

As Taryn walked out of the room, you unlocked your phone, tapping through to your message thread with Matthew.

To: Matty I love you. So much.

You didn’t have to wait long for a reply, phone buzzing within minutes.

From: Matty I love you more. So much more than Brady. He keeps whining that he’s hungry even though we ate two hours ago. How do you feel about sushi for dinner? I can pick up your favourites on my way home?

Yeah you really couldn’t wait to marry this man.

Spinnin' you 'round and 'round in circles, It ain't my style, but I don't care, I'd do anything with you anywhere, Yes, you got me in the palm of your hand, 'Cause I don't dance.

#my writing #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fanfic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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elfy-elf-imagines · 10 months

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Lost in the Labyrinth of my Mind | Legolas Greenleaf

▹ Pairing: Legolas x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff and Pining

▹ Words: ~4k

▹ Summary: The two times you realized you loved Legolas, and the one time you acted on it.

▹ Notes: I would like a reward, I've posted two times in a year 🙂🙃 But seriously, thank you for all the support and love in my last oneshot, you all had me giggling and twirling my hair with my feet kicked up.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Little has made sense lately.

Thrust into a world so unlike your own everything was disorienting. Now you were living in the world that closely mimicked the Middle Ages you’d only read about. The first year hidden in Imladris had felt like the morning after a jarringly realistic dream. Spots blurred your vision and you were half convinced nothing was even real. In fact, you still weren’t fully convinced this was anything more than a grand delusion. Your memory was spotty and the days passed in a haze, so maybe that's why you volunteered to join the Fellowship as a healer.

It was dangerous, you knew, but those fears were quelled with the notion that death would mean it all had been real afterall. Either you come home a hero or have a firm grasp on what’s reality, even if that’s in death.

Dawn broke, the sun cresting high in the sky, but it was barely seen over the mountains. They seemed to close in, threatening to crush you and your companions, the falling snow ensuring your bodies would stay on the floor. There was a burn in your legs from the steep incline as the Fellowship hiked up the mountains. Even after a night of restless respite, your body still aches. You wouldn’t falter though, even as the tips of your fingers turned blue and your skin became as cold as ice. As the only woman in the company, you refused to be the one to stop first. Stubborn pride was all that kept you moving forward.

Somewhere in between the hobbits was where you found your spot in the marching order. You were content enough to slide in and out of their conversations, at least, the parts of the conversation that could be heard over the deafening wind. But even their chirper disposition seemed to wilt under the harsh weather that seemed to get worse the higher up the Fellowship got.

Your eyes slid towards Legolas, a shining gold beacon amongst the frost. His hair was like the last rays of sunlight, the smile on his face as warming as a roaring fire. Seamlessly he weaved between the members of the Fellowship, seemingly unbothered by the snow. His footsteps were so light, he didn’t even leave a footprint in his wake. Unlike your travel companions, he seemed mostly unbothered by the pelting snow and frigid air. The cloak he wore, lighter than yours, seemed to be for show rather than practical use.

It was obnoxious how distracting he could be. If you weren’t careful, you would stare at him for hours on end, mouth hung open like an idiot. It was humiliating, the amount of times you’d made a fool of yourself while in his presence. The teasing from Elladan and Elrohir had been endless.

Yet as much as you’d hate to admit it, the flutter of your heart or the giddiness that puts a skip in your step were all sensations you reveled in. Always a hopeless romantic, even as previous partners tarnished your silver-plated optimism, you loved being in love. Except, you weren’t in love, you couldn’t be. And in the depths of night, while the stars hung high and all was quiet you told yourself a million things to convince yourself the crush on Legolas was surface level. You told yourself things like:

“It was his elven heritage; you just weren’t used to seeing elves.”

“The infatuation and curiosity would dim with time.”

“Most of your life elves were fictional, and now there was one, right before you.”

Those were a few of the lines you told yourself to placate yourself when your mind wandered too close to Legolas, though it never felt very convincing.

Legolas turned, his bright blue eyes meeting yours. They were so wide and full of wonder, it was hard to believe he was hundreds - if not a couple thousand - years old. He was so youthful and bright, not weighed down from living a million lifetimes. Nothing like his father nor the whispers that followed the King’s name in the corridors of Imladris. Legolas was soft and gentle, careful and perfectly polite to a fault. His father’s disposition may have been winter but Legolas remained the sun that melted the frigid snow.

A smile blossomed on Legolas’ face, not a single crease appearing on his pale skin. The simple gesture made your heart rate increase to an alarming rate, knots twisting and turning in your stomach. Heat and embarrassment made your cheeks turn flush and you hoped he simply thought it was from the cold.

You returned a smile, overtly aware of your own appearance and insecurities. You wanted him to think you were as pretty as the elves you’d lived among, but beauty was hard while caught in a snowstorm. Your eyes moved from Legolas, opting to stare at the back of Aragorn’s head, at least until the queasy feeling in your stomach went away. He was so beautiful, and kind, and wonderful, and--

‘Stop. Don’t do that.’ you scold yourself. It wasn’t worth the potential heartbreak to even consider Legolas like that. You were mortal and he was very much not, he would more than likely see you as a lost puppy than a romantic prospect. But despite yourself, you snuck one last glance at Legolas, foolishly hopeful his eyes were still locked on you. They weren’t; he was now in the front with Gandalf, idle and unaware of the turmoil a simple smile from him caused.

A particularly strong gust of wind hit you, knocking you straight to the ground. The winds were getting fiercer and the snow heavier, how long would this continue before Galdalf admitted defeat and you turned around?

Wet, cold snow seeped through your clothes. You tried to stand, but found it difficult in the thick layer of snow. Like a clumsy child you kicked and squirmed in an attempt to regain your dignity, but it was all for not. Then a hand appeared in your line of sight, offering your aid. You looked up, Legolas now standing before you with an outstretched hand. Without hesitation you took it, Legolas hauling you back to your feet with little to no effort.

Even as your body was upright and stable, Legolas’ hand didn’t leave yours. His hands were rough from decades of archery training, but they seemed gentle in yours. His thumb lightly traced shapes over your skin. The action seemed subconscious as Legolas continued to look at you with that bright expression he always wore.

“Careful my lady, we wouldn’t want you to blow away.” Despite how quiet they were, his words cut through the wind. There was a teasing glimmer in his eyes that seemed to translate to his words.

You breathed out a laugh, careful to not stare into his eyes too long. Your cheeks became warm again, the red flush of embarrassment making its mark on you. Legolas’ head tilted to the side; concern masked the light mischief lighting up his face.

“My lady, you must be freezing, especially after a fall into the snow. Here--”

He didn’t give you time to respond, not that you even could. You were in a trance, enraptured the smell of cedar and bergamot as well as the heat that radiated from his body that was so close to yours. Legolas reached up to the clasp of his cloak and undid it. In a smooth motion, he took the cloak off and draped it over your body.

“That should help keep you warm in the snow.”

He smiled at you, sweet and gentle. His disposition was addictive, making a small grin curl on your lips. All too soon, he stepped away from you, sparring you one last glance before approaching Aragorn. Your cheeks remained warm and bright red, the rate of your heart not settling anytime soon.

You continued to watch him animatley chat with Aragorn, unbothered by the cold even without a cloak. Subconsciously, you pulled the cloak tighter to your body, deeply inhaling his scent that lingered on the fabric.

Practically floating, you were unaware of the knowing glances the rest of the Fellowship cast your way. All the while, you were lost in thought, trying to intellectualize each butterfly Legolas’ touch created. It was all overwhelming and you almost wanted to throw up. You were shaking and nervous; bright red from head to toe. This felt different than idle crushes and romanticization of complete strangers.

Maybe you were falling in love.

---

The river languidly flowed, beams of soft light reflecting off the water and creating a thousand little rainbows. The river’s stream was gentle and almost lethargic, it seemed even the Earth was affected by the elves' lack of urgency in life. Lady Galadriel’s power had seeped into the very dirt and from it sprout and ethereal visages in the forest. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this at peace. It must’ve been before your old life had been ripped from you.

You were alone, fingertips digging into the mud as you stared at the stream. Gandalf was dead. It was a strange thing to constantly remember. At times you would forget, searching for him in the Fellowship only to remember he’d fallen in Moria. There was a pit in your stomach you weren’t familiar with. Greif didn’t feel the way you’d thought it would’ve, not at all the way it was often dramatized in the media. Instead of bright and all encompassing, it was a subtle, slow burn that would eventually swallow you whole if left untempered.

But you didn’t know how to temper it.

So it left a dull ache within you, painless enough you’d forget it was there until it suddenly pricked you like a sewing needle.

But at least you could mourn without the threat of orcs looming over your head.

“I had hoped to find you.” His voice was carried by the gentle breeze that suddenly came through the clearing. You turned your head, only slightly, just enough to see Legolas’ lithe form standing a little ways away.

“It’s quiet,” you replied, returning your attention to the water, feeling a need to explain yourself to Legolas, even though his observation wasn’t accusatory. The ground muffled the sound of Legolas’ footsteps, only a soft thump heard with each step. He then took a seat beside you, so quiet it felt like he’d always been there. His eyes were on you, you could feel it, the way his blue eyes bore past your body and into your soul. Elves were far more perceptive than humans, and you could feel the truth to that statement in his gaze.

“I had thought so as well. I came here our first night in Lothlorien. It made me think of you, I am pleased to see I was correct in that.” He spoke the words so effortlessly, as if he hadn’t just admitted to thinking of you. Or perhaps it was nothing to him, a passing thought in his mind of one of his friends. You didn’t want to just be a friend, but perhaps that was the category you’ll remain.

You turn your head, eye to eye with Legolas. A warm flush appeared on your cheeks, something that seemed permanent when he looked at you with those eyes. The type of wonder and softness that almost made you believe he returned your affections. Yet you didn’t linger on those fantasies for too long, not wanting to potentially be let down. You’d never been very strong in your convictions, something born during childhood that you never managed to shake.

Flighty and fearful as long as danger was near and it was always near; haunting the edges of your vision, a jumpscare waiting around every corner. The worst case scenario had always been accepted as the only plausible scenario; fiction became fact and you wouldn’t accept any other truth. Perhaps Legolas was waiting for a cue from you to make a move, but you were too much of a coward to ever do it.

So in limbo you would stay, content enough with your friendship while secretly yearning for more.

“And what about a calm river could make you think of me?”

You were irrational and emotional, quick to anger and hard to forgive. If anything you were a calamitous tsunami; rough and heavy, dragging everyone in its tide. Nothing like the level headed and logical elves you’d lived around.

“You’re both a source of peace and beauty,” he responded, a small child-like grin curling on his lips. Your mouth grew dry, brows furrowed in slight disbelief.

‘He thought I was beautiful?’

The thoughts in your mind flew at a thousand miles per hour. There wasn’t one singular train of thought you could latch onto, the ability to speak taken from you. No witty comment fell from your mouth, only a wide eyed stare that suspiciously resembled a doe.

It seemed to make Legolas falter, a light dusting of pink appearing on his cheeks. He looked away, eyes locked on the river. “I apologize, that came out wrong. I simply meant that while you are attractive, you are also a great friend and I value speaking with you.” He stuttered and stumbled over his words, trailing off at the end. And his voice… it was so prim and proper, it made a few of the butterflies in your stomach turn to dust. “The same way I value the quiet of sitting in this…spot.”

His eyes darted away from your sharpened gaze, scanning the nearby treeline. His nerves seemed suffocating, he’d suddenly become so flighty. Had you made him uncomfortable? Did he see the hearts in your eyes when you looked at him? Had it made him uncomfortable?

The thoughts made you shrink within yourself. The barest hint of hope within you smothered in insecurities and doubt as dark as midnight. Perhaps he hadn’t meant the compliment in the way you wanted. They were only kind words to ease a friend's grief, yet you managed to only hear what you wanted.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

You fought against the disappointment, not allowing it to carve its place onto your face. The smile on your face was bright, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. “I’m glad we are friends.” You place your hand on his shoulder, your touch so light he nearly didn’t feel it.

You half expected him to jump away from your touch as if it burned, but he didn’t. Instead, he met your gaze once more, and the worry muddying his eyes melted away.He gave a slight nod of the head, yet didn’t speak.

Silence filled the clearing, and you were terrified he might hear your heart pounding against your chest. It became harder to breathe the longer the two of you stayed locked in the impromptu staring contest. The distance between you two was small, and you’d never been so close to him before. Oh god, was he getting closer? Was he leaning towards you?

There was a slight quiver in your lips, heart slowing to a point you were afraid it wasn’t beating anymore. Palms sweaty, they clung to the blades of grass held captive in your hands. Time stopped, nothing else mattered as you prepared for his lips to touch yours.

Except…

They never did. Legolas pulled back, eyes wide in alarm. He stood, nearly stumbling backwards in his desperation to get away from you. He got to his feet and took two steps away. On the ground you remained, ripping out grass to keep from crying as you saw what you swore was regret crossing his face.

“I should return to the Fellowship, Aragorn may require me. Until we meet again.” Legolas did an awkward half bow, scurrying away before you could so much as reply.

Left alone, you let out a heavy breath, that was shuddered with choked sobs. Were you truly that bad he had to flee from you? The wind blew stronger this time, and you rolled your eyes. A few stray tears fell and you let them, there was no one to see you cry like a baby over a man you knew you could never have.

You couldn’t deny it anymore, try as you might.

Oh no, you were falling in love.

---

The panic that tore through Helm’s Deep was contagious.

Ten thousand Uruk-hai would be marching towards you, an army that tripled what little forces the keep could muster. We needed outside help, but there wasn’t time to call for reinforcements. We’d all already be dead by the time they came.

You tried to not let the fear show, desperate to keep your body steady despite the shaking it was plagued with. Deep breaths were forced as you attempted to keep your breath shallow and uneven. But you couldn’t deny it, even as you did anything and everything to keep your mind.

You weren’t ready to die.

Not today, not like this.

It wouldn’t be swift and painless, it would be drawn out and agonizing; orcs weren’t famous for their mercy. Suffocated by a blanket of despair, you briefly considered offing yourself. There were so many twisting tunnels and a million ways for you to do it. But in the end, as you stared into the desolate eyes of the Rohirrim, you decided against it. If they could face impending doom with grace, then so could you. Yet that didn’t keep the terror from threatening to swallow you whole.

You were numb.

Stood outside, elves and men began to line up along the wall. There were screams and shouts all around, but it was nothing but white noise in your ears. Across the crowd, your eyes met Legolas’. His lips were downturned and his eyes were tired; Legolas was just as terrified as you.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but within a blink the two of you began to move towards one another. The crowd was thick but you shoved through them with the strength of someone twice your size. As you escaped the crowd and your hands found Leglolas’, you could finally breathe. It was a breath of fresh air after being forced underwater.

His eyes bore into yours, his grip tight as if to assure himself you wouldn’t leave. Battle was coming, he knew that, you knew that, but the sentiment was nice. It made your heart flutter, the numbness freezing your body lifting the longer you stayed there.

You wanted to speak, to tell him all the love confessions and speeches you’d been mentally writing and rewriting. But the ability to talk had been lost. Your mouth was dry and your throat had closed up. Instead you squeezed his hands tighter, hoping to convey everything your words couldn’t.

His lips, pressed into a thin line, relaxed into a slight frown. His eyes were searching your face, looking for the answers to his never ending questions. You weren’t sure if he found what he was looking for, too afraid to ask in case it soiled the moment.

It was in that moment, with your eyes connected and his hands tangled with yours, everything clicked into place. Every nagging insecurity and silly fear felt so miniscule and pointless. How much time had been wasted living in fear?

Moments before doom and your hit with an epiphany. Your feelings weren’t as unrequited as once believed. Reflected in Legolas' shining eyes you could see the same unsurety that came with loving someone new. The constant doubts that you were wrong, not trusting your own eyes and instincts. It was never one sided, you just wish one of you had the courage to say something before this moment.

A part of you waited for Legolas to speak, to declare everything you’d already figured out, but he never did. Rendered mute just as you were, he was silent in the midst of chaos.

So you opted to not speak either and instead pressed your lips against his. Your lips were dry and cracked, raw from biting on them constantly. Legolas’ were much the same, yet neither of you hardly cared. His grip on you tightened as he pulled your body closer. He never wanted to let you lose and you didn’t want him to.

The kiss was hardly romantic or anything like the sappy romance books that became your bible. His lips were rough and his grip was nearly bruising, but it made your heart burst all the same. There was no time for gentle kisses and longing eye contact under flutter lashes, the world was coming to an end. And you’d be damned if it ended without you telling Legolas you’d loved him.

You pulled back, wide eyes staring into his eyes. A warm rush through your body, heart beat racing against your chest. Faintly, you heard Aragorn calling for the two of you; the current scenario came rushing back as time began to move normally. Majority of the army has lined up, anxiously awaiting the official start of a long dreaded war. You looked at Legolas once more, and his eyes met yours.

“I love you.” The words fell from your lips, jumbled together as you spoke to the tempo of your heartbeat. He understood them all the same, his lips curling into a melancholic sort of grin.

“I love you.”

The moment was over, the bubble previously surrounding just the two of you bursting. The end was near.

Following the crowd, you and Legolas took your places at the wall, watching ten thousand Uruk-Hai march towards you. Yet you weren’t filled with the same icy fear and delolation. You’d been revived; dropped into icy water after a year long drought.

Under the wall and hidden by darkness, your hand found Legolas’. He squeezed it, a reassurance and a promise.

You would both make it out.

And everything would be right.

Deeply, you inhaled slowly exhaling. A single arrow bit through the darkness and landed in the chest of an Uruk-Hai. The enemy army shouted and began to charge. You lifted your blade, untangling your hands from Legolas’ as you knocked his arrow.

The two of you would be fine.

If only so you could hear him say the words you’ve dreamed about since your first meeting.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

#legolas imagine #legolas x reader #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #legolas #legolas oneshot #legolas greenleaf #tolkien #lotr #middle earth imagines #lotr movies #lord of the rings oneshot #lord of the rings #legolas fluff #mirkwood elves #lotr fanfic #lotr elves

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desmorotu · 3 months

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lasko’s playlist ⭐️ (a glimpse)

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷ for @morgansplace !!!

☆ lovesong - adele (lasko, despite already having a partner and is able to express how he feels freely to them, is still a hopeless romantic. he often feels a pit in his stomach when thinking about love, and this song conveys precisely how he can feel. he enjoys humming the melody and tapping his foot to the beat + has cried to this song just because 💀)

☆ i’m not okay - JVKE (he loves the piano!! he is a sucker for a good, heart aching melody that can bring goosebumps to his skin. he doesn’t particularly relate to the song per se, but he does agree with the message that it is okay to not be okay.)

☆ life eternal - ghost (he thinks about his partner when this song plays :p. he really enjoys the choral elements to it! damien’s been introducing him to different kinds of music and lasko is experimenting with ghost currently. he bobs his head to the beat and enjoys dramatically staring out the window when it’s nighttime. he’s witnessed damien screaming these lyrics at the top of his lungs.)

☆ closer - nine inch nails (gavin showed him this song LMAO. despite being shy about the lyrics when listening around other people, when he is alone he is definitely jammin’. he actually enjoys the suggestive lyrics a lot, but he will never admit it to the others. he lip syncs and looks in the mirror while he does it to make sure he looks “attractive enough.” not even his partner knows he does this yet.)

☆ singularity - bts (after having looked up the english translation, he feels a deeper ache when listening to it. he relates deeply to these lyrics, acknowledging that he oftentimes puts others way before himself and, just as in the song, “buries his voice” in fear of rejection. he loves taehyung’s deep vocals and prefers listening while driving because he seeks the vibration of the bass.)

☆ like crazy - jimin (lasko may or may not have gone down a bts rabbit hole at some point—but this song hits him to his core. it’s in a way that he can’t explain, but goosebumps take over his skin and he has to stop whatever he’s doing at the moment to listen and appreciate in its entirety. he was very happy when his partner told him that it was on their playlist after listening to it with them :3)

☆ sure know something - kiss (lasko’s an avid kiss enjoyer—i won’t be hearing any protests. he likes listening to this one with his partner and breaking out of his shell for a moment to dance along with them :). he likes the bass and paul stanley’s voice could “bring a grown man—yes, that grown man is me—to his knees.”)

☆ you know me too well - nothing but thieves (he heard this from another person’s car radio while stopped in traffic and he shazamed that shit. he loves the sensual vibe and, if he ever decides to make a sex playlist, will probably be putting this song on there.)

☆ sway - michael bublé (he fuckin LOVES the entirety of this song. he dances with his partner to it and often enjoys watching them dance to it by themselves. his mouth is always agape, eyes wide and looking desperately in awe. he loves spinning them around and seeing the mischievous glint in their eye. he regrets not ever picking up an instrument, but he would pick up a trombone or violin in a heartbeat if given the chance.)

☆ dancing queen - ABBA (this motherfucker IS the dancing queen even though he is no longer seventeen. he always smiles his biggest when he recognizes the familiar melody and lets himself dance to it even if there are people around. even in the most subtle of ways like walking to the beat or swaying his body, he cannot stay still with this song on. his partner likes to play it when they’re walking through the doorway as an “intro song.”)

refer to lasko’s playlist cover at the bottom!!

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

okay omg i hope you like it 💔 more songs from my playlist that give lasko vibes this time. these are just my opinions + headcanons ! i tried really hard with this but sometimes i’m really bad at words so i’m sorry if the descriptions are repetitive :(. again, if you want to see more, let me know!! i personally love content like this and i’ve was actually really inspired by morgan’s OC icon post :3 it was SO COOL

k bye 💟

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted headcanons #redacted asher #redacted gavin #redacted lasko #lasko moore #redacted freelancer #redacted damien #redacted huxley #how did i forget tags #wtf is wrong with me #redacted damn crew

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justythewriter · 7 months

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I decided to finally write about some of the struggles I face as an independent artist. Tumblr has always been an incredible space for me to introduce my music to new listeners. So withy get if you come across this check out the links and enjoy the words ❤️

IG: justymusic

TikTok: justjustymusic

youtube

An open love letter to music.

Why is music feeling like watching every kid in the school yard get picked up before me.

My mind flashes back to that feeling seven year old me embraced knowing I would sit on the cold after school lunch tables until the final call. A late evening met with an early morning every day.

But music was supposed to be safe. When I found room to be above mediocre I clung to it for dear life. Remembering the words of the first teacher who saw me, truly saw me, and how she believed in my own lyricism even at its earliest stage.

I was so hungry when I was young. Staten Island could never offer the hug a queer black kid needed, but music could.

Home didn’t understand the sadness underneath budding teenage frustration, but music could.

I met music on a first date with no expectations but in queer fashion, maybe I fell too fast.

She took up my days. Multifaceted and engaging.

She became home and a safe space. She brought out the best in me. Introducing me to all of her friends and favorite places, putting me in rooms with people I’d be invisible to until I opened my mouth, hit the mic.

Maybe in my bliss I never stopped to consider this to be unrequited love.

We never needed all of affirmations when we first fell and yet now I find myself watching the single digit counts of comments or lack thereof.

I wonder if anyone is listening as I go to share another piece of myself to no avail.

Maybe I was sharper when I met her, yet now I watch as seemingly everyone around me makes it to those places I told her I’d take her- and even worse, I ration with if I never will.

There’s guilt as I see 29 stretching out to me, how lucky am I to meet another year of life- luck not offered to my cousin, yet how terrifying to know the projection the industry throws at me.

Even as I dodge, I become scorned thinking of how easy it seems for everyone else. The virality and colossal rise. Their talent not mine, their shine not mine, their wins not mine.

When will it be my time?

Will it ever be my time?

My days are spent helping future leaders secure their future, and yet I write and erase Plan B on what used to be my “anything is possible” journal.

Still, there is that hopeless romantic in me.

Wondering if maybe it wasn’t the right time, but the time may simply be on the way.

I know time waits for no one, but as I keep throwing my heart at the wall, I wonder where I will stick.

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jeonstellate · 10 months

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spaces between us

you never want to cross paths with seungcheol again but, as it seems, the universe has other plans.

๑彡 choi seungcheol x afab!reader

๑彡 secret baby!au, post-break up!au — angst

๑彡 paragraph format — 1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from one direction’s spaces (whose lyrics fit the ‘past’ that led to this story, albeit it was not explicitly told here).

๑彡 this is quite impulsive, actually. i was reading through my old fics in my drive a couple days ago && thought i can tweak this one a bit to change the ml . . .

You were surrounded by an enormous amount of cuddly plushies and breakable action figures. Everywhere you looked, your eyes would land on a face you grew up watching. Every single character played an important role in your childhood, whether you admired them or not. As far as your younger self was concerned, you were in heaven.

But then . . . you weren’t.

In the flood came — strong, unwavering, and without any warning.

All you could see was smoky quartz. Dark and light all at once. Akin to whiskey and honey whenever there was an eternal sun shining upon them, addicting and melting you right in. You could hardly believe that there was a time when they were utterly comforting to you, instead of just reminding you of a seemingly endless pain.

You had always appreciated the color brown. It was the color of soil — where life always had a chance to begin. It was the color of cocoa, too — a main ingredient in making the world sweeter. For you specifically, it symbolized a never-ending list of possibilities and opportunities.

Then, there came a time when the color itself signified something else entirely. It promised a happily ever after you never purposely sought, but was granted by the heavens anyway. It promised to cherish and to love you always. It promised you forever, lasting until the end of time. With the hopeless romantic ideologies that surrounded you as you grow, you willingly believed in those promises.

Yet, apparently, forever only last for seven years.

Brown, as rich and magical as it would remain, had its enchantments fade. Promises were broken. Smiles were rare and deceptive. A home gradually turned into a mere flat. A shadow eventually turned into a ghost. Life, once full of animation, had become utterly silent and still. From that moment on, dark crystals signified neglect, abandonment, and . . . regret.

You did not think you would be able to forgive those morions, much less forget. Yet, with time, they began to symbolize hope; a new beginning.

You never meant for it to. But these new dark crystals were so pure . . . so innocent . . . and so full of life. They were everything you thought it would be, if that shade was given humane features. Rather instinctively, just as soon as you caught a glimpse of them for the very first time, you knew you must protect those gorgeous hues from any evil — and so you tried your best.

Despite being an exact replica of the former, you instantly loved the new smoky quartz with all your heart — even more than your own life.

Once the flood had calmed, you found yourself in a situation that you had been dreading for the past few years. You did not expect the inevitable encounter for at least several more years, thus not even the comfort of childhood assisted in composing your racing heart.

"Seungjae." You found it quite difficult to act indifferent around a presence you used to know so well. "Why don’t you explore the princesses’ section? Your Uncle Jonghyeon told me Sarang likes Mulan." It was not like you could blatantly ignore him, either. All you could do was get Seungjae as far away as possible in case a confrontation spark ablaze.

"Okay!" Seungjae was enthusiastic as always, just like any other toddler who never seemed to run out energy. They turned to the man next to them, an appreciative smile on their face, "Bye-bye now, Mr. Seungcheol, thank you!" They then turned back to you, holding out their hand, "Let’s go?"

"I’ll follow you in a minute, love, okay?"

"Okay!" Seungjae remained oblivious on the thickening tension between the two adults. They walked away while dragging a plushie behind them by the ear — somewhat ecstatic to leave and explore on their own.

By the time the toddler was out of earshot, but still within your watchful eyes, you had finally settled on the best way to approach your current situation. "Thank you for helping Seungjae reach that plushie. Heaven knows what stunt they would’ve pulled just to reach it."

"[Nickname]," Seungcheol dismissed your gratitude, almost out of breath, "it’s been four years."

You did not quite appreciate how he easily dismissed your effort to keep your conversation civil, so you decided to quickly put him in his place. "Call me [First name], you lost the right to call me that when we—" You suddenly stopped yourself, realizing that it might catalyze something you were not mentally ready for. So, instead, you opted to redirect your chat in a more civil route, "How’s life treating you, Seungcheol?"

"How old are they?" Once again, he flat-out ignored you. As it seemed, while you were determined not to discuss what happened four years prior, that was the only topic he was interested in. "How— how old is Seungjae?"

You were left with no choice. If you answered, he would know, naturally. If you did not answer, he would still know, anyway. "They’re turning three this summer."

As confident his stance might have been, you watched it crumble in a millisecond after reality hit him with full force. "You should’ve— I should’ve—" When he regained enough of his senses, he seemed to realize that it was not a conversation you should be having in a children’s store. "We should probably talk elsewhere."

However stunned you were in seeing him so broken (something you had not witness in your seven years together), you were quick to dismiss him. "There’s nothing to talk about."

"[Nickname]—" Seungcheol instinctively grabbed onto your wrist when you began to walk away, but quickly dropped his hold when he realized that he might have crossed the line. "[First name]. Please."

You sighed. You did not plan on letting him off the hook easily (not that you thought of anything beforehand, anyway), but the fact that he did not even question the truthfulness of your words — like he still trusted you with all his heart . . . like he just knew that Seungjae could only be half of him — made you second guess your initial decisions.

Maybe . . . just maybe . . . you would spare him from knowing your main reason for departing without a goodbye.

"I already forgave you."

#choi seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #choi seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen imagines #choi seungcheol scenarios #scoups scenarios #seventeen scenarios #choi seungcheol oneshots #scoups oneshots #seventeen oneshots #secret baby!au #post-break up!au #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen

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madhatterbri · 2 months

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Trust Me | Bayley

Summary: Bayley X reader when Bayley turn face is trying to get the trust of reader but reader's not budging until it turns to a love confession

Requested by: @emperorrose3000

@plentyoffandoms @theworldofotps

The audience cheered when they saw you on the jumbotron. You were walking down one of the countless hallways of the arena. Your face remained stoic, yet you were a wreck on the inside. Your heart and mind were at war with each other on a decision that could make or break your wrestling career. There was only one woman to blame.

During the week, Bayley messaged you constantly. She was looking for allies to help her take down Damage Ctrl once and for all. The role model wouldn't let up despite her nessages being left on read. Tonight was her last chance to get you on her side.

The camera panned out to include Bayley in the shot. The audience popped as soon as they saw her. The WWE Universe always had a thing for her, whether she was a face or heel. Her recent fave turn made people eat her up more.

The two of you had a brief moment where your eyes locked. Her dark brown eyes were filled with sadness. She had been through a lot since Royal Rumble. The feelings you thought were dead for her starter to come back to life. You silently cursed yourself for being such a hopeless romantic.

"Hey," Bayley greeted and looked around nervously. Her head was constantly on a swivel now. No one was on her side after all the damage she had done to the women's division. "Have you been getting my messages?"

"Yeah, reading and deleting them, why?" You asked, pretending to be unbothered. Deep down, you wanted to be involved in this fight. You wanted to go to war against Damage Ctrl after what they did to your friends. Your involvement could help you be close to Bayley again.

"Have you thought about it?" She asked and rubbed her hands on her legs nervously. Very rarely did you ever see her on edge like this. You almost folded at the sight of her. Now was the perfect time to deflect.

"Have I thought about helping the mean girl in the locker room that built this bully group and instructed them to terrorize my friends?" You asked with a fake laugh. "You deserve this, Bayley. All of it,"

Bayley licked her lips and looked down. She nodded and sighed before looking at you again. "I deserved that. I'm sorry for what I did to your friends. I know asking you to trust me sounds ridiculous, but I would never hurt you,"

"I'll think about it," you dismissed her.

"That's all I ask,"

She left you alone after that. You knew you were a marked woman now. Damage Ctrl wouldn't want any more enemies. You thought about her words. Your mind was screaming at you to let her go, but your heart wanted to help her. In the end, you listened to your heart. You knew where to find her.

Bayley looked up the moment you walked in the locker room. She had been mindlessly scrolling on her phone and didn't want to get sneak attacked. The veteran didn't trust anyone now. The cameras were all gone, and it was just the two of you. She had so much to say, but she wanted you to speak first.

You smiled briefly at her and sat down next to her. The room was thick with tension. Bayley stared at the ground before muttering to herself and looking at you. You looked in her eyes. They now showed a tiny bit of hope and something else you couldn't put your finger on.

"I've thought about it," you paused.

"And?" She asked quickly.

"I have some questions,"

"Ask away. If it gets you to side with me, I'll answer anything," she confided in you. You turned to face her, and she did the same.

"Why didn't you or anyone in Damage Ctrl ever attack me?" You asked. The ex Damage Ctrl member was taken back by your question. This was the last thing she thought would be brought up.

"I told them to never lay a hand on you," she answered honestly. Curiosity got the better of you. There was no reason you couldn't be seen as a threat. You had some great matches with some of the best in the business.

"Why? Is it because I'm not strong enough? You didn't see me as a threat?" You asked hurt.

"That's not it at all," she defended and raised her hands up.

"Then why?" You demanded.

"I like you, all right," she answered and stood up from the bench. Bayley paced and ran her fingers through her hair. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Who confesses their feelings in a smelly locker room?

"Elaborate,"

"Here?"

"You want an ally?"

"I couldn't live with myself if they injured you, Y/N," she confessed. "I don't know how or when, but I fell so hard for you. I know you don't trust me, but please try to trust me when I tell you all this,"

You blushed, happy that you went with your heart. "I trust you, Bayley, and I felt the same way for a while now,"

Bayley seemed relieved and sat down next to you. She placed the top of her hand on your thigh. You smiled and laced your fingers in hers.

#fanfiction #wwe fanfiction #bayley #bayley fanfiction #wwe bayley #bayley wwe #bayley x reader #bayley x y/n #bayley x you

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kiss-me-cill-me · 5 months

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Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 3

Start with Pt. 1 HERE! ~ Jump back to previous Pt. 2 HERE!

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Lucien continues to be a slight jerk, lots of awkward fluff, some sexually suggestive scenes/dialogue, fade-to-black style end of chapter

A/N: I apologize to anyone who's lactose intolerant, both for the choice of drink in this chapter and for the sheer levels of cheesiness.

It did snow that weekend, and heavily. Neil’s movie pick turned out to be perfect for the frosty atmosphere. You curled up on your couch and popped the VHS in, holding a hot drink with your fingers wrapped tightly around the mug to warm yourself.

It was an enjoyable way to spend an afternoon. Though, you found yourself wishing that Neil could be curled up on the couch next to you. He seemed like the type who would have all sorts of fun trivia, and be able to spout off every movie that each actor had been in previously. That night, your mind sifted through fantasies of the two of you, cooped up together, sheltering out a storm. Preferably with less dire consequences than had been in The Shining.

The next morning, the world was awash with sparkly white. Although it took a few hours from the time you woke up to actually be able to see anything; of course, it was still dark by the time you were unlocking the door to your cafe. But slowly, the early morning’s pink light crept over the snow dunes, until finally everything outside your window looked almost blindingly bright. The reflection of the ice crystals somehow made winter feel just a little less harsh.

At around nine, Lucien came into your shop, ordered his usual, and reached across the counter to accept the paper cup and marker you offered him. You were already getting used to his idiosyncrasies.

“So, I know Neil wouldn’t want me to tell you this,” Lucien began, marking an elegant cursive “L” on the cup as he began to write his name. “But I feel like it’s my responsibility as the foil-slash-trickster character in his life to do it anyway.”

You smiled, but furrowed your brows. You had no idea what Lucien was talking about. Was he always this… cinematic when getting involved in other people’s business?

“Okayyy…” you replied.

Lucien passed the cup and marker back to you, and you started getting his order ready.

“You know Neil has a huge crush on you, right?” Lucien deadpanned.

“Umm…”

Your words failed you, and you froze with your hand in the jar of espresso beans, halfway through digging out a scoop. Lucien continued, undeterred.

“Before you mistake me for some kind of hopeless romantic,” he said, “I’m really just doing this to advance the plot past the ‘Neil fawns over his clueless love interest’ point. I’m sick of listening to him lament over whether or not he should ask you out.”

“W-why tell me instead of just pushing Neil to do it, then?” you asked.

“Oh, don’t worry - I’m playing this from both angles,” replied Lucien. “But if you’re not interested, I can tell Neil-”

“No!” you blurted, a little too quickly. “I mean, uh, you really don’t have to get involved…”

“Mm-hmm,” hummed Lucien, slowly. “Well, if you’ve got the balls to make a move, could you do it sooner than later? I can really only watch Neil make puppy-dog eyes out the window for so long.”

Your heart swelled at the thought of Neil, elbow resting on the counter and hand holding up his chin while he sighed, longingly. It was a dramatic image, but it seemed to fit him. You stifled a smile.

You handed Lucien his coffee and told him to have a good day, not making any promises about Neil. But of course, you were secretly brimming with excitement over the knowledge that he liked you back. You had spent plenty of time fawning after him the past few days. But you hadn’t allowed yourself to seriously consider the notion that he might feel the same way you did. Your heart sang as you swept the floor of your little coffee shop, and you hummed while you worked, lungs filling with anticipation.

That afternoon, you had a few errands to run after closing up your shop, but you made it a point to stop by Gumshoe so that you could return Neil’s video. More as an excuse to see him than anything, but the back of your mind wondered if maybe you should take Lucien’s advice and make a move. What kind of move, you had no idea - and you still didn’t have a plan as you pushed open the door of Neil’s store, making the little bell ring with your arrival.

“Hey, you’re back!” exclaimed Neil, hunched over behind the counter.

He came out to greet you, standing at an awkward distance that was a bit too close for regular friendliness but too far to offer you a hug.

“Oh boy, coffee girl,” Lucien called from the couch, keeping up appearances on his antagonistic role.

“Ignore Lucien,” Neil told you, smiling in a way that made your heart do somersaults.

“I usually try to, unless I’m selling him coffee,” you joked, suddenly self-conscious about coming across as too mean.

Neil laughed, though, and your anxieties melted away. At least for a second, until he fixed you with a conspiratorial look that had your stomach in knots to match your pounding heart.

“I won’t say anything if you want to start triple charging him,” Neil said lowly.

“I can hear you!” Lucien shouted.

Lucien’s outburst broke the tension, and you and Neil were laughing easily with each other again. You wondered if it was just your imagination that something felt different between you now, as if there were many things left unsaid. Had Lucien told Neil that you liked him back? Probably. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, if it really did help get you past the awkward pining phase.

“So, what brings you in today?” asked Neil. Was it your imagination, or did he seem more nervous than usual?

“I’m here to return your VHS,” you replied, pulling the tape out of your bag. “Don’t want any late fees, right?”

“Wow, you watched it already?”

“Yep, and it was just as atmospheric as you said.” You smiled as you added, “But very creepy; I wish I hadn’t watched it alone.”

You were hoping that Neil would pick up on the hint, but instead he frowned a little as he took the tape from you.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said sincerely.

“Oh no,” you hurried to assure him. “I just mean I wish I’d had someone to watch it with.”

From the couch, Lucien coughed loudly. Neil, oblivious, still didn’t get the hint.

“Well, next time I’ll pick something less scary,” he promised. Your heart sank a little, but brightened when he said, “So, when can I stop by for my next drink so I’ll owe you another movie?”

There was something strangely endearing about hearing him so eager to be indebted to you. You remembered how Lucien had described Neil as having puppy-dog eyes, and now you could definitely picture it. The way he was looking at you, so much excitement over the idea of recommending a movie for you to watch.

“How about right now?” you offered. You were also eager to snatch up the opportunity. “The cafe’s closed, but I could whip you up something. I have an idea I think you’ll really like.”

You looked up at Neil through your eyelashes, trying to act a little demure. Knowing that he had a crush on you made you bolder.

“Sure,” Neil agreed, a smile lighting up his face. “Just let me grab my coat.”

You followed him to the door, and watched as he shrugged into his jacket and put on a wool hat. Before leaving, Neil called over his shoulder.

“Lucien! You’re in charge while I’m gone.”

Lucien gave a thumbs-up, and threw you a knowing look. You were grateful that Neil had already turned around, pushing through the door before holding it open for you. It was already dark outside, and the streetlights illuminated the fresh snow as you walked down the street to your shop.

Neil kicked at a snowdrift as he walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. You mirrored him, shoving your hands deep into the folds of your coat, even though you wanted nothing more than to reach out and wrap his fingers around yours.

“I’m excited to see what you have planned,” Neil said.

It took you a moment to realize he was talking about the drink. Your breath puffed out in front of you as you spoke.

“I think you’ll really like this one,” you replied. “Very sweet; just like you.”

You glanced over to see Neil’s cheeks turn bright red. Maybe it was just the chilly air…

“I remember you said that the first time we met, too,” Neil laughed. “That I was sweet. You still think so, huh?”

“I do,” you replied, letting your shoulder bump against his as you walked. “But only because it’s true.”

You reached the front of your shop, and you bent down to twist your key in the lock. A burst of warm air rushed out when you opened the door.

“Come on in and warm up,” you told Neil. “Your face is red.”

Neil’s cheeks blushed an even deeper shade. That time was definitely not from the cold. He stepped in, and you followed, shutting the door behind you.

“Hey, I have an idea.” Neil smiled as you hung up your scarf. “Can we make this one a double and share a drink while I take you on a walk? I know a really nice park around here.”

You liked the sound of that. Being new to the area, you hadn’t had a lot of time to explore, and spending more time with Neil was something you wouldn’t say no to.

“That’s a great idea,” you beamed. “Two caramel hot chocolates, coming up.”

Neil seemed to perk up at your mention of hot chocolate. He followed you over to the counter as you stepped behind it to whip up your latest attempt at finding a drink that Neil would enjoy. You figured that everyone liked hot chocolate; unlike coffee, it was almost guaranteed to be universally loved. You poured the drinks into two to-go cups, and added whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel sauce to each.

“That looks amazing.”

Neil was practically drooling, and you knew you had hit on something good.

“See, this is why you should have just told me in the first place what you like,” you teased.

“But if I had, would we ever have seen each other again after that first night?” Neil countered.

He had a point.

“Probably, but… maybe you wouldn’t have ended up lending me that movie,” you relented.

“Exactly.” Neil took an eager sip, and licked at the whipped cream stuck to his lip. “And then, things might have turned out differently. A little chaos always leads to better adventures.”

It was an interesting thought, and you smiled as you recalled all the little swirls of chaos that Neil had added to your life. Even in the short time since you’d met him, life seemed a little more exciting and fun. He was different from you, but that was a good thing.

“Is that something Lucien says?” you guessed.

“Jonathan, actually,” Neil admitted. “Although Lucien is an agent of chaos.”

You laughed, and carried your own drink to the front door. Neil trailed behind you, shrugging his jacket back on.

“Come on, let’s get going before things get too chaotic around here,” you joked. “I was promised a nice walk through the park. And unlike some people, I’m not against saying that that’s exactly what I want.”

You wrapped your scarf around your neck, and you and Neil once again braved the chilly air, with hot drinks now in hand. The warmth seeped through your gloves, keeping your fingers comfortably guarded against the frigid temperature. As you took a sip, the hot chocolate warmed you from the inside as well, and you felt content as Neil guided you down the street toward the little park. As you got close, you caught glimpses of bright lights sparkling in the dark.

“Oh, wow,” you gasped as they fully came into view. “So pretty.”

The trees, bare of their leaves, had been wrapped in twinkling yellow lights. The whole park was full of them, and the beautiful display seemed to shine over the fresh snow. The effect was dazzling. Neil gave you a little nudge.

“Pretty like you.”

As he prodded you with his elbow, it was suddenly your turn to get flustered. You felt your face heat up, and looked down at your cup of hot chocolate so that Neil wouldn’t see you smiling.

You walked together in silence for a few minutes, taking in the spectacle.

“So,” Neil’s voice cut through the chilly air, breath still puffing in front of him. “I’m sure you’ve probably already figured this out, but… I really like you.”

Your heart flipped with joy. Hearing the words come out of Neil’s own mouth was enough to send you soaring.

“Lucien… might have told me,” you admitted.

Neil laughed, an adorable little chuckle of embarrassment that made you fall a bit harder for him. He stopped walking and turned to face you, setting his paper cup down on the freshly-shoveled pathway. You did the same, wanting your hands free for whatever was going to happen next.

“Well,” Neil continued, “I hope he at least didn’t tell you about this. I got you a little gift.”

Neil reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, offering it to you.

“Since I technically still owe you for that first coffee,” he said.

You opened the box, and a smile spread across your face. Inside was a pair of tiny charms on a gold chain. One was a little coffee cup, and the other was a VHS tape. The gesture was so adorable you were scared that your heart might burst.

“Neil, this is so cute!” you cried. “It’s us!”

A look of relief washed over Neil’s face.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said.

“Of course I do. Neil, you really are the sweetest.”

A gust of sudden, frigid air blew through the park, causing you both to shrink into yourselves. Neil pulled the collar of his jacket up, trying to keep out the chill. You laughed.

“But you still don’t bundle up as much as you should,” you teased.

You took a step closer to Neil, untucking your scarf and wrapping it around the both of you. Your forehead pressed against his as you stood, bundled together against the cold. The frosty tip of Neil’s nose touched yours when you looked up at him.

“Maybe I just like having an excuse to share scarves with you,” Neil teased back.

His hands were shoved back in his pockets, and you moved a little closer, wishing he would put his arms around you.

“You know, you don’t actually owe me for that coffee,” you said softly. “I told you, the first one was free so you’d get addicted.”

Finally, Neil reached out and held you by the waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Well, I did get addicted to something, but it wasn’t the coffee…”

Your eyes closed, and Neil pressed his lips against yours. You could taste the sweetness of caramel as he kissed you, his warm arms wrapping around you a little tighter.

Neil’s eyes were still half-lidded when you pulled away. You felt your cheeks burn again.

“So does this mean you like me, too?” Neil asked.

You giggled, the cold puff of your breath evaporating between you.

“Neil, you can be so dense,” you teased.

You leaned in for a second kiss, just as sweet as the first.

“Okay, I’m going to assume that’s a ‘yes,’” Neil breathed.

You nodded happily.

“This might be a bit forward, but… what do you say we get out of the cold?” you asked, reaching up to take hold of Neil’s collar as you pressed your body against him.

“You mean like… head back to my place?”

You nodded again, smiling as you bit your lip.

“Oh. Yeah. Yes - definitely,” Neil answered.

He was so cute when he was flustered. You kissed him again, a little more passionately, and felt something start to press against you. You broke the kiss to tease Neil a little more, unable to help yourself.

“Is that a VHS in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Possibly… both?” Neil replied.

Your laughter echoed through the night air as you wrapped your arms tightly around Neil’s neck, throwing your head back. Being with him felt so freeing. Like you could laugh and joke and be yourself, so easily, while Neil did the same.

“Let’s get going, then,” you whispered. “A little chaos makes the best adventures, right?”

Read Pt. 4 HERE!

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #LemmyFics

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foreverdolly · 1 year

Note

Dolly’s 2.5k Sleepover Celebration !!!

congratulations on 2.5k! you’re so deserving of it baby 💗 !

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

for my request: i would like daddy!dom elvis, number 12, number 55, and soulmates trope!

“I had a dream about you last night” and “I’ve never done this before…”

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋 | 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

prompts: "i had a dream about you last night" and "i've never done this before. . . " with the soulmate trope.

word count: 2.1k

song: power of my love - elvis presley

notes/warnings: this is 70s elvis, so there is a brief mention of pill abuse. i might have taken a different direction than what you wanted, but i know that you're a hopeless romantic and thought that you might have enjoyed this a lil bit more. i hope you like it!

She was always so lovely. Big eyes and a beaming smile that made him melt like morning frost. She was the woman of his dreams- the one that made him fall in love without even knowing her. That was what a soulmate was supposed to do though, right? Make you fall instantly. He felt connected to her, almost as though there was this invisible string that connected the two of them. Elvis remembered the first time he told his parents about the dreams. His father was happy for him: Elvis had his passion with music and a newfound goal, which was to find her.

The same way that Vernon had found Gladys on that hot summer day during a church revival. Two months later they were skipping town, borrowing a ten dollar bill from their friend just to get married.

“She was four years older than me. . . but I didn’t care ‘bout that none. She was the girl I’d been dreamin’ ‘bout all’a my life- and there she was, starin’ at me from across that ole’ linen tent. She was real. And she was mine. If I could’a married her right then. . . I would have.”

Gladys wasn’t as happy for her son as Vernon had been. The “dreams” meant that he was growing up. He was shedding the skin of his boyhood, a reminder to his mother that Elvis wasn’t going to stay her baby forever.

The bout of insomnia started right after he joined the military. It was ironic- in a macabre kind of way though. The only times he felt true happiness was when he was sleeping, and yet he barely got any shut eye. That was when the addiction started, he thinks. Most nights he couldn’t drift off at all without the help of a pill. He needed to see her to stay sane. He kept the bad habit up once he got back to Memphis, and without his mother there to scold him, there were no consequences to his actions. There was no one there to nag him or lead him in the right direction. Because even if he was strung out on sleeping pills and opioids, he was still making money.

And boy, was he making money.

The nights got lonely with nobody to spend them with. The house was too big to be empty the way that it always was. It hurt his heart. When Miss Mary removed her apron and turned off the oven to head home, the solitude began to sink in. The hallways got darker, the rooms felt larger, and not even the sound of his piano could drown out the silence.

Vegas wasn’t any better. Elvis wasn’t just sinking- the man was drowning. All he could do was flail his limbs out, clawing for some solid land to cling to. His mother was gone, him and his father often fought like cats and dogs, and the Colonel wasn’t the same man that he had been towards the beginning of his career. All of his friends were on his payroll, the girlfriends never saw him outside of who he was up on stage, and it felt like Elvis was nothing but a figure. It was almost like he wasn’t a real person. Sometimes it was hard for him to even remember who he was outside of the flashy wardrobe and spotlights.

Without a microphone in his hand Elvis was just a man.

A lonely one at that.

But the woman in his dreams was still out there. She was waiting for him, he could just feel it. He watched her grow up from his mind's eye, and saw the way that time had changed her. The musician knew that he would be more than willing to settle for a friendship- anything. Just so long as he could have her.

And then it happened. That. . . that thing.

His eyes searched the crowd just like they always did, wanting to connect with all of the unfamiliar faces. So he sang from the depths of his soul, his fingers trembling as he gripped the mic even harder in his large palm. Elvis wanted to reach out to all of them, and for everyone to see him.

Really, it was a cry for help.

Because he was still just that poor boy from Tupelo. And while he didn’t have to stand up on a crate to reach the microphone anymore, he was still putting on the same sort of show. Just a boy and his guitar- destined for greatness. Reaching out for love and acceptance. Desperate. Hungry. Searching.

And then your eyes met. And Elvis remembered his father’s words.

“If I could have married her right then. . . I would have.”

It all clicked into place.

The singer forgot who he was when he finally stumbled off stage, tearing at his sweat covered scarf and heading towards the doors that led to the casino ballroom. Out into the crowd. He couldn’t stand to be away from you for even a second. Not anymore. Not ever again. He wouldn’t be able to take it. Jerry had to yank him by the back of his white jumpsuit, keeping him from being surrounded by a screaming mob. They would no doubt tear him apart after he put on a show like the one that he had just performed. He could still hear the women’s shrill voices calling out for him. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were one of them.

“I-I need. . .” Elvis was panting- breathless. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the show or the fact that he had finally found you. It could very well be both. “Orange dress. S-She was in the third row. Bring her to me.” He was practically speaking in riddles, but Jerry knew better than to question him.

The dyed brunette didn’t want to leave the side stage. He wanted to wait right there until Jerry had finally found her, but he was being gripped at the elbows and numbly ushered over towards the employee elevator.

Everything after that was a blur. He was taking a shower by instinct alone, and the same thing with getting dressed. By the time that he finally woke up out of his shocked stupor he was sitting on the couch, his wet hair dripping into his eyes and onto his clothed shoulders. There was a knock at the door, which roused Elvis from whatever daze he was in.

“E.P?” It was Jerry’s familiar voice that called out to him.

It had the man bracing his hands on his long legs as he stood up to his full height, practically stumbling through the penthouse suite. There was a possibility that you had slipped out of the hotel before Jerry could find you. Or. . . or maybe you wouldn’t want to see him. You could have turned Jerry away, and there would have been nothing he could do about it. The fact of the matter was that Elvis had been in the public eye for years. He had traveled all over the state, so why was this the first time he had ever seen you? He would have moved heaven and hell just to catch a glimpse of you. . . so why?

But there you were in the doorway, your small frame dwarfed behind Jerry as he acted as a buffer to introduce the two of you.

Your hands and knees were shaking. You stood there and stared like a deer in headlights as Jerry spoke your name, motioning a hand between the two of you. Elvis repeated your name under his breath, trying it out on his tongue. Tasting it.

“Do ya wanna come in?” Elvis finally asked after what felt like an eternity of just staring at you.

In his eyes you were the celebrity, and not the other way around.

You straightened out then, your back rim-rod straight as you tossed a nervous glance up at Jerry. There it was again. . . the fear that you didn’t want to see him. He was terrified that this might be the last time that he’d ever get to see you. It had his eyes searching both of your hands wildly, trying to see if there was a ring.

What would he have done if there was one?

Die, probably.

“Ya don’t have t’come in. . . we can jus’ grab some supper-”

“N-No. . . I’ll come in.” Your voice was soft and sweet.

It was his first time ever hearing it. While your face was familiar, everything else. . . that was all new. It would have been horrifically dramatic, but the sound of it nearly had him weeping. He swallowed thickly, nodding his head before closing the door behind you, shutting Jerry out.

“You know. . .” It was difficult to breathe in his presence, and as you looked up at him you found it hard to look at his face for too long. It was one thing to watch him on television or have his posters up in your room. . . but to stand in front of him was completely different. He was no longer a God up on a grand stage, but a man. A man that was staring at you with the softest eyes.

You couldn’t help but admire his undone hair, his long bangs wet and hanging in his eyes. He was even more beautiful like this. He looked just as nervous as you currently felt.

“Now, there’s no need’a be shy. Ya can talk’ta me, promise.” His black velvet voice surrounded you. His blue eyes softened on your face.

And you believed him.

“I dreamed about you last night.” It was hard feeling this vulnerable. He was yours, so there was no reason to feel so ashamed of opening up. The both of you were like two sides of the same coin.

His lips twitched up into a smile, and he was quick to look off to the side and pretend to focus on anything else that wasn’t your lovely face.

“If I had gotten any shut eye last night. . . then I definitely would’a dreamt of ya too.” And then it was your time to look all shy, your cheeks warming with embarrassment.

He could have devoured you in one bite.

Elvis took his time comparing your small size to his. He started at your hands, then your height- the way you only reached his chest. You were like a little baby- his baby. The overwhelming urge to protect you was difficult to fight off.

It was animalistic. Primal.

“I-I’ve never. . . I’ve never done this before.” You finally spoke up after the silence had stretched on a bit too long for your liking. While you were enjoying the fact that you were finally in his presence, you were beginning to feel nervous all over again.

He was a famous musician, afterall. He had called you up to his private room. Despite the fact that you were a virgin, you knew what this must mean for him. Still, he blinked down at you in confusion. After a few seconds of putting two and two together he spluttered, his eyes widening.

“I didn’t call ya up here just’a have sex with ya, honey. I might not look it, but my mama raised a gentleman,” He reached out and took one of your hands in his. The feeling of your soft skin against his own nearly sent him to his knees. “I-I’ve been searchin’ so long for ya. . . I just wanna talk to y-”

“I want to.” You spoke up, knowing you weren’t going to stay this brave forever. You’d never spoken to a man in such a lewd manner, yet here you were. Letting him know that you had gotten on that elevator all the way to the top floor, all while knowing you were going to have sex with him. Knowing and wanting it.

“I just need to know that you’re not going anywhere afterwards. I won’t be able to do it-”

“We could get married tomorrow if you’d like. I know a guy.” It was his turn to interrupt.

It was the hurried, nearly panicked way he spoke to you that had your lips turning up into a grin.

And then a laugh escaping you.

“My daddy married my mama after just two months. I’m not sure that I could hold off for that long. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you.”

You.

The girl that he had loved even in his adolescence. The woman in his dreams.

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior @18lkpeters @memphis-mania @rjmartin11 @artlover8992

and the big daddy crew: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

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stevebabey · 2 years

Text

it’s too late for me now (i need you sticking around)

a/n: ruby?? finishing something?? u better believe it! this was inspired by future me hates me / the beths & i STRONGLY recommend it for the VIBES + much luv to my dearest kenny for the threats so that this finally got finished <3 intended lowercase + fem!reader. word count: 3.1k summary: it’s hard to believe in love after so many bad first dates — you’re desperate to make sure the next one sticks.

your run with love had its history.

consider it the lore of your life, but the winding tales of your many failed dates — that road was long. counting them went off both hands, much to your distaste. though, you’d hardly say you dated around; especially considering none of the guys seemed to make it past date three.

what was the problem? you were splendid company if you did say so yourself. you tried to not be too loud, nor too quiet, a good balance of serious and flirty, all loud or odd parts of your personality packed away to try not to scare off any dates. it didn’t seem to make a difference — the fault had to be the male population of hawkins.

so why did you keep accepting dates?

well, it wasn’t your fault for getting swept up in it each time. somehow, you never managed to learn your lesson — but when a boy slips sweet notes into your locker or plucks a flower to ask you to dinner, it kicks your heart into a fuss that won’t settle and you swoon.

you daydream about holding their hand, pressing a soft kiss to their brow, finding a soft spot in their heart where you can nestle & live and become someone that someone loves.

it doesn’t matter if you’re cradling your still bruised heart from being stood up by jeremy jones last month because when the next boy asks, your stupid heart still flutters out what if it’s real? what if this time it’s different?

and it never was.

perhaps, worst of all is that you were still so tangled up with the idea of love. there was no helping the flip of your stomach, the nervous anticipation, the skip of your heart when thought about love. the track record of your battered heart didn’t seem to matter, there was no shedding the hopeless romantic in you.

however, it meant you were a tad pickier these days. standards high enough to warrant being called a bitch from the guys who couldn’t handle the rejection but hey, if they can’t bother with flowers on the first date, it told you everything you needed. you wouldn’t get yourself pathetically worked up on boys that only asked you out over the phone and had different intentions.

but still, your poor heart loved to latch to whatever it could.

so, when steve harrington asks what you’re doing friday night on shift at family video, you have to curse the skip of your heart.

for the last couple of months, you had gotten to know steve as your co-worker. as anyone who grew up in hawkins did, you were well aware of his prior reputation with the ladies — so it was a pleasant surprise to find you actually enjoyed his company. maybe it helped to have robin who called him dingus in the most endearing way and introduced him as her best friend.

and if robin buckley, certified band nerd, and king steve could be best friends, then maybe you could give him a chance.

and somewhere between the dorky jokes and his handsome grin, you had melted into easy friendship with steve. between bad customers that you gossiped about after and both of you attempting to distract the other while on the work phone, the two of you drew close. so much that you started looking forward to shifts with him.

so naturally, you accidentally grew a crush the size of jupiter on him.

how could you not? he always picked you up for your friday shift, knowing your brother got dibs on the car and you’d have to walk otherwise. whenever it rained, steve would trot to the café down the road and return with a steaming cup of hot chocolate for you, extra marshmallows in your cup — even though you didn’t remember ever telling him your affinity for mallows.

this time, however, you were determined to not ruin a friendship just because your heart had different plans. for perhaps the first time, you were not going to fall for the delusions you fed to yourself, no matter how much you’d like to believe that steve was different. even though you had sworn you’d caught his gaze caught on you one too many times.

you didn’t think you could take another crumpling of your heart, your ideas of love crushed once again, especially from sweet steve. friends it would have to be.

“friday?” you ask nonchalantly, looking up from the returns cart and blinking at steve. “no plans, i think. why?”

on the other side of a shelf, steve looks as though your response surprises him, lips parted and you swear a patch of pink has crawled onto his cheeks. he clears his throat and ducks to place a tape on the shelf. “i was— do you like parties? there’s a party on friday.”

your pulse jumps for a moment, a nervous feeling settling in your stomach and you try to shake it off. “a party? yeah, who doesn’t like parties.”

it’s enough of a casual answer you hope, continuing to slot tapes back on the shelves slowly. without meaning to, your eyes dart back up to steve, trying to gauge what he’s building up to ask. butterflies swarm in your stomach and you clench your fists, willing them to dissolve.

“did you wanna go?” for the second time in one minute, steve clears his throat. you wonder if he’s nervous. “with me?”

you pick over his words, trying desperately to ignore the way your heart sings. no matter how much you’d like it, it seems far more likely that steve isn’t asking you out. is this how king steve asked girls out? all suave and chillaxed? steve wasn’t like that anymore and it leaves you with no hints to the true nature of his question.

even if he was asking you out, you’re not supposed to track that road you remind yourself. a beat later, you realise as the word date hasn’t even passed steve’s lips and feel embarrassment flush up your neck. friends. you were friends. friends go to parties together! all the time!

“yeah, that sounds cool.” you smile at him, pressing down the hot flush you can feel fighting onto your cheeks. casual. friends. not a date. you could do this.

speeding back to the task at hand, you miss the fist-pump steve does, hidden behind the shelf and the quiet ‘yes!’ from his lips.

—

how do you dress to go to a party with your friend, that you secretly wish was a date, without giving it away?

apparently, you don’t know the answer. at least half of your closet is strewn across your floor, a dozen different combinations tried and failed as you stare at yourself in the mirror. you twist back and forth, eyes analyzing like a hawk and a groan escapes you when you realise you don’t like this outfit either.

your hands pull at your face, dragging down your cheeks dramatically as you lean closer to the mirror and lock eyes with yourself. “it’s not even a date.” you whisper, trying to shake the nerves that are ruining every outfit you try.

it works; at least long enough for you to pull on one of your better pairs of jeans and the new top you had yet to wear out and finally, feel satisfied. you’re just swiping the last of your mascara when the horn of a car outside startles you, your hand nudging forward and dolloping black onto your cheek.

“shit.” you mutter and move to the window, peeking through the slats to spy steve’s bmw in the driveway.

“shit.” you repeat, wetting your thumb and doing your best to wipe the black from your cheek. in the mirror behind you, you catch the blink of your alarm clock. god, he’s 10 minutes later than you both agreed and you’re still not ready.

gathering your jacket and bag, you nearly stumble down the stairs, your footsteps thundering as you speed towards the door. rushing in a blur past the kitchen, you call out your hasty goodbyes and step outside, the door swinging closed behind you.

the night air is cool, the moon nearly full in the sky and beyond the rumbling of the engine in passing cars, it’s nearly peaceful outside. you don’t keep him waiting.

despite the chill, steve’s been waiting outside for you, leaning back on the hood of his car with his arms folded over his chest. he looks good; his navy shirt stretched deliciously over his biceps, hair fluffed in his usual style, looking a picture of cool. it’s broken immediately when he stands up in a rush to meet you, feet stumbling for just a moment before he catches himself. you must imagine the tips of his ears tinted redder than normal.

“hey!” the word is tinged with excitement and steve’s smile betrays it as well, wide and bright. “you look— you look great. amazing.”

it’s impossible to fight the hot glow that surges to your face, forcing you to duck your head to hide it for only a moment. god, the plan to not swoon has immediately foiled. you’re about to undoubtedly fumble through an awkward thank you when steve steps closer, one of his hands reaching for your face.

“sorry, y’just got some,” his thumb grazes your cheek, gentle as he can, over the swatch of black you hadn’t managed to rub off. your breath catches in your throat, the skin burning where he touches it and you fight the urge to follow his warmth when he drops his hand. “makeup— there was something, uh, on your cheek.”

when you don’t say anything, words stuck in your throat as you rein yourself in, steve ambles on nervously. “sorry, i’m late i just— shit, i hope you weren’t waiting, i just thought since when i pick you up for work, you’re always a bit late and—”

“—steve.” you cut him off, finally finding your voice. “you’re perfectly on time; any longer and i would have started fussing over something silly.”

it seems to relax steve a bit, hearing your voice and your assurances and you see the drop in his shoulders. he turns and opens the passenger door, a handsome smile back on his face as he nods at it. “after you then.”

the radio fills the airwaves on the drive to the party, crackly as you move between towers and you bounce your foot in time in hopes to iron out some of your nerves. you take a deep inhale but it manages to make things worse; the alluring scent of steve’s cologne floating through your nose, a musky mixture of bergamot and something sweet.

as steve parks up down the road, your eyes latch onto the house of the party, obvious from its flashing lights and occupants that spill out of every entrance. even before you open your door, you can hear the faint notes of a duran duran song playing inside. you clip the door closed and lean against it, waiting dutifully for steve to lock it and join you on the sidewalk.

the two of you begin to wander, steve’s pace slower than expected but when he nudges his shoulder against yours and begins to speak, you know why.

“y’know,” he begins, nervousness wrapped around each of his words. “i’m actually surprised you agreed to go on a date with me.”

the word hits you in the throat, halting your feet. it shouldn’t shock you too much but considering you had spent the better half of this evening convincing yourself this wasn’t a date, you can’t help your next words.

“wait, this is a date?”

you cringe as you watch steve take in your words, expression dimming and shoulders slumping like he can’t control it. fuck.

it’s like you’ve kicked a puppy and through the elation in your heart, you feel a sick twist in your stomach knowing that you’ve accidentally hurt steve. head spinning, you try to grapple with explanations but steve beats you to the punch.

“well, i guess that explains why you said yes.” the deprecating tone hurts your heart, a thousand thoughts competing for your attention but none as loud as the one that says tell him the truth!

“steve—” you begin, but he’s already speaking.

“would you have still said yes... if you knew that i was asking you on a date?” steve’s voice is smaller than you’ve ever heard it and his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows tightly, his words tinged with worry.

it’s a good question. the battle between your head and heart pulls you in both directions; your lovesick feelings denied by your desperation to never experience another failed date. especially with steve.

“i don’t know.” you answer honestly, only to desperately want to reel the words after you said it having seen steve’s face fall further.

the next words come out frazzled, too loud, as you try explain. “it’s not that i didn’t want to! i’ve just had so many— too many first dates that go nowhere. dates where they want to end in a parked car or stop calling or—”

cutting yourself off with a sigh, you try not to feel embarrassed at the ramble of your shitty love-life attempts. man, this evening was not going how you expected. you dig into your feelings, knowing that you owed steve the truth, that he deserved to hear what you truly meant. he waits patiently, his face giving away only a trace of his hopelessness.

“i like you steve.” you say, voice closer to a whisper at your admittance, eyes fluttering closed as you swallow your nerves. “i like you a stupid amount and i-i don’t think i could handle the heartache if you were just another failed first date.”

a beat of silence. and then, the softest oh falls from steve’s lips in his realization which forces your eyes open again, seeing some of the sadness lift from his figure. you can feel his gaze scan your face and he chews his lip in thought for a moment. your heart all but purrs in delight when he reaches out, his warms hands unfurling your clenched fists (when did you do that?) to hold in his delicately.

without thought, you begin to commit the rough feel of his hands, the curl of his fingers that keep your own warm and toasty.

“unfortunately, i can’t see the future, so it would be wrong to tell you i know we’ll be perfect for each other.” he smiles, a hint of teasing hidden within it.

the joking tone hits you the wrong way and you frown, pulling back a little. is he making fun of you? steve senses it instantly, tugging you closer and this time his tone is all serious, raspy and earnest.

“but, i can promise i will take every date you offer because i like you stupidly.” he blinks, seeming to register that he hasn’t said what he meant. “a stupid amount! i like you a stupid amount, too. as well.”

your words. he’s using your words to tell you how he feels. shit, you two haven’t even been on a date yet — somewhere in your mind, it quietly occurs that this means steve must have liked long before he worked the nerve to ask you out. you think your knees might be wobbling from the wonderful feeling in your chest that aches in the best way; you want it to live there forever.

“which means even if you offer me just tonight, i’ll—” he pauses and smiles so sweetly it makes your knees weak. “i’ll take it.”

you can’t help the hesitation in your bones, the feeling after another first date that crushed your thoughts about love running reminiscent under your skin.

but there’s something about steve. something that yearns, that makes you want to risk the future heartbreak, the wide-eyed late nights, and potential stupid mistakes all for the chance of his love.

oh well, if it went wrong, future you could hate you.

“you better not break my heart, harrington.”

the sunshine grin that breaks on his face could be bottled and sold, you think as it sets your body buzzing with giddiness. steve grins boyishly, tilting his head back as if he really has to think about it, pretending to hmm.

his eyes catch onto the house party and another emotion ripples across his face, gone as quick as it was there. the genuineness in his response touches you with surprise. “only if you promise the same.”

you want to kiss him. the urge has twisted into your heart-strings and you’re sure that steve’s gaze has dipped to your lips for just a moment. turning your head to survey the party, you realise that if this time you’re actually right this time, that there will be plenty of time for all of it.

you tuck the desire to taste his lips into your heart, bookmarked for later, and instead shift your hands in his, intertwining your fingers. you tug him along and finally begin the both of you walking in the direction of the party again.

“next time,” you begin, your smile already giving away your teasing. “use the word date, idiot.”

steve’s hand tightens in your own and when you glimpse at him, unable to help yourself, you can’t miss the beautiful blush on his cheeks.

“oh, i’m sorry, sweetheart. i’ll make sure to be clearer next time.” he drawls, a touch of sarcasm in his words. he pulls you even closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him. your arms are touching, you realise fondly.

“you better be.”

he leans in, breath warm on your ear and you can’t help but melt at the next words that fall from his lips, soft and natural. “do you wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

you can’t help your giggle, flustered and hot in the face because man, is he good at this. it makes you ache with want, wanting and wishing with every part of your being that this works.

even though you shouldn’t be promising anything dates before the first has happened, you know steve and you nod eagerly — then tug him into the music, your hands keeping you connected as you step into the dark together.

tomorrow, when he picks you up in his car, bouquet in his hands, you will let the buzz in your body take over because god if that doesn’t make you weak in the knees.

when he takes your hand, a thought will niggle in the back of your head, something about waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this date to be the last and for him to stop calling, stop dropping off flowers and kisses, for him to stop gazing at you like you hang the goddamn moon.

another thought, steadier and sure, will tell you that you might be waiting awhile.

—

just tagging ppl below! hehe sorry mutuals u HAVE to see this but also this means u shud tag ME in everything <3

@hawkinsindiana @harringtonbf @parkerroos @cptnleviackerman @skylergisondo @cultivatingkindness @aphrodites-perfume @lurkymurker @familyvideostevie @rogersharringtons @sattlersquarry @yellowharrington @upsidedownwithsteve @milkiane

#i left this alone long enuf that when i reread it to check for posting i was like DAMN WISH THAT WAS ME #anyways its a tale as old as time and that tale is that i LOVE steve harrington #he's my wife he's my babygirl he's the man for me <3 #ruby writes #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #bada bing bada boom #i hate ppl who misuse tags so thats all from me folks #other than that enjoy!! <3

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moonlit-midnight · 1 year

Text

The kind of heart (I can bet my life on)

Characters: Malleus Draconia, Cameos from the Prefect and Lilia Vanrouge.

Genre: Hurt Comfort, Romantic Fluff.

Summary: Wherein you were lucky enough to spend your last moments with your beloved prince.

Warnings: Reader is a female, has an illness, and is a resident of Ramshackle.

—

Do you even truly love her?

If you treasure her dearly, you should also be lovers during the hard times, not only during the happy times.

Malleus Draconia felt pathetic as he recalled what the Ramshackle Prefect told him two weeks ago.

He felt pathetic for not paying proper attention to your wellbeing, and for not noticing the tiredness in your eyes and the exhaustion in your body which followed you like a dark cloud during your dates and hangouts.

He failed detecting the signs of your bad condition because he was too focused on the happy moments.

He was too focused on the bright side to the point of forgetting that even strong people could break, and even optimistic happy-go-lucky people lose their shine sometimes.

So by the time you confessed to him regarding your deteriorating health, the dragon fae prince didn’t take it well.

He got mad at you for keeping it a secret from him although deep down he knew that you hid it unintentionally, and he even had the audacity to avoid you for a while.

Two weeks later, Malleus regretted his harsh actions towards you.

He felt awful for firing hurtful words which he shouldn’t be saying to you.

Sure thing he was hurt, but the pain he felt was nothing compared to the anguish and agonizing pain gnawing at you everyday.

“Are you going to keep wasting your time sulking, and let your beloved girl slip away from you?” The prefect of Ramshackle casted a dark glare at Malleus. “You owe her an apology. Her days are numbered, so get a grip already and be with her.”

“What if she doesn't forgive me.” Malleus was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at your pastel blue bedroom door.

“Nonsense,” The prefect scoffed. “She’s not a vile person. She’s too soft on her friends, especially you.”

“I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” Closing his eyes, Malleus ignored the wrenching pain clawing at his heart violently.

The prefect let out an irritated grunt, fed up with the fae prince’s gloomy mood and persistent negativity.

“If you still won��t talk to your girlfriend by tomorrow, I’m going to drag you to her myself.”

With that, the prefect left the dorm, spending the night at Heartslabyul with the Adeuce duo.

They weren’t sure if Malleus would budge from his spot, but they were hoping that he would finally have the guts to knock on your door and talk to you.

★ —

Malleus stirred slightly upon feeling something soft making contact with his forehead.

Slowly fluttering his eyes open, your beautiful face came into view, smiling radiantly at him.

“Good morning, love.” You brushed another tender kiss on his forehead.

It was a good morning indeed.

You were alive, very much alive, breathing and living another day.

Despite your hopeless condition, another bright morning came to greet you.

“I missed you.” Malleus suppressed the urge to cry.

“That’s my line.” You chuckled, putting your arms around him in a warm embrace.

He nestled his face in your hair, breathing in your soothing scent which always smelled like gentle rainfall in a cool spring morning.

He whispered his sincerest apologies over again and again.

He begged you to forgive him for hurting you with insensitive words, for reacting in a bad way after revealing your sickness to him, and for not being there for you when you needed him the most.

You remained quiet, delicate hands patting his back ever so gently.

Your little actions was enough to convey that he was forgiven.

★ —

Malleus was busy reading the collection of haiku poems you wrote recently, too engrossed in your impressive writings when an impatient knock interrupted him.

“Malleus Draconia, get out of your room this instant.”

Rushing to the door, the young fae was greeted with a look of disbelief from his vice housewarden.

“Have you forgotten about your beloved’s invitation to a sleepover tonight?” Lilia raised a brow at him.

“Oh,” Malleus’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe I almost forgot about it.”

“Get moving boy, can’t keep your precious princess waiting.”

Malleus gave Lilia a thankful smile before teleporting to the Ramshackle dorm.

★ —

Glowing green fireflies surrounded your dim lit room, illuminating every nook and cranny.

No matter how many times you witnessed this scene, it still managed to steal your breath away.

“I hope I’m not late, my love.”

“You’re just in time.” You chortled, beckoning Malleus to join you.

He took in his surroundings, astonished at the simple yet pretty transformation.

You transformed your small room into a cozy fortress.

The floorboards was covered in three layers of comforters, fluffy pillows scattered everywhere, and the pink fairy lights Malleus once gifted you was finally put to use.

You were sitting nearby the open window, letting the night breeze caress your hair.

Malleus quietly plopped down beside you, engulfing one of your slender hands in his gloved ones.

The entire time the two of you didn’t say a word.

You plainly basked in each other’s comforting presence for two hours, and honestly it was more than enough.

At the stroke of midnight, you drew him into a kiss.

As tacky and silly it might sound, you often kissed at midnight because you thought it was romantic.

The stars in your dorm in the middle of the night always gleamed splendidly, as enchanting as the vivid fireflies that Malleus always left in his wake.

Once you broke the kiss, he gazed at you with a look filled with melancholy and deep sorrow.

Smiling at Malleus, you cradled his face in your loving hands, telling him that he shouldn’t feel bad for you.

To begin with, you were already afflicted with illness before you were swept into Twisted Wonderland.

You assured him that he shouldn’t feel sorry for letting you engage in adventurous activities during your dates which strained your health sometimes.

Your dates were either too simple; strolling at night while holding hands, writing poems in the library, making ice-cream cakes at his dorm and sharing your baked goods during lunch in a quiet place. Or too extreme, mostly racing each other in the sports field and soaring high in the skies.

Being able to fly was a childhood dream of yours, so Malleus never hesitated to make your dream come true.

He took you to the skies whenever he could.

Although it drained your energy sometimes, it was worth the risk.

You were an adventurer, a girl who wanted to live her life to the fullest, so any activity spent with Malleus even if it was exhausting was definitely worth it.

“Why did you choose to love me?” He asked after a long silence, tone laced with bashfulness and curiosity.

“Because you have the kind of heart that I can bet my life on.” You exclaimed in delight, gentle voice overflowing with devoted love and sincerity.

“You also have the kind of heart that I can bet my life on, my dearest.” He echoed your words as he smiled fondly at you, green eyes glistening with joyful tears.

Both of you were sure that you could pursue happiness together and love each other endlessly no matter the circumstances.

Before drifting to sleep, you gave him one last kiss for the night, and told him something that he would remember for the many years to come.

“My dear Malleus, when I leave this world, honor me by celebrating the life I lived with you, and don’t mourn my death for too long. It might take a very long time for you to move on and start over again with someone new, but I promise you, you’re going to fall in love again and it’s going to be amazing.”

#🌸hannah’s musings #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #twst scenarios #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x fluff #twst x angst #twst x fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #diasomnia #twst malleus

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j-nope-not-today · 1 year

Note

Hiii!! Love your writting! I have a Bernard x reader request where reader is working for Mr Calvin as Charlie's nanny in order to pay college. She could go with them to north pole where she meets Bernard but they don't want to leave eachother

Your an Elf?

A/n: I'm so glad you like my writing! I hope you like enjoy! Thanks so much for requesting!

Bernard the elf x reader

For as long as I could remember I had this strange feeling that someone out there was meant for me. I guess you could say I strongly believed in the idea of soulmates. I was a little bit of a hopeless romantic growing up. I spent so much of my time searching for something I realized eventually that I was never going to find.

So I gave up my search. I pushed away the small yearning in my heart and focused on more important things. Which led me to where I was now.

In a small local college. Taking a part time job to save up for a job I would hate the rest of my life. Not to say I didn't love it, but I knew at some point I would be bored of it.

Which reminds me that I was running an hour behind for my job. I hope Mr.Calvin would understand my delay. Although that was unlikely I just hoped maybe I could keep my job. Charlie was the only bright spot these days. Always so cheerful and happy. He had become like a brother to me in the time I spent watching over him.

I rushed up the sidewalk to his home and knocked on the door. Out of breathe, but I was here. The door opened and there stood a much bigger Scott than I had remembered.

"I am so sorry I'm late sir."

"No! It's fine. Come on in." Scott smiled and opened the door to let me inside.

"Your usually upset when I'm late?" I stepped inside and took off my coat. Hanging it up on the rack next to the door.

"Well Charlie loves you and your the best sitter I've had so what's it matter if your a little late every now and then."

"Thanks for understanding." I smiled before hearing small footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Wow you came! Y/n I missed you!" Charlie ran down the rest of the stairs and I bent down to give him a hug.

He jumped into my arms and hugged me tight before letting go.

"I have so much to tell you!"

"Awesome! Let's go." I held out my hand and he led me into the living room and sat me on the couch.

He told me how his Christmas was and how he went to the north pole and all of these wonderful things about it. How his father was Santa Clause.

"You have a beautiful imagination Charlie."

"It's the truth! Dad said I could tell you because he wants you to go with!" I let out a small laugh before I heard someone clearing their throat.

I jumped slightly before turning to see Scott in the doorway.

"It's the truth y/n..I need you to come with I have to bring Charlie with me this time, but I still need someone to watch him."

I was so confused. I looked back at Charlie and he jumped off the couch. I watched as he ran upstairs giving me a shout that he would be right back. Before he thundered back down the stairs and made me look into a snow globe.

"Charlie there's nothing here."

"Go on just look at it." I heaved a sigh before I looked into the globe.

Gasping at the swirl of snow on the inside and the small magical little light that shined through the middle.

"Your telling the truth." I looked back at Scott and he smiled.

"Well what do you say?"

"Yeah...of course I'll go." I couldn't believe this. This was truly amazing.

"Yes!" Charlie shouted before he grabbed the globe back from my hands.

"Alright well..we can stop by your place and get your stuff. We might have to spend a night there." Scott spoke up from the doorway and I nodded. Making my way to the coat rack and throwing on my coat.

"How are we getting there?"

"Come on I'll show you!" Charlie placed his hand in mine and ran outside and I followed. He pointed to the roof where there sat reindeer and a sleigh.

"This is crazy.." I was in pure disbelief at all of the magic I was seeing. All of the magic I was told didn't exist.

"Come on let's go it's so cool your gonna love it!"

I followed Charlie and Scott to the roof. Climbing up a ladder and listening to Charlie rave on about the reindeer and how cool the sleigh was.

The sleigh ride was very cool indeed. Charlie left out the small detail of how terrifying it was at first. But after a little while it wasn't so bad.

We had stopped to get my things and I hauled my small bag into the sleigh before we were off again to the north pole. It was beautiful. The view was unlike any other.

What truly took my breath away was the workshop. All of the toys and the elf's and laughing and fun. It was honestly the coolest thing in the world.

"Santa! Welcome back." I turned to see who the voice had come from and it was as if time itself had froze in place.

There was something about the elf in front of me. His hair was dark and curled. He wore the simplest of outfits and it looked really well on him. What enticed me to walk closer was his eyes. Upon a little bit of a closer inspection. They were a dazzling chocolate brown with what looked like specs of gold in them.

"Y/n this is Bernard. Bernard this is y/n, Charlie's baby-sitter." I snapped my eyes to Scott and smiled.

"Hello." I looked back at Bernard and smiled.

"H-hi." He gave a small wave before Scott cleared his throat. I tore my eyes away from him before looking back at Scott.

"I've got some work to do. I need you to keep an eye on Charlie."

"Yeah of course!" I chirped before Scott disappeared.

I turned to see Charlie sitting on the floor with a small toy truck.

"Where'd you get that from?" I walked over to Charlie and bent down and he paused looking up at me.

"Judy gave it to me."

"ooh I see. How about you show me around huh?"

"I can show you around." I jumped slightly before turning to look at Bernard.

Standing up and wiping my hands on my pants I smiled.

"Sure. Come on Charlie." I held my hand out for the small boy. Yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from Bernard and it seemed that he was having the same struggle.

"Let's go." I walked over to Bernard and allowed him to lead the way. Charlie was very interested in the tour and added on small comments the whole time.

But I didn't mind. The time he spent talking me and Bernard stood and stared at one another. It was like my breath stopped when we looked away and I could breathe again when our eyes locked. The tour continued on and as we stopped at certain points for Charlie to look at things closer it gave us the opportunity to talk.

Bernard was the definition of perfect to me. He made me laugh and I had never clicked so well with another person. He was very funny, hardworking I could tell.

Eventually by the end of the tour it felt as if my heart was beating solely for him. Which was strange. We had only just met. Hours had gone by and we had met Scott at the end of our tour.

"Ah there you two are."

"Dad! Guess what I saw." Charlie ran up to Scott and began to tell him about all the cool ways they built the toys.

"Well it sounds like you had a lot of fun bud."

"I had a lot of fun." He laughed

"Alright well how about we go get some cookies. Just me and you champ."

"Yeah!" Scott picked Charlie up and looked at me.

"Your welcome to join. Judy can show you your room."

"You guys go ahead. I'm gonna finish the tour." Scott gave a small nod before walking off with Charlie. I turned my attention back to Bernard.

"Well..uh anything we missed?" Bernard looked behind me and I turned to see what he was looking for. Before I could spot anything a hand was tugging me out of the main part of the workshop.

"Where are we going?" I let Bernard pull me down the halls before he stopped at a door and opened it pulling me inside.

"I have to show you something." He shut the door and walked over to a small desk and began to rifle through the drawers.

"Where are we?" I stepped closer to the desk.

"My office. One of the perks of being head elf." He paused to smile at me and I smiled back.

For some odd reason. Instead of being alarmed at the whole situation I was in. I had full trust in him even though we had only known each other for a few hours.

"Here we go. Look at this." He walked around the desk and placed a small, heart shaped locket into my hands.

"What is it?"

"Just open it and look." I squinted my eyes at him before I did what he said. Inside the locket was a picture of an elf. An elf that looked a whole lot like me.

"Who is this?"

"Y/n." I looked up at him. My heart thudding in my chest.

"Yes?"

"No.. that's-" He let out a sigh running a hand onto his curls. Before taking the locket and placing it onto the desk.

"That's you. Or was you."

"I'm confused.." He set his hands on my shoulders and took a deep breathe.

"When you saw me. You felt like you were..whole again right?" I nodded yes at his words before he continued.

"Me too..you shouldn't be alive, but you are...we were together when you were an elf and your here and your the exact same as before and i-"

"Bernard." He paused and looked at me. Dropping his hands from my shoulders.

"Your rambling.." He let out a small laugh and I took notice of the small well of tears gathering in his eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" I searched his face to see if maybe he was lying, but I knew he was telling me the truth.

"Of course."

"Did you..love me?"

"With all my heart." I smiled at his words. What I had felt I was missing was right in front of me. My search wasn't hopeless.

"Kiss me." I don't know why, but I had to kiss him. It was like every cell in my body was screaming at me to be closer to him than I was.

"Why?" I looked into his beautiful eyes.

"I.. don't know..but I want you to kiss me anyway." I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn't going to ignore the urge I had to kiss him and I didn't.

He placed his lips onto mine and it was as if everything finally clicked into place. What I was meant to do. Who I was meant to be with. When we pulled apart his eyes grew in shock and wonder. We spoke at the same time.

"I remember..."

"Your ears..."

I quickly reached up to feel my ears. That had grown into a point. I laughed before looking back at my true love.

"It seems my ears have grown back."

"Wait..you remembered?" He was shocked I could tell, but I knew he was waiting to see if he had misheard me.

"I remember you Bernard...I remember everything."

"Oh my God..you remember!" He shouted out before pulling me into his arms. I wrapped my arms around him and relished in my luck to have found him again.

"We have to tell Santa!" He pulled away. Peppering my face in kisses before searching around his desk again in a hurry.

"What is it now?" I laughed and he pulled out a hat.

"Wear this for now."

"Thanks." I took the small hat and placed it onto my head. Hiding my ears from sight.

I held out my hand and Bernard slipped his into mine before we left the small office to go in search of Santa.

We spotted him in the center of the workshop and Bernard gave a shout for attention. I listened to the small gasps at the other elf's who seemingly remembered who I was.

"Welcome back." I looked over and smiled at Judy. Giving her a small wave before we stopped in front of Santa.

"Ah! There you are y/n..we've got to get going. Laura needs Charlie to come home."

"I can't go with you." Santa looked down at mine and Bernards intertwined hands before heaving a sigh.

"It's alright if your.. together, but I can't let you stay at the pole y/n..I'm sorry."

I gave Santa a smile and Bernard gave me the go ahead to slip off my hat.

"Y/n your ears.."

"I know Santa."

"Your an elf! Dad you didn't tell me y/n was an elf!" Charlie ran over to me and I smiled at him as he stopped in front of me.

"Hello Charlie."

"Your an elf!"

"I sure am!" Charlie gave me a small hug before running back over to Santa.

"Santa...y/n has to stay." I smiled at Bernard's words and Santa was extremely shocked.

"Your an elf..." He muttered before shaking his head.

"When I get back you two are explaining what's going on." He pointed at the both of us before walking off and I let out a laugh and pulled Bernard towards me.

"I'm so happy you came home." He placed his hands on my face and I gazed into his eyes.

"I'm happy too my love."

#bernard the elf #bernard the elf x reader #the santa clause x reader #the santa clause

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keiscake · 1 year

Text

hawks x gn!reader

fluff/shortfic

a/n ~ i've been listening to this on repeat for the last week, and it inspired a short fic for me to write. i also got the opportunity to test out some photoshopping, with lots of help from my boyfriend. hope you enjoy this short little fic!

you were told that college was a place of love and romance, a place for relationships to bloom and grow. you were a hopeless romantic all your life, so you went into your first year with the expectation that you'd meet someone. though you didn't meet someone, and going into your third year you still hadn't met someone. but you met some great friends.

they were all in couples by the third semester of your first year. todoroki and momo, denki and jirou, deku and uraraka, the list went on. needless to say you were surrounded by couples all the time. but you got used to it eventually, it became the norm after almost two years after all. and after almost two years you finally gave up on the idea of love and romance.

it made you wonder, is loving as good as they say?

you had been counting the day since november. the same november that made you realise that love wasn't meant for you. the same november that dabi had rejected you. it felt like your whole world came crashing down that snowy day. your friends held your hand through it all and reassured you that your time would come, but you decided that you should take it as a sign instead.

you gave a second chance to cupid, but now you were left feeling stupid. your destiny was just not written with a player two. you would just get on with your life as normal. you'd go to class, put your head down in the books, hang out with your friends, what more could you ask for? well, wouldn't it be okay for you to ask the heaven's for one small little thing?

most nights you felt lonely, crying in your room. wishing to find a lover that could hold you. a lover that would embrace you tightly and share the same warmth with you. a lover that would spoil you with kisses and touches. a lover you could build a future with. it was all you wanted. but after that november, you were so skeptical of love.

but maybe you thought that it wasn't the heavens that drifted you away from your destiny with a player two. maybe it was yourself. you could try a little harder instead of relying on fate and cupid. you decided that your destiny was in your hands now. so you built up the courage to speak to him.

he was the closest thing to an angel you had ever seen. golden eyes with a warm and soft gaze, voice soothing and gentle, and crimson red wings. hawks. his name was hawks. he was in the same class as you and spoke to you every now and them. though you never realised how kind he was to you until that day, or how kind he was in general.

hawks started speaking to you outside of class. so you matched his energy by inviting him to hang out with your friends, and it was a hit. he was quickly taken into the group, and you were glad. your friends even teased you about being in a couple with hawks. you didn't detest the idea, just unsure that it was even possible.

but the more hawks stook around the stronger the idea was. he nursed you when you had the flu, panicking to your dorm room with medicine and apologising about not being quick enough. he always made excuses for you if you were late to class or shared his notes if you didn't quite catch everything. it made you realise you were a fool, a fool for love.

and maybe after all that time your hard work paid off. hawks asked you out in november during your third year of college. he took you to the park on a walk so that the two of you could blow off some steam. you walked by the lake that was frozen over, the moon's reflection as clear as day on its icy surface. you admired the view.

whilst you were enticed in the moonlight, hawks wrapped his arms around you and whispered in your ear, "will you be mine y/n?". your face was all hot, despite the ever falling snow. your heart was melting. your hands shaking. your destiny finally falling into place. you were just a hopeless girl seeking for someone to share the feeling with. the feeling of love.

and you found him.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #keigo takami x y/n #keigo tamaki #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #fluff

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simpliao · 2 years

Note

UDBSISNDSIKF MADAM I CANNOT! STOP! SCREAMING!!! THESE FICS!!! UGGGGGHHHHHH

You are one of the few people giving me my JSchlatt fix, and I cherish every second of it. If I may be so humble as to make a request, can I suggest something involving praising and giving some lovin’ to the Big Guy himself? I feel like he’s the kind of guy to not recognize his own value and contributions, especially in a romantic relationship. Sometimes to just need to smooch, hold, pamper, and remind your boyfriend how much you love him. Thank you and bless your goddamn angelic heart🤍

hey, hey, hey lover ; (irl) schlatt x reader

summary : schlatt is adamant about breaking up, y/n sees through it. and even if he doesn't ever feel worthy, if it takes her an eternity of holding him close and assuring him; she'd do it in a heartbeat.

info : angst to fluff, feelings of unworthiness, depression, poor mental health, mentions of anger issues, reader comforting schlatt, she/her, afab reader. title sourced by the amazing song by the daughters of eve.

a/n : SO GLAD YOURE ENJOYING ANON, BLESS YOU TOO AWE ! decided to take his self deprecation to the extreme just to have some heart warming, chicken-soup-for-the-soul type fluff. Still doing my best to roll out requests!

to anyone who may relate to the way schlatt feels, even if you don't have your own y/n please do know you're not alone. people love you so please seek help if possible. you can get through this toots, we're all rooting for you. ♡

Everyone had their down days, days where everything seemed so hopeless and desperate; being that Schlatt wasn't always the most mentally healthy he would have these feelings more often than not. Never dare uttering the things his mind conjured up in the midst of his constant battle against himself. He took medication, medication that he hid in the back of drawers and never mention to his lover, sometimes he'd never find a moment alone and he wouldn't take it. He'd deal with it on his own, this was his problem, and therefore he figured it was his to deal with.

Other people had their own struggles, adding his would only hurt and stress other people. It wasn't worth mentioning, they'd only want to help him to be civil, because they were forced into it out of pity. He knew his girlfriend of so long didn't need that added stress when she's already practically worked herself to death, she didn't need him to weigh her down.

That's when real rainy days rolled in, when he wouldn't take his levothyroxine, when his lover found herself working late nights and leaving him alone at midnight with nothing but his own thoughts. Sleep would never find him, his mind too busy overthinking every decision in life, he wasn't doing enough, he wasn't enough. He'd find on those still, cloudy nights, nothing but doubt; Y/n must be working late because she can't stand me anymore. Every little distant memory finds a way to him, he wasn't the kind of guy to like PDA, she wanted to hold hands but he didn't, she must still resent him for it.

It sounds slightly exaggerated and stupid, like he was one of those alt, fifteen year old girls he oftentimes would poke fun at. But being in the right state of mind meant that he couldn't see past the fog of doubt that clouded his better judgement. She'd always kiss him goodbye, she'd always whisper the sweetest of nothings into the lobe of her ear, and repeat time and time again how much she loved him; but he was sure she did it out of pity. Who could possibly love him? His temper was short, he was by no means ever the hottest guy in the room, he told stupid jokes that he knew people only laughed at because they had to.

Y/n deserved so much better, just seeing her smile left a bittersweet ache in his chest; she would be happier with someone else. He adored her like she hung the stars and moon themselves, she was otherworldly beautiful to him, always so caring and bright. She was the light holding him together, but he was convinced he was the darkness that consumed and poisoned her life. Her insistence of her love was nothing more than sweet lies that he felt as if he just knew weren't true.

Those murmurs from within the confines of his mind reminded him of this constantly, a fake truth of his own worth and care from others. They whispered lies that would occupy his mind rent free, no one would ever truly love him because there was nothing there to love. Why was Y/n even with him? If he truly loved her he would want her to be happy, and how could she ever be happy with him? He was imperfect, he was damaged, why would she want a relationship that forced her to pick up the pieces he struggled to pick up on his own?

It all cumulating to a breaking point inside him, when Y/n confronted him about it. Her voice gentle and hesitant, she'd picked up on his behaviours for a while but marked it up to stress or just an off day. It slowly bled into his work, his relationship; becoming more closed off and distant. She wasn't entirely sure what was happening, that was until she found the pill bottle whilst cleaning up their bathroom. The original worry of some kind of addiction morphed into pain and regret once she searched up said medication's name to find out what it happened to be: anti-depressants.

She felt the realization sink into the bottom of her stomach, how could she not have known or have been there for him? She was determined to make it right on her end; be the girlfriend that she knew her boyfriend desperately needed and deserved.

"Darling, had there been something on your mind?" She didn't want to immediately jump into her findings, maybe he had an explanation for them? The last thing she wanted was to make him defensive and start a fight. She could have never anticipated the words that fell past his lips, all while never managing to hold eye contact longer than a few seconds at most.

"I..." want to hold you and have you tell me everything is okay "...want to break up." She stood before him shellshocked, mouth agape and seemingly straining to try and say even a single word. Eyebrows furrowed together with only a single thing escaping her, "what..?" Confusion evident upon her delicate features, Schlatt was breaking apart from the inside. She tried to take a step forwards, but all he did was take one back; maintaining the space between them. If she got to close, if her touch graced his skin and he'd be sucked back into his addiction of the feeling of her, he'd lose his self control and break apart. She didn't need his mess, it was his to fight alone; she deserved to fly.

"Why?" Her words were much firmer, a saddened tone lacing between them. At first came heartbreak, and slowly as she awaited for an answer to her cracked voice, she could see with the brief moments of eye contact something clouded in his eyes. He was hurting... It kind of clicked that he was pushing her away, he was trying to cope and prevent her from finding out the truth. He was still suffering, and knowing Schlatt as long as she has, it was in character.

She blinked away tears, he was ready to get into a shouting match and braced for the absolute worst. What he didn't brace for were the arms of his girlfriend to wrap around him, soothing voice never ceasing. It was a risk on her part, if he was genuinely wanting to break up and she babied him like this he would certainly blow a fuse; but she had faith in what she's learned in all their time spent together. And to her favour, rather than get upset, he melted into her embrace. "I don't..." He paused at his words, trying to bite his tongue of his words. "...I don't love you anymore." Those words did sting, no question about it, but he wasn't in his proper state of mind. Y/n promised to be with him until the end, she intended to live up to that promise, and now was not the end; just a bad day.

"I know, Schlatt. I know you're taking medication to try and help yourself." He tensed up at her words, in response she only made her grasp more reassuring and tightening her hold; letting him know she's there. "I really do love you, you know that right? I understand your belief in privacy, but you're obviously hurting; and seeing you hurt really does hurt me too." His large hands slowly came up to rest upon the back of her head and her back, head hung downward to face her. "Please don't hurt because of me." It was similar to that of a desperate plea of a disciplined child, as if he was the one at fault. "I don't hurt because of you, I hurt for you; that's because I love you."

"Then maybe you shouldn't love me." His words, spoken in a hushed manner whilst he kept his eyes glued to hers, filled with such belief of the falsehood. "I will always love you. Please, talk to me. What made you want to break up..?" He held a pause for a handful of moments, heart in a tough ache before he breathed out his confession. "Because you deserve someone better. Someone who won't hurt you, who'll make you happier." Her eyes watered at this, he'd been hurting so bad and what had she done? Seeing him like this, defeated, nothing like he should ever be, killed her a little on the inside.

"Schlatt." Her doe-like wide eyes are those that he could stare into forever, "no one will ever make me happier than you do. You're just... You're my everything. You think of me when I don't think of myself, you're secretly so damn compassionate, the most loving person I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting..." She burrowed her head into his chest, "and it kills me thinking you'll never see yourself the way I see you. You complete me, so please don't punish yourself to fight this alone. I'm here for you, and I always will be."

He practically fell into her arms at that point, gripping onto her like she'd be forever whisked away should his grip every loosen. Something in his chest alleviated, and for once he could finally breathe again. Holding her in his arms felt so natural, like they were always meant to be this close and interlocked together. For the first time a good while, he could feel the love again. She knew his feelings of self hatred and inability to handle praise wasn't just magically blown away, internally was still scarred and beaten down, he was still hurting. But at least for right now she could soothe his pain even just a little, and take the first steps towards recovery.

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thebluemoonjune · 15 days

Text

The Sounds Of A Black Dahlia- Prologue

Summary:

8 years after marrying into a rich but cruel and messed-up family, Michonne, a loving mother and dutiful wife, finds herself in the middle of a brewing storm that may take everything she cares for, all while an unexpected member of the family returns, wanting to cause even more chaos and uproot her already troublesome life. AU Richonne centred. The first chapter is the prologue.

Today was the day—the day that her life would undoubtedly change forever. She ground her teeth in anxious worry, rocking back and forth or side to side as her fingers sought out anything she could hold onto. She looked regal as he stared at herself in the mirror, heart stumbling over its own rhythm. She couldn’t take it anymore. She got up, deciding it was best to work off her anxiety by pacing the room.

Girl, relax! Your heart is beating so fast, it’ll burst!

“Michonne! Calm down! You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing.”

“Me getting married is nothing, Sasha?”

“You told me months ago you loved this man. Your families may have pushed for this, but you told me it was okay because you fell in love with him. So why so nervous.”

“I just turned twenty… What the hell do I know about being a wife? What if I’m not ready? What if I mess up? My brother always says I’m childish. What if he thinks that? He’s six years older than me, after all. What if he changes his mind?” Michonne covered her face as her mind ran a marathon and Maggie snatched them from her.

“Stop it! You’ll mess up your makeup! I am not gonna let my best friend get married looking a damn hot mess! Get your shit together! As Sasha said, you said you loved him; this is something both your families want. It’s good you got feelings for him because you’d still have to marry him if your folks get their way. And could you, being a hopeless romantic, imagine a loveless marriage? You get to marry your first love; your first time will be with your husband; damn, he was your first kiss! He is also from one of the wealthiest families in the country and the world. You are living a fairy tale and you deserve it because you are the sweetest person I know!”

“I what if he’s having second thoughts? I’d be so embarrassed!” Sasha rolled her eyes, and going to her side.

“You told us he is the kindest, amazing, sweetest, funniest, protective, charming, understanding, most patient guy you had ever met. That’s not me exaggerating!” The three giggled as they tried to contain their emotions. “Those are your words. Honestly, Maggie and I were worried. You don’t have any experience, and it was clear your family was pushing this, but to hear how you spoke about him, it gave me relief.”

“It gave us relief.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Really! Do you wanna marry him? Believe it or not, he is not who matters here. Chonnie, you are so young and you may love him, but that’s not all it takes. You gotta be sure about these things.”

“Maggie!”

“Let her answer. Let her think about it. This is a goddamn life-changing decision, and she’s never even had sex. His dick could be small for all we know and she just goes in. We gotta know that she loves him regardless. That this, is what she wants, not her parents’ eagerness confusing her. I don’t want her to make a mistake either way.”

“Okay! Okay, I see your point—”

“I love him. I want to marry him… I do!”

“Are you sure? Think about it!”

“I’m sure, Maggie.”

“Well, you heard our girl!”

“I’m getting married!” Their mouths pulled into a silent O, increasingly as they processed the news. They soon began screaming in excitement.

The three of them held hands. Now that her friends had calmed her down, she smiled so widely, her eyes nearly pinched shut. At the same time, a knock came, and her brother Michael peeked his head in the door.

“You know, Mike, when one knocks, they usually wait for a response.” Michonne threw daggers at him and he rolled his eyes, letting himself in.

“Shut up. I see you guys worked your magic, She actually looks like a person—an adult, even. She ready?”

“She just needs her veil, but emotionally, she’s ready.” Sasha tucked it in Michonne’s hair, letting it fall over her face and she eyed Mike up and down.

“Alright, you guys, go let the others know so we can get this show on the road. My dad will come for her at the walkway.”

“Okay!” The two sent kisses and left.

“You look beautiful.” His eyes softened as he held her cheek. “Are you sure you're ready? I’ll talk to Mom and Dad. You don’t—”

“I’m ready. I promise.”

“Okay, I’m heading back. Meet us at the walkway in ten minutes.”

Michonne approached the mirror, lifted her veil, and observed herself. Her hands were balled into fists, covering her smile, big eyes gleaming over her knuckles. Her heart was still beating, but she was content as she admired her long-sleeved, ivory-stone, lace, round-neck wedding gown. Though modest, displaying no cleavage and merely her neckline, and rather traditional, it was a stunning gown. She realised why her mother chose it. They couldn't allow the media any room for criticism since they married into a white, rich family. She had to be flawless. She considered spinning around to check behind her, but decided against it since her long veil might tangle. It was time for her to leave. She shouldn’t dilly-dally any longer. She hiked up her dress and walked out the door, only to be graced by an unexpected soul leaning on the wall in a brown suit, puffing on a cigarette.

What is he doing here?

“Rick?” Surprised, she couldn’t help calling out his name. He cast his gaze in her direction, allowing their eyes to meet.

“Oh… Hey. Everyone’s waiting for you. Your bridesmaids are already in position.”

“I know; thank you for the information.”

She always wanted to say as little to him as possible. He always made her uncomfortable, like she was an outsider he would never see as anything else. So polite, it came off cold. His eyes were never still, and he only glimpsed at her in passing. Today, however, he seemed more laid back.

I didn’t even know he smoked.

“Congrats, by the way.”

“For what?

“I heard your girlfriend Lori had a baby boy.” He smiled, clearly thinking about his newborn.

“Yeah… His name is Carl.”

“Given that I’ll be his new aunt, I’ll have to get him a good gift.”

She let out an innocent smile in his direction. Rick’s eyes narrow, studying her from head to toe, causing her scepticism to be reflected by a single lifted brow. He chuckled at her reaction. Keeping his blue eyes on her, he put out his cigarette, outing it on the wall, walking right up to her and invading her space.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Her brows formed a deep, perplexed wrinkle as she examined his face for answers she couldn’t find.

“You don’t have to do this, you know? Are you so afraid of Mommy and Daddy that you’d get married without so much of a peep?”

“I—”

“You ain’t one of us. You’re never gonna be one of us… It doesn’t matter who you marry or what last name you got; you don’t got our blood. You ain’t like us and you’re never gonna be like us. You can run right now. I’ll cover for you. It’ll be a little embarrassing for my brother, but he’ll thank both of us when things calm down… Trust me, this is for the best.” She blinked hurriedly, her pupils dilating as she struggled to make sense of the contradicting information.

“What is your problem with me?”

“I don’t have a problem with you; this is just advice.”

“Yes, you do! You treat me like I’m beneath you, like an afterthought.”

“Am I supposed to be friendly with you? We’re not friends; this marriage is all business too. You okay with rushing into a marriage that neither of you want?”

“What do you know! I am getting married, whether you like it or not. You don’t have the blood or the name either! Everybody knows that! So how can you stand there and insult me? I haven’t done anything to you. When I sign that marriage certificate, I’ll have the name since it’s so important to you! My children will have the blood too; that’s more than you. You are a Grimes. You aren’t one of them either…” His vast blue eyes widened in dismay before becoming dark and serious with acceptance.

“You’re right… I’m not.” His lips pulled down in a comical frown. “I—”

“Michonne!”

His expression caught her off guard. Nausea churned her stomach the more she looked at him and the more ashamed she felt. He was about to say something but the sharp voice of her father came from behind, stopping them in their tracks.

“Michonne, your late!”

“Sorry!”

Michonne hurriedly snatched up her dress with all its weight and dashed to her father’s side, who assisted with the train. She took a couple of steps forward and twisted her neck to catch a glimpse of Rick. He was leaning against the wall, a new cigarette in his lips, and looking aimlessly at the floor. She could not focus on him right now. She was set to get married. She pushed those strange thoughts to the back of her mind and concentrated on what lay ahead. Her father tucked her hand under his arm as they approached the chapel.

“Michonne.”

“Daddy?”

“You have to remember to do your wifely duties. You listen to your husband and honour his parents. Always remember your place. After today, you are a Walsh. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Daddy…” She understood exactly what he meant. From today on, she was not their concern and she shouldn’t make mistakes that would reflect badly on them, regardless of whether she lived well or not. Her typically bright visage had darkened and become withdrawn.

“Good.” He tapped her hand repeatedly in acceptance, and his lips curled into a sneer.

They finally entered, and seeing her soon-to-be husband, all those bad thoughts faded away. He gazed at her with a light smile on his face. She had a maid of honour, Sasha, who clarified that the position was hers and Maggie was her bridesmaid; she had no others, not even her sister. Shane’s party also had two people, including his brother Monty, who served as his best man. He originally hoped for Rick, but he rejected it for unknown reasons. It didn't matter; everything was marvellous. Going down the aisle brought everything into perspective for her. Even with Sasha and Maggie’s assistance, she could feel the train of her gown and veil trailing behind her. They made it after what felt like a long journey. Her father handed her away, and her fiancé placed her hand in his. The chaplain delivered his sermon, and she was in a daze until they exchanged vows and said, ‘I do’ to cap it all off. The couple signed their papers in front of the media.

“Alright, I need the married couple. Mr. and Mrs. Walsh, I need a picture of you cutting the cake, then we’ll go to the gardens.”

They followed the photographer’s wishes. They fed each other cake and Michonne grinned ear to ear the entire time. She didn’t know why she was so nervous in the first place. During it all, her newlywed husband was quiet during all of it, He was never much of a talker so she paid it no mind. He held her lower back and lifted her dress as he guided her to the garden. They took various photos. There was one particular one that stood out. She was standing next to him under a large, royal white-flowering redbud tree. Its sweet pea scent filled the air with a gentle, lovely fragrance. Michonne closed her eyes and inhaled the soothing scent that brushed across her nose. They were supposed to look ahead but it didn’t work out that way. Next to her husband, a baby duck had fallen behind, drawing his attention from the shoot and causing her to gaze at him. The photographer was going to delete it and try again but Michonne went to see it as she had done with all the others. His eyes looked sad, staring at the baby duck, which made her giggle. She was staring at him, basket in concern, with an outstretched hand

So sensitive! But it’s adorable. I want it.

“I like it; let’s keep it!” She called him over to show him. “Cute, right?”

“You don’t gotta keep it… We can take better ones.” She shook her head in protest.

“Nope, I’m keeping it. We can show our children how sensitive their daddy is.” She let out a sweet laugh. “Are you embarrassed? Is that why you don’t want to?” He looked at his feet for a moment before returning eye contact with her with a soft smile.

“If it makes you happy, we’ll keep it.” Her eyes were alight with joy as she giggled uncontrollably.

“I love you, Shane.” He took her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her fingers. “When we’re done, we can go to the pond and feed the ducks.”

“Hmm.”

“Redbud trees look nice.” She reached out to him, straightening his tux.

“Hmm.”

“There is a longstanding myth that Judas Iscariot hanged himself from a tree of this species... And yet, since the leaves are heart-shaped, it makes for a beautiful symbolic display of love that everyone has come to associate them with… Funny, isn’t it?”

“Hmm.”

“Is grunting all you’re going to do, my dear husband?”

“No.”

“Well, then, talk with me. What do you like and what do you hate? Did you enjoy the cake?”

“I enjoyed the cake... Today is your day; it ain’t about me.” His eyes dropped again. “It’s our day—it’s our wedding. Shane, it’s about the both of us; don’t forget that.”

“It’s time for the family portrait.”

Both sets of relatives gathered in the sea of royal white-flowering redbud trees. Sasha and Maggie fixed her gown, and the photographer positioned everyone right away. In the mids of things, Michonne caught that some people weren't present. She scanned the surrounding area and noticed Rick standing by the side, under a tree, with his girlfriend, Lori, as she held their baby boy.

“Wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Rick isn’t here. He’s your brother; he should be here. Same as Carl and Lori.” Shane came to a realisation when he heard his wife’s words. His little brother wasn’t there. Following Michonne’s line of sight. He caught him in his view and waived him over.

“Rick! Come on, man! Don’t keep us waiting!” Rick stood there, unwilling to move. It was Lori who forced him over. “Alright! Now that lover-boy is here, let’s do this.” Shane slapped his brother on the back.

Since the reception was held in the gardens as well, they evacuated the media so Michonne could finally relax and not worry about how she looked to others. Everyone was having a merry old time. Sasha was harassing her brother Mike and Maggie was down drinking. Shane had gone with his father and brother, talking to business associates. She was sitting at the table alone when her mother-in-law Eleanor, sat next to her.

“Not taking part in the festivities?”

“I’m okay.”

“Mhmm. You know, Michonne, I like you.”

“Huh?”

“I see a lot of myself in you.” Eleanor reached out and played with Michonne’s diamond earring. “You’re a sweet, young girl, yes, even naive. No doubt your parents had you under lock and key. I’d say that you’d be eaten up and swallowed whole, but I see this spark in you—this resilience, this loyalty… You’ll be a good wife for my son. He doesn’t need some floozie who thinks a baby is gonna make all her dreams come true. You’re a good, smart girl who will learn and survive. It’s why my cunt of a husband and I chose you. My son needs someone like you by his side.”

“I don’t—I don’t think I understand…” She admitted, her voice carrying the resignation of someone who had yet to find answers. Eleanor withdrew her hand from the clueless girl.

“Of course not, dear, but you will, given time. A word of advice, keep your thoughts to yourself; do not care what anyone else has to say and you’ll be just fine. I know a diamond when I see it… I’ve enjoyed this talk.”

Eleanor got up, leaving Michonne spluttering incoherent sounds, as if her thoughts were too tangled to express. Eleanor was always sweet to her. She didn’t quite understand much of their cryptic discussion nor did her mother-in-law wish to explain it. Michonne didn’t know just how valuable those words would come to mean or their weight. She was in thought until her husband came to fetch her.

“Are you ready?

“Mhmm.”

...

8 years, 9 months later

They stood over what seemed to be a lifeless corpse, Michonne’s white heels stained with fresh blood. Time slows as the gravity of the situation weighs it down. She grabbed her chest, her fingers quivering, as if attempting to keep her pounding heart from escaping. Then she put her quivering tips against her temples, attempting to calm the frenetic ideas racing through her skull, each one a teasing reminder of her rising terror. Their breath came in jagged, uneven gasps, as if their lungs strained to suck in oxygen within the crushing grasp of dread, each inhaling a war against their own panic as their eyes met. They were fucked.

...

Now that the prologue is complete, the key points to properly understanding this story are colour, styling, clothing, relationships, and references to sayings and myth. The colours will tell you a lot or lead you astray. I put both negative and positive for a reason. Sometimes one will apply, and sometimes both will apply. I was listening to the succession theme the whole time I was writing Chapter One while listening to Jon and Daenerys love theme/suite, plus it was also an element mix of the Og Dynasty and Bold and the Beautiful. Og characters will be in this as main players, along with Richonne, Carl, Shane, Andrea, Magna, Maggie, Sasha, Beth, Daryl, Negan, Phillip, and Jessie. I don’t know if I missed someone; I probably did. So I have a little chart that will be updated as the story goes on. It is not a necessity but to keep track as the story goes on...if it goes on. you can skip everything below!

Family Chart

…

THE WALSH’s

Original Branch

…

Ronan Lucius Walsh II

Ronan Lucius Walsh III (66), Patrick Friedrich Walsh (42), Cillian Artorius Walsh (63), John (61) Castus Walsh, Joseph Caesar Walsh (58)

Branch 1.1

John Castus Walsh (61), Eleanor Olivier Grimes-Walsh (55),

Shane Johnathan Walsh (34), Shawn Montgomery Walsh (32), Kendall Oliva Walsh {K} (28)

Branch 1.2

John Castus Walsh (61), Andrea Holden (36)

Alexander Malcolm Walsh (18), Andrew John Walsh (11)

Branch 2.1

Shane Johnathan Walsh (34), Michonne Marie Walsh {Chonne} (28)

Andre John Anthony Walsh{AJ} (6), Maliyah Olivier Marie Walsh {Lia} (3)

Branch 2.2

Shawn Montgomery Walsh {Monty} (32), Magna Anders (27)

N/A

GRIMES’

Eleanor Olivier Walsh-Grimes , James Augustus Remus??

Richard Daniel Grimes {Rick} (30), Lori Wayne (30)

Carl Arthur Grimes (8)

HAWTHORNE’s

Michael Mace Hawthorne (59), Michelle Marie Hawthorne (55)

Michael Micah Hawthorne {Mike}(33), Macie Maya Hawthorne (31), Michonne Marie Walsh (28)

Chapter-1

Chapter-2

#michonne grimes #richonne fandom #maggie rhee #sasha williams #richonne #richonne fic #richonne fanfiction #rick x michonne #Rick Grimes #Michonne

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