#sorry duke I couldn’t think of anything for you

[luxaofhesperides]

Final hour Ghostlights request! Soulmate AU where when your soul mate dies your soul mark expands. Duke was really heartbroken at first but now his soul mark makes it really difficult to keep his secret identity hidden because he is covered in a map of the cosmos. He has to use his shadow powers almost constantly to keep all the stars hidden! And and maybe they light up like actual stars when he uses his light powers.

He meets Danny at orientation or something at GU and they brush against each other and he just lights up like a supernova, all his stars literally blazing and he's just like "YOU!" Both excited and also OH MY GOD YOU ASSHOLE.

....I rambled a bit here I'm so sorry.

The thing about soulmates is that you don’t really know who they are until they die. And even then, most people never know who their soulmate was, only that they outlived them.

Duke became one of those people when he was thirteen. 

He didn’t even notice until he went to change and saw the watercolor swirl of nebula spill out from over his heart. 

One moment, he was tired and angry, ready to sneak out of his latest foster home to search for his parents and do all the things adults have failed to do. The next, he’s collapsed on his knees, shaking, unable to breathe as he tries to rip his soulmark off of his skin. He couldn’t think past the shock and horror of realizing that his soulmate is dead and Duke didn’t even know until that moment. 

They’ll never get to meet. 

Duke had never felt so alone before. 

He spent the next few days in shock, his mind a mess of static, unable to focus. He hid away in his room, buried under the covers, and his foster parents were understanding when he whispered my soulmate’s dead. They called him out of school and brought him food and water throughout the day, gentle encouraging him to eat something every few hours. 

But disaster waits for no one, and Batman was gone, so Duke pulled himself out of his misery and hit the streets again. 

So his soulmate’s dead. So his parents are gone. So Gotham’s falling apart.

No one’s doing anything about it, so it’s up to Duke to start fixing things. It’s not like he had much to lose.

Soulmates become a bit of a taboo topic to him, after that. He speaks of them to no one, avoids all conversation about them, refuses to stay when people talk about soulmarks. He tries not to look at his soulmark at all.

And then he takes a hit to the chest and patches himself up with shaking hands. For the first time in months he looks at his soulmark again and…

Did it… grow? 

Duke prods it gently, letting out a hiss when his bruised ribs protest at the movement. He remembers the mark being right over his heart. 

But looking at it now, it branches out, swirls of galaxy and constellations reaching out along his ribcage. 

Panicked, Duke grabs for his computer and looks up soulmark growth and webmd soulmark abnormalities.

Neither give him any answers, though WebMD helpfully suggests skin cancer. 

“I’m gonna ignore this,” Duke decides, and pulls on a shirt and goes to sleep. The less he thinks about his dead soulmate, the better. 

Time passes and Duke goes from being a Robin to being the Signal, a legitimate vigilante working with Batman. It’s nice to see Gotham start to settle, things falling into place. For once, nothing is awful; Duke’s found his parents and doctors are looking for a cure for long-term exposure to Joker Gas, Batman’s taking care of Gotham with a number of other Bats, Duke is getting used to his powers and slowly making a good name for himself out on the streets. 

He keeps his focus on protecting people and getting stronger, helping solve cases with the other Bats. No one mentions soulmates, so he keeps his ever expanding soulmark a secret. 

The only problem is that it keeps growing and Duke is concerned that it’ll move to a place he can’t easily hide under his clothes. 

And he does need to hide them. The more his soulmark has grown, the more obvious it is, especially when he uses his powers and the stars on his skin light up like the Fourth of July. He knows it’s abnormal, but it’s also his soulmark and he doesn’t want anyone, least of all Bruce, poking around trying to study it. 

The grief still lingers when he looks at it, but Duke has long since grown used to it. If anything, these days he’s quietly annoyed by how far the galaxies on his skin spread out, forcing him to take tank tops and shorts out of his wardrobe. 

There’s also the tentative hope that maybe his soulmate is immortal and keeps coming back to life after they die. And they must also have terrible luck, because they just keep on dying.

Case in point: his soulmark flares and spills out onto his shoulder and wraps around his bicep. It’s not the first time he’s seen it move, but it still startles him.

“Are you serious,” Duke mutters to himself, pulling at his sleeve to adjust it and hopefully hide his soulmark. The starts are bright against his skin, and while sometimes he likes to trace them with his finger, now is not one of those times.

As pretty as it is, his soulmark is also very obvious and will cause people to realize his identity if they ever catch a glimpse of it while he’s out as Signal. 

He sighs. There’s no choice but to live out the rest of his life in hoodies and sweatshirts. 

As if to spite him, his soulmark grows once more. 

Did his soulmate just die twice in the span of five minutes? That’s concerning. 

He wishes he could meet them just so he can shake some sense into them. Maybe tell them to stop dying since it’s stressing him out so much. Maybe stick by their side to make sure they never have to die again. He’s honestly not sure what he’d do if he ever meets his soulmate, but he has to do something. This has gotten out of hand.

At least seeing his soulmark grow doesn’t hurt as much as it did a few years ago. 

Lazily, he pulls at the light around him to hide the new portions of the soulmark on his arm from sight. It takes some focus, but he can hold it up long enough for him to grab a snack from the kitchen and retreat up to his room without being questioned by anyone. He could probably even keep this shirt on for the college orientation he needs to attend later in the day if the light works well enough to keep his secrets hidden. 

He’s expecting Alfred in the kitchen when he arrives, but is greeted by Dick clapping a hand on his shoulder, right where his soulmark has claimed space. Duke falters and works to keep the light from fracturing as he returns Dick’s grin. 

“Hey man,” he says, “What are you doing here? I thought you were out until Friday.”

“And miss a chance to hang out with you? No way. Besides, I wanted to give you a ride to your orientation.”

“You don’t have to,” Duke starts, only for Dick to cut him off.

“I’m going to,” he says, as if it’s a threat. “It’s been too long since we get to spend time together without a mask on. Are you really going to deprive me of this?”

Duke shakes off Dick’s hand from his shoulder, walking towards the pantry to find a small snack. “I guess not. It’s going to be pretty boring for you, though. I’m just going to listen to people talk about what college is like for a few hours.”

“We could always just walk around campus afterwards. I haven’t seen it since it was rebuilt after the last time Freeze attacked it.”

“Sure, that sounds fun. Thanks for offering to drive me.” Duke pulls out a box of Poptarts hidden behind stacks of pasta boxes and pulls out a pack for himself. He opens it and isn’t at all surprised when Dick steals one right out of his hands. 

“Meet me out front in an hour then.” 

And with that, Dick leaves, his stolen Poptart in hand, and Duke is left to shake his head and shove the Poptart box back into its hiding place. He heads off to eat his own snack, making sure no one is in the hallway as he lets go of his hold on the light. Already he can feel a migraine building with the immense focus he had to use to make sure nothing looked out of place.

At least Dick didn’t notice anything was off. If he can fool Dick, he can fool anyone.

Still, just to be safe, Duke changes into something with longer sleeves before he leaves and hops into the car with Dick. 

The drive goes quickly to the tunes of ABBA, both of them singing along as they head for the GCU campus. Parking is a bit tricky, but they manage to find a spot a street away and walk towards the student union, where tables are laid out for incoming freshmen to sign in and grab a folder filled with papers meant to help them. 

He waves to Dick and heads in once he gets his folder, and grabs a seat in the auditorium that’s close to a fire exit. 

It takes another twenty minutes for the presentations to start. The lights dim and Duke panics for a brief moment before drawing the shadows over himself lightly to hide the soft glow of the star etched onto his skin. 

They start with introductions, bringing in advisors, professors, and student ambassadors. Most of it is basic information that Duke already knows, so he zones out and plays with some shadows at his feet, where no one can see the way he twists shadows together like some dark magic form of finger knitting.

For the next hour, Duke halfheartedly listens to people talk about preparing for classes and keeping on top of schoolwork and learning how to ask for help. He’s saved enough college students that he knows the gist of things, and the orientation really doesn’t give him anything helpful. 

He probably could have skipped, but he wanted a normal college experience. 

He should have known that normal means boring as hell.

As soon as the presentation ends, an advisor encourages everyone to follow the schedule tucked into their folder to give them a half day modeled after a typical student’s schedule. Of course, all the classes are nonsense just to fill up their time, made to help freshmen coming into the college by covering topics such as how to write an email and an introduction to majors and minors.

Duke already declared himself as a Human Services major, his first step into becoming a social worker like his mom was. 

Also he totally knows how to write an email, what are these advisors on about? Do they really think people his age can’t write emails? 

Yeah, he’s ditching. The main presentation is really the only part that matters in the orientation. He’s not walking out on anything he needs.

Duke files out after the rest of the crowd, carefully letting the shadows slip off of him once he’s outside again. Instead of finding the first ‘class’ he’s supposed to go to in the Modern Languages building, he wanders off to find a quiet place he can sit down and wait until Dick finds him. 

Tucked away towards the back half of the campus is a small nook full of trees, bushes, and benches. Judging by the amount of cigarette butts left in the single trash can there, it’s a popular smoking spot. 

No one’s there, so the air is clean and free of smoke, so Duke heads in, hoping to sit down.

Someone else apparently has the same idea. He hops down from one of the concrete planters that’s keeping a bush contained and nearly falls on Duke.

They both shout in surprise, then Duke is moving without thinking, reaching out to steady the startled looking guy who accidentally jumped down in front of him. 

Duke only has time to take note of how blue his eyes are before his hands wrap around the guy’s wrist and Duke feels his soulmark flare with warmth.

In the shade of the trees, the glow of each star on his skin is obvious. It’s visible even through the fabric of his shirt. His soulmark, at this point in his life, stretches across his chest, his ribs, his back, and now his shoulders and upper arms. All the stars in that watercolor galaxy are shining brightly as if the night sky has been draped across his body.

Soulmarks only react like that for one reason.

“You!” Duke shouts at his soulmate, both elated to see that he’s alive and annoyed that he made Duke’s soulmark so large. “Stop dying! Do you have any idea how much stress you’ve caused me?!”

“Oh my god,” the guy says faintly, eyes fixed on Duke’s chest where his soulmark originally rested, shining brighter and bigger than any other star, as if he’s tucked a sun into his heart. “Oh my god,” he says again, with more feeling.

“I’m so happy you’re alive, but please stop dying. It’s bad for my health.”

“I think I need to sit down?”

He does look very pale and faint. Duke tightens his grip on his soulmate’s arms and guides him to a bench, gently sitting him down.

“You’re not about to die, right?” Duke asks. “I don’t think my heart could take it if meeting me killed you somehow.”

“No, no,” his soulmate manages to say, “I’m not going to die. Um. Wow. I didn’t know my soulmark would do that? Sorry.”

“Well, it’s not like you had any way of knowing. It’s all good, man. Just please stop dying.”

His soulmate winces. “Yeah, that’s not gonna be possible. Sorry. Again.”

What does that mean, though? What does it all mean?

“Can I maybe get an explanation as to why you have to die again.”

“Mmmmm no. We just met and it’s kinda personal so. No.”

“Dude.”

Duke’s soulmate shrugs helplessly. “It really is personal! I know your my soulmate and all, so I’ll probably tell you one day, but right now I don’t even know your name.”

Oh shit. He’s right. Introductions completely slipped his mind, too busy reeling over the fact that his soulmate is here and alive. Which, honestly, would be enough to throw anyone off balance.

“Shoot,” Duke says. “Sorry. You just really caught me off guard. Hi, I’m Duke, I promise I’m more put together than that.”

“Hi Duke, I’m Danny, and I’ve apparently been traumatizing you for the past few years by making you think I keep dying.”

“Well. At least we’re thrown head first into the crazy. Best way to know if we’re be a good match.”

“You sure you can handle this? You seemed pretty frazzled a second ago.”

Duke flusters and lightly whacks Danny’s shoulder. “That’s normal! Anyone would do the same when meeting their soulmate for the first time!”

“Fair enough,” Danny laughs. “This is a totally weird request and you can absolutely say no, but… can I see?” He presses a hand against one of the glowing stars beneath this collar bone, looking up at Duke with wide, hopeful blue eyes, and Duke finds it so cute that he’s willing to do anything Danny wants. 

“Here,” he says as an answer, pulling the collar of his shirt down a bit to reveal the nebula spilling onto his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Danny breathes, tracing a light finger against it. “It’s beautiful.”

“I’m guessing you like space?”

“Love it. I wanted to be an astronaut, but uh…. It’s never going to happen. Health problems, you know?”

“Well, I know it’s not the same, but I hope the stars you put on my body will be a good enough replacement.”

Danny cheeks turn red and he turns away, flustered. “Don’t smooth talk me right now, I’m not ready for it,” he mutters, bringing up a hand to try to hide his expression. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Duke laughs, “I’ll try to keep the flirting down to a minimum. It’s just really great to finally meet you. And I’ve been wondering, what’s your soulmark look like?”

“Oh, well…” Danny fiddles with the long sleeve of his shirt. “I had a pretty bad accident years ago that kinda affected how my soulmark looks. So if it looks weird, that’s why, okay?” He takes a deep breath, then pushes up his sleeve, holding his wrist out to Duke. 

The first thing Duke notices is the soft yellow glow, Signal yellow to be precise, running down his arm as if sunlight fills his veins. Then he sees Danny’s soulmark, a sun with rays that wrap around his wrist. And running through his soulmark are Lichtenberg scars, glowing yellow as if stealing the color from his soulmark. 

“Guess we both got super obvious soulmarks, huh? At least we kinda match, that way.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Danny agrees. 

“Man, what a day.” 

Danny looks more relaxed with him now. It’s much better than the startled, tense version of him that first sat down on the bench. Duke hopes he chooses to stay with him; he doesn’t admit this often, willingly, or to other people, but he’s a romantic at heart and has always wanted to live a happy life with his soulmate. It’s still far off in the future, but he hopes Danny feels the same way.

“So, are you ditching the orientation classes to?” Danny asks.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m going. I mean, a class on how to send emails? They can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?! I saw that and thought I was being pranked. I mean, we’re going into college. We better know how to send an email by now.”

“Since we’re both free for now, wanna grab lunch with me? It can be our first date, if you want.”

“I’d love to! And you can show me around Gotham a bit. I’m coming here for college, but I haven’t really seen the city yet. It’d be nice to explore it with someone who knows where things are.”

“Are you free for the rest of the day? ‘Cause I wouldn’t mind showing you around, if you want.”

Danny smiles, radiant. “I am. I’m in your hands for the rest of the day.”

“Cool,” Duke says, trying not to think too much on that wording. It’s very suggestive, very flirtatious, and he’s looking forward to getting to know Danny more so he can start properly flirting. “Lemme just let my brother know to not wait up for me.”

He pulls out his phone and sends Dick a text that just reads: met my soulmate. going on a date now. i’ll see u back at the manor!

Then he puts his phone on silent and tucks it back into his pocket. He’ll tell Dick all about this later; for now, all his attention is on Danny. 

Soulmates get priority, even stressful ones that give him the largest soulmark he’s ever seen. 

And right now, he’s on a mission to find the best lunch spot to take his soulmate to for their first date. Everything else can come later; for now, he’s going to enjoy the time he gets to spend with Danny.

He hopes they’ve got a future together as bright as the stars in his soulmark. 

Despite it all, Duke is sure they’re going to be alright.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #dannys obv not going to be able to keep his identity as phantom hidden for long in gotham #esp since he wants to protect people and transforms to do that #and one of those times will be in front of duke to protect him from some goons trying to kidnap duke for his connections to the wayne famil #duke ends up using his powers as well leading to an identity reveal on both ends #and then the dots connect and duke yells THIS IS WHY U KEEP DYING and danny has to sheepishly apologize for how large dukes soulmark is #he does kiss all the new stars that show up on dukes skin tho so hes forgiven very quickly #(not that duke was ever mad. he's just worried) #thanks for the prompt!!

[bunny-yan]

I love reading all your works and although I miss giant man heavily- THIS DUKE GUY IS SERIOUSLY MAKING ME QUESTION MY SANITY 0_0!! I just really want to know more about this story, it sounds so interesting and I can't deny I want the reader to either escape this situation entirely or find a way to survive in these awful conditions ;-; I need to know what's the king's deal with his brother and I do hope that when reader gets out of their confinement they can go back to being distant and aloof to their abusers (I mean, in that same air of "I'm technically not doing anything wrong to our agreement, so you can't be mad at me for just doing my "job""), they can do what they're told (unwillingly) but Duke better not expect some lovey dovey treatment anymore-

Being the masochist I am I would even go as far as to say that reader would barely acknowledge the duke's presence after this betrayal, but the second the King is said to be coming inside their home for a "friendly family visit", reader actually express an immense amount of fear and stress- It's the only time they're able to express genuine emotions without faking politeness and serenity for their sake of their "dear" husband.

SORRY I'M JUST CRYING AND VOMITING AND BARKING, DROOLING, GOING ABSOLUTE BONKERS-

i think it would be interesting to write a story where the darling is absolutely horrified whenever the King plan to visit and the duke is distressed between making you stay and subjecting you to his brother's attention or allowing you to leave, knowing that he'd have to go to his in-law's house to drag you back. but his relationship with his brother is what i want to dive in headfirst

TW: mentions non-con, pretty tame overall, general angst

—

He was intimately familiar with his brother’s things. 

Things he couldn’t touch. Things he couldn’t imagine would ever become his own because he was the second son and second sons had to pave their own path since they weren’t meant to take over and couldn’t be given away as easily as daughters. 

His brother was used to receiving everything he could never have. 

His parent’s love and affection, their time, the teacher’s unimpaired praise, the latest toys when they were younger, the best clothes growing up, and he even had his pick of the most beautiful women from all of nobility. 

When his accomplished brother eventually succeeded in something no other ducal household had done, rising to become the monarch of the kingdom, the position he could only dream of having was given to him as a consolation prize. There was no pride in having attained the duke’s title. It was simply another of his brother’s hand me downs that had been sapped of all gratification and sentimentality. There was nothing he’d experienced that his brother hadn’t already conquered. 

Until he met you. 

Unimpressive you. 

Hailing from one of the diminished baron families that only had a title to separate them from everyday commoners, his brother, his king thought it prudent to choose a partner that would keep his brother humble considering his newfound status. 

There really was no point in resisting. No one piqued his interest enough to fight for and he wasn’t stupid enough to imagine a life with someone that could ever gain him recognition significant enough to stand by his brother’s side. 

Getting engaged without his say in the matter was simply a reminder of where he stood, a reminder that wasn’t needed considering his apathetic stance on the direction his life went. But after meeting you, for the first time he’d actually been grateful to his brother. 

Timid reluctance on your first meeting quickly changed to hopeful curiosity after a surprisingly passionate wedding night. You began to seek him out, interested in getting to know your husband. Interested in getting to know him. 

Not the second son. 

Not the King’s younger brother.

It was hard to wrap his head around at first, but the more he received this attention that he’d never gotten the chance to receive before, the more he’d crave it. Irritation quickly turned into easy intrigue when you would visit him simply to ask how his day was going. How he felt. If he was interested in discussing the duchy’s current issues. If he wanted to vent about anything and everything. So great was your interest in his worries. It caught him off guard for someone to be so concerned about his wellbeing. 

It was unfamiliar. 

He wasn’t used to the bleeding concern that would fill your eyes whenever he was injured during training and though it happened rarely, a part of him felt a sense of urgency, wanting to behave a little more reckless just to see that look in your eyes. To feel your soft comfort and care. 

 Even more surprising was the way he could completely let his guard down around you. 

Taking off the constant edge, he often found himself lying in your lap, arms encircling your waist as you caressed his hair or allowed a thumb to brush against his cheek when you weren’t carelessly messing with his ears or tracing the shape of his face with your fingers. It was an intimacy he could've never hoped to imagine. To dream about and yet he did. He’d often drift off in moments like these, waking when you’d shake his shoulder to rouse him from his dreary state and if you’d managed to fall asleep as well he was overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t describe at the sight of your peaceful face, sleeping beside him. 

It was easy to fall in such a tranquil rhythm, living while being needed. Wanted by someone who had no obligation to be with you. He remembered just before your engagement was finalized, his brother offered him the opportunity to divorce if the relationship didn’t last. It would’ve been a huge blow to his pride, but he wouldn’t be stuck with someone he couldn’t stand to be around. He tried to treat you indifferently, refusing to allow you to become a stain on his perfect record, but you blew through his defenses so easily. It could’ve been your easygoing personality or the fact that his walls would’ve crumbled at a touch, had someone cared enough to destroy them and now that you had crossed to the other side he didn’t want to return to that emotionally destitute solitude, knowing what genuine companionship felt like. 

You’d changed him. 

From a man alone, seemingly content in his sole authority, to one that smiled on occasion with eyes that warmed to the things you said, grateful to have someone treat the rare laughter that’d erupt from his lips as a sacred treasure. 

You changed him… And the King noticed too. 

The Duke shouldn’t have been surprised. It never took his brother long to pick up on things like this. He was partly to blame for making it so obvious that he wanted to return to his manor, to return to you. And anything that interested the King’s younger brother was sure to pique the King’s interest. 

He felt at odds when the King raised the proposition. 

On one hand, he hated the idea. The thought of allowing him to touch you in the same manner that he had was repulsive. It aroused every rebellious instinct the Duke possessed which was surprising considering he never once thought to deny his brother anything. It wasn’t the second son’s place to deny the eldest what he wanted. He’d been reminded of that time and time again regardless of what it was. Even the gifts he’d received for his birthday, his favorite model cars that his older brother had no interest in would be snatched away if he spared them even a glance. The young Duke, scolded if he protested. 

On the other, he didn’t want to appear as a greedy child who couldn’t share. His brother often showed an interest in the things that he liked, but if he pretended they didn’t really matter, that interest would wane to the point of nonexistence. So he’d play nice and share. No matter what his brother did, he was sure you wouldn’t develop an interest in him. You wouldn’t stroke his hair like you did his or whisper sweet nothings in his brother’s ear. These things were parts of you that were reserved for him and knowing this only gave him a sense of pride that grew when he noticed the signs of irritation on his brother’s face. For once, he relished in the fact that he had something that his brother never would. 

He’d forgotten how much his brother didn’t like to lose.

The Duke sensed that things had changed after his brother’s visit. 

You’d looked at him with sad, eerie eyes, mouth opening to say something you couldn’t quite put into words. Something you dared not to voice. 

But you didn’t have to explain. He knew everything. 

Petting you, he held you tight before going to handle his business as usual. Except you usually interrupted his work to bring him a snack or force him into a conversation over tea. Neither of which happened that day. Or the next. Or the day after that. 

Concerned, he asked if you were okay and to his surprise you began to cry. You tried to explain to him what happened, but he shook his head, confused as to why you were bringing it up. You’d done your part and the King was sure to lose interest now that his curiosity had been satisfied. 

The Duke didn’t understand the look of betrayal in your eyes. 

He didn’t understand why you no longer invited him on trips to walk around the garden that he’d filled with flowers that reminded him of you. A section with his and your birth flowers tangled together where the two of you would linger felt distant. It felt strange being there by himself as he traveled in search of you, wondering why it was so hard to catch a glimpse of you these days. 

You had dinner in your room, not the one the two of you shared. The bedroom, that you’d all but lived in since your wedding, felt empty and unused whenever he set foot in there now. 

You went out, sometimes earlier than he woke up and you didn’t come back until the sky was dark and the only sound that greeted him in the pounding silence were cicadas and the sound of a pen attempting to scratch away the dread, the worry that built after not seeing you, the concern that this wasn’t something that would simply go away. 

You couldn’t look at him, let alone touch him when he did manage to track you down and he couldn’t bear that disgustingly familiar sting he felt whenever you’d move away from his outstretched hand, avoiding the touch he’d attempted to share. Balling his fist, he’d pull away and attempt to convince himself that you needed space. It was normal to have hiccups in a relationship and space was something, along with time, that helped. 

But with every passing day, every moment, the distance between the two of you seemed to get larger. Any attempt he made to bridge the gap only seemed to push you farther away and he hated the smug look on his brother’s face as he poked and prodded his brother on how married life was going. 

As if he’d known this would happen. 

Finally having enough of this, he asked you. What was wrong? Why had you changed? How could he get you back to how you were before, is the question he didn’t get a chance to ask because, to his surprise, you’d gotten angry. 

You’d never been angry with him. Frustrated with his nonchalant behavior or confused with his hard to read moods, always. But never angry. 

At least not like this. 

You looked at him as if you were searching for something and something surged in his lungs when you drew away, unable to find whatever it is you were looking for. It felt like he had failed, recognizing those eyes that plagued him his entire childhood, and he couldn’t even be certain of what. 

He couldn’t understand why you were claiming that you were leaving him! 

You’d become an irreplaceable existence in his life and yet you were so ready to rip that away from him. To leave, abandon him to the crushing loneliness he didn’t realize he endured before. Now that he’d gotten a taste of happiness, he was hesitant to let it go. 

More than hesitant. 

The thought of you being anywhere but by his side felt appalling to even imagine, an incomprehensible idea. 

He couldn’t let you go. Not if it meant returning to that time. But why is it that the words he’d been desperate to express, words that became harder and harder to say as soft pudgy hands became calloused and hard, were impossible to tell you?

Don’t leave me. 

“You have a duty to this duchy.”

I don’t want to be alone. 

“A responsibility to uphold.”

Please. 

“If you’re so willing to view what happened as a shameful act regardless of my permission, then maintain it as a personal defect and don’t let it interfere with your obligations.”

Don’t go. Don’t go. Don’t go. 

Hold me. Touch me like you did before. Look at me as if I’m the only one, the only one, the only one. 

He couldn’t bear to imagine you on the arm of another. To think of you looking at anyone else the way you did when you were happy, concerned, in love. 

He grabbed at his chest, begging for something, for anything to alleviate this torment, for someone to tell him what he’d done wrong. 

“So, how is married life?” 

His brother wore an easy grin, calmly laid back with a woman on his lap and a man at his side. 

Ever the pious ruler. 

He’d rather die than admit that things weren’t going well. The Duke couldn’t bear to see his brother’s smug grin. 

“You were so excited to show them off to me, I couldn’t help but be curious. But they’re rather boring aren’t they?”

The Duke stilled himself. 

“Even in bed they seemed content to just lie there and it was hard maintaining an ere-”

“Please excuse me, Your highness. I have matters to attend to at home.”

He got up and began to walk out, not having to turn around to see the shit-eating grin on his brother’s face. The look of superiority as if he’d always be below him. 

“Oh, baby brother. When will you ever learn?”

Those words stayed with him. Even as he pulled out the key to unlock the door to your shared bedroom. It was relieving not having to search the entire manor to find you, but you had become quiet. Despondent to his words or touch. Even now as you sat on the bed, you didn’t move when he sat next to you. You didn’t spare a glance in his direction when he placed a hand on the small of your back and you said nothing when he asked you to speak to him. 

He should’ve known. 

In their younger days, his brother couldn’t bear to see him have anything that he hadn’t already played with. 

How could he forget that his brother only lost interest in those model cars that he’d been so proud of, that he shined everyday, that he treated more preciously than himself, after he’d pulled the wheels off of them?

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yandere duke

[sucroseswife]

Seriously, don’t break the law

Wriothesley x gn! Reader [part 1]

Wriothesley with a reader who keeps breaking the law on accident, continuously getting multiple small sentences. Despite being a relatively good citizen, your run ins with Furina’s more obscure laws repeatedly lands you in the Fortress.

It started off small. Wriothesley didn’t pay much attention to your first arrival, as he receives many criminals every day. You were in for the small offense of naming your dog “furina”, thinking it would be cute.

He got a good laugh out of reading your trial record though. You had no attorney and no defense other than demanding why such a stupid rule was even in place (“it’s not even offensive!” You had cried to the court to no avail)

Poor Neuvillette said nothing, sentencing you to 2 nights at the fortress of meropide with a sigh

(He had found you later, offering a small apology and suggesting you read up on Fontaine’s… stranger laws to avoid such accidents again.)

During your two night stay, you only met the duke once—

You peaked your head into the infirmary, subtly trying to check if this was the right room. The cut on your hand throbbed with pain but you ignored it the best you could. Those machines were more dangerous than you thought. Inside were two figures, one significantly shorter than the other.

…was that a kid? You honestly couldn’t tell, but she looked no older than 11. Perhaps she was the child of that much taller figure who was- quite good looking, actually-

“Gonna stand there all day?” The good looking man asked, raising an eyebrow. Fuck.

“Sorry!” You said, rushing in. “Are you, uh… the nurse?”

Before he could respond, your attention was drawn to the smaller figure who swiftly took your hand, an expression of concern on her face.

“I am the head nurse, Sigewine. Please have a seat and I’ll start treatment right away!”

You couldn’t help but swoon over how cute the little melusine was, her professionalism contrasting her appearance. As she ran away to fetch some gauze, your eyes trailed back to mr. Tall Hot Man. He was observing you silently. When you met his gaze, he smiled in a wolfish manner.

“You’re y/n, I take it?”

You nodded. “And you are…?”

“Wrioth-” “He’s the Duke of the fortress of meropide, Wriothesley!” Sigewine butted in, beginning to clean your wounds. You paled. Had you really been thinking about your warden like a piece of meat? …maybe you were a criminal after all.

Wriothesley looked mildly annoyed at being outed as the Duke, but quickly let it go. His smile returned.

“I’ve read your file… seems you’re only with us for another day. We don’t usually see such short sentences around here.”

“Oh, yes… well I hardly committed a crime at all!” you said, anger and indignation returning to you once more.

“Hm…” he said, pretending to consider. “breaking the law is breaking the law, I’m afraid.” Wriothesley took great satisfaction n the way you spluttered, rushing to defend yourself.

“No really, what kind of laws are these?! Even the Iudex couldn’t explain— and the legal codex he gave me… ‘ketchup shall only be used as a condiment and not consumed by itself’? Are you serious?”

Wriothesley wanted to laugh at the image of the overworked Chief Justice having to enforce Furina’s questionable laws, but held back. Sigewine had finished her work, patting your hand gently.

“Y/n, please use this medicine to clean your wound twice a day. And don’t forget to change your bandages.”

You nodded. “Thank you, miss Sigewine. Am I all set then?”

She nodded happily. “Yep! Stay safe please!”

You smiled at Wriothesley, slightly sheepish after your outburst. “Sorry, please don’t extend my sentence for yelling.”

He didn’t look like he was going to extend anything, though. His expression was one of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. Before you could leave, he gently took your injured hand in his, inspecting the cleaned and covered wound. He made a small noise of disapproval before speaking.

“If you ever end up back here— which I hope will not happen… there’s no need for you to work at the production zone. Just find me and I’ll figure something out.”

You blushed slightly before nodding. “Alright”

Was that normal? Didn’t all prisoners have to work?

Well, it didn’t matter. Not like you were planning to get arrested again. You said your goodbyes to the very beautiful and generous duke before leaving the infirmary.

Sigewine immediately knew something was up. The girl is an expert in reading human emotions

From the moment you had stepped in, your eyes were practically glued to Wriothesley, and his glued to you

Not to mention how the duke’s demeanor had softened considerably as he continued talking to you… and his suggestion at the end?! She had never seen him offer anything like that before.

Yes, there was no doubt in Sigewine’s mind that his grace was more into you than he was letting on

It’s such a shame you would be released the next day, never to come back to the fortress again!

…or so she thought

Unfortunately for you, your bad luck with Fontaine’s law had only just begun.

Notes: I want him sooo bad omg. Ignore the fact that neuv would probably never sentence someone to meropide for a crime this small it’s for the plot ok

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #fluff #comedy #crack

[walpu]

Hi, it’s me again!! >_<

When I tell you I gobbled that headcannon post up, I went down on two knees and howled /hj

Anyways, do you think you can do some headcannons on Aventurine with Bodyguard! Reader if you have the time? But this time, with a twist :3

See, reader does care for Aven, you truly do, but before that, you were tasked by Everflame mansion and by Duke inferno himself to kill Aventurine. But you can’t bring yourself to, no, not when you’ve fallen head over heels for him.

When reader does become Aven’s bodyguard, you maintain that serious, no nonsense demeanor, but if he looks closely enough, he’ll see the lovestruck puppy hiding under the hardened shell that they’ve put on.

But the guilt catches up. One day, at least a few months after reader’s betrayal to Duke Inferno, you catch sight of an assassin sent to finish the job they couldn’t do. And so, the secret is finally revealed.

Personally, I think Aventurine would be betrayed, like very, how could he not be? He’s always kept people at an arm’s length away, and when he finally lets you in his walls, and starts falling for thier charm, this secret of yours comes out. He fires you almost immediately, but the way he stares after you with misty eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

The next months were absolute hell. Reader found a new job as a barista, and is quite enjoying the quaint and simply life it provides, even if you do miss Aventuirne. He’s probably still seething at you, right?.

Wrong. Because you’ve gone MIA, Aventurine been scouring all over the place, trying so hard to find you. He’s loosing sleep, forgetting to eat, all things that you would chide him about. Aeons, he misses you so much.

And when he does find you, he’s overjoyed, and when the two finally reunite, the first thing you do is to apologize deceiving him. But he forgave your silly ass a long time ago, why else would he have spent the last months trying to find you?

Long story short, it’s a happy ending, Aventurine couldn’t be more grateful he has you to be his bodyguard, his closest confidant, and most importantly, his lover <33

I’m so sorry if I went on a ramble, but this idea’s been plaguing me so bad I literally can’t focus on anything else 😭😭

I'VE BEEN LOOKING FORWAR TO WRITIG FOR THIS REQUEST SINCE THE MOMENT I SAW IT I ADORE YOUR BODYGUARD!READER x AVEN SERIES btw thank you for sharing the c.ai bot

I feel like the only thing I do with each post is apologize for taking so long but right now I like from work trip to work trip so I'm actually really really sorry this madness should end soon 😭😭😭😭 Hope you'll enjoy this post, it was my goal to finish it before version 2.1

bodyguard/assassin!reader x Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes- gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, pining, no beta

It was not a fast prosses for the both of to form a genuine connection. Moreover, you know goddamn well you shouldn't get attached to him.

And at first it seems easy, like yeah another rich playboy, no big deal, you've delt with people like him before, right? Right??????????????

Yeah until suddenly he's not just a rich playboy.

The more you notice how deeply lonely and unhappy he is, the more your heart softens towards him. And the more your heart softens, the more he relaxes around you, seeing behind your cold exterior.

He's not used to people caring about him. And yes, of course he knows it's your job but still, for a man who never had a real friend before, he surely can appreciate having someone who not only won't leave him but also will listen to him and look after him.

And the part about you being paid to do it? Oh well. It's the same guy who offers you to use him as you wish and who's greeting line is "I can play a role of a friend :)"

Mf is FRIENDLESS, LONELY and PATHETIC /affectionally

He'll take what he can get okay.

But goddamn. Don't think he doesn't notice how you started going out of your ways to take care of him. How you make him eat, tend to his small injuries ("my, my, you're my bodyguard, not a doctor. perhaps someone wants a raise, hm?~"), how you drag him out of casino or his office when it's too late.

It drives him crazy. It's not beneficial for you, right? The w h y.

He won't ask. Instead he will watch and slowly fold.

You are probably suffering tho lol. You should just kill him already, you've had so many opportunities to end him. Instead you spoon feed him soup because he claims he has a hangover after a night in the casino. And this little brat looks so smug about it too!!!!

Sometimes he feels like it's too good to be true: you being here, taking care of him, looking after him. The line between professional relationship, friendship and... something more is way too blurry already, and he knows it's dangerous but it just feels so good. Too good.

Duke inferno gets tired eventually. He sends someone to remind you of your mission. To remind you who you really work for.

Well, the duke receives a warning of his own. The dead body of his little messenger.

You know, of course, that the Everflame mansion thugs are not easily intimidated. They will be back. So you better warn Aventurine and tell him everything.

You can't keep lying to him, can you?

Well. It's surprisingly not as easy as you thought. After all, even if they will send someone, you'll just protect Aven like you always do, right? He doesn't have to know. Not about your past, not about your original mission. He keeps his secrets too, so why can't you?

You know goddamn well why tho. You know and yet you still can't bring yourself to tell him the truth.

It goes on like that for several months and Aventurine notices that something is clearly off, something is bothering his darling protector. He tries to pry, to tease, to cling, to pester you. Something to make you open up. Or, at least, get distracted. He can't help but feel anxious. Why are you suddenly so reversed? Do you want to leave his side? Does he not pay you enough? Does he bother you too much? It eats him alive while he tries to mask it by pestering you even more. As if to test you. As if to make sure that it's not the case.

All the hell breaks loose one day when you discover that Duke inferno has sent another assassin to finish the job.

I you spare the details but yeah, your secret was unraveled. And it wasn't pretty at all.

You have never seen emotions so vivid on Aven's face. Part of you always wanted to see him more vulnerable, more open with you. But not like this. Not this look of utter betrayal.

He collects himself quick enough, hiding behind the mask of mock disappointment.

"Hm, well, I recall mentioning that treachery is just another tool of the trade. But it seems like our little deal is not paying off for me anymore" he says with a cold chuckle, shaking his head a little. "After all, you have very little to offer outside of your dog-like loyalty. But seems like this dog bit both hands that fed it".

You were expecting him to call for your arrest but instead he just fires you. It hurts nevertheless.

What hurts even more is that look he gives you when you part ways. It's like his pretty eyes are even more lifeless now.

At first he feels this overwhelming emptiness. It truly feels like the fate is mocking him. One time, just one time, he allowed himself to relax around someone. Just this one time, with this one person who took care of him, who listened to him, who looked out for him. And this person was supposed to kill him.

Then his stupid brain finds another way to torture him. He keeps thinking about the way you have always protected him, the way you took the hit even during the last attack, when Duke Inferno's new assassin tried to get to him. You were ready to leave your past life behind to stay by his side, weren't you?

As soon as he realizes it he goes frantic. Of course he tries to find you asap but of course someone as competent as you would be able to disappear without a trace in no time. You were an assassin, after all. A skilled one too, since he never even suspected you.

This connection the two of you had, this realization that you really cared enough to betray your client, all of this makes him realize that he needs you so, so much. He needs to feel this care again, he need to look at you again, to know that you're here by his side.

He misses you so much. Your nagging, your reassurance, your touch. He's like an addict who felt what it feels like to love and beloved in return for the first time and now he can't live without it.

He doesn't eat or sleep properly, his head plagued by the thoughts about you. What if you forgot all about him? What if you're wounded? Where are you even? His fingers itch to trace your face and your scars.

He thinks about how you would scold him for not taking proper care of himself and it makes him miss you even more.

Aven finds you after a few months. It was honestly a coincidence, one of his subordinates saw you in the coffee shop you were working at.

He though that finding you will calm him down but seeing you from afar, looking somewhat peaceful and cozy, having a regular job... it's too much. And what if you really don't need him anymore? Maybe you never did? After all, he's painfully aware that he probably needs you much more than you need him.

And yet, he decides to take this risk. He's a gambler, after all.

"Somehow I'm not surprised you're good even at that. How come you have never made me coffee before, hm?"

You literally freeze on the spot after hearing this familiar voice next to you.

When you finally get to talk, you can see he's really trying to look calm and collected but how can he? His hands are shaky and his voice cracks. It breaks your heart.

He doesn't even let you finish your apology, pressing a finger to your lips.

"Hush, darling. All is forgiven. In fact, I even have an interesting proposal. I'm can be a generous man after all".

He can't fool you. Not with this shaky soft voice. And he knows it as well.

Please hug that fool and kiss him. Swear that you won't ever leave him again. Swear that you want to be by his side. As his bodyguard, as his friend, as something more. So much more. That's all he really need to feel like he's at home.

#if the ending feel abrupt i'm sorry tumblr said i'm writing too much #i had to cut it short #thank you so much for this request!!! #and fuск this app for making me cut my words it's not my fault i'm graphomaniac #hsr #honkai star rail #walp's writing #aventurine #hsr aventurine #reader insert #aventurine x reader

[lucid-loves]

First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 4

Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 4.4k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, virgin reader, first kiss

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.

Chapter Synopsis: It’s time to head to the safehouse that Ghost set up for the both of you. Before you leave though, Ghost introduces you to some new experiences in your own country. While he takes care of you, you find yourself falling for him even more to the point where you want to test curiosity of yours. 

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5

“Has the duke spilled his guts yet?” Ghost asked Soap, making the last minute arrangements for the safehouse as quick as he could. While he would’ve liked to have been the one to interrogate the bastard in his own special way, he didn’t want to leave you alone for too long. Luckily, Soap arrived quickly to take care of the interrogation for him. He was glad that his sergeant didn’t mind talking with his fists too. 

“Bits and pieces. Not much though. At least, nothing that will really bolster our investigation. He seems like he genuinely doesn’t know much about the organization he decided to trust. They just made him safety and financial promises which he took without question.” Soap revealed, wiping stray specks of blood on his arms with a warm, moist cloth provided by a maid.

Ghost hummed in annoyance. An idiot like the duke, who was so willing to sell out your life along with your country, wasn’t worth breathing the same air as you. He would kill him if he could. It would be doing the world a favor. “What about the servant?”

Soap shrugged and shook his head. “Still working on that one, Lt. He’s been asleep.”

“Asleep?” Ghost repeated, hardly believing what his sergeant just told him.

“According to the guards, when the man was taken in for custody, he just dropped dead asleep. Coma-level sleep. We can’t get him to wake up. I’ve contacted the team about it and Kate is going to send an expert to test for drugs. We think that he might’ve taken something before being taken into custody. Capsule in the teeth kind of shit.” Soap explained carefully, making sure he covered everything that he needed to cover.

“What about guest statements? Anything useful?” Ghost continues, his patience wearing thin. He needed a win. They all did. This was no longer just a concerned parental request. A whole country was truly at stake of being taken over by terrorists. 

Once again, Soap shook his head. “Sorry, Lt. Everything is on record so you’re free to read through everything just in case I missed something, but the only thing we can do is continue our investigation and wait for the servant to wake up.”

Little did they know that you were just outside the doors, listening to their whole conversation. You were finished packing what you thought you needed with the help from your maid staff. So, you ended up leaving the room in search of Ghost to let him know that you were ready to go. 

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You only meant to wait patiently for their conversation to wrap up. But you couldn’t unhear what was being discussed. It scared you that they haven’t been able to uncover much regarding these terrorists that were after your country and life. It was even scarier to know that there wasn’t much you could do except trust in Ghost and his team. 

Finally, you mustered up your courage and gave the door a light knock before coming in. “Pardon me. I’m all set to go to the safehouse.”

Soap’s expression lit up at the sight of you, his lighthearted, playful side coming through immediately. You were fascinated with how different he appeared compared to Ghost. A little shorter, stylish faux mohawk, and a smile that brought life to the prim and proper room. A part of you was expecting Ghost’s teammate to be more like him. Was the 141 actually quite diverse? What was the rest of his team like?

“Well hello, Princess Y/n! I’m Sergeant Mactavish, but people call me Soap. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you after all the things Ghost has said about you.” He greeted you warmly, holding out his hand for a casual handshake. Without thinking, you took it, your own eyes brightening up along with your cheeks.

“A pleasure to meet you as well, Sergeant Mactavish. Ghost talks about me?” You couldn’t help but clarify, your eyes meeting Ghost’s who just averted his gaze. God damn it, Soap!

“He-”

“That’s enough, Sergeant! Get back to work.” Ghost shut him down swiftly, the word of the lieutenant being final. It didn’t hurt Soap though. In fact, he was used to Ghost reacting this way which he thought was hilarious. 

With a chuckle, Soap took his leave out of the room. “Aw well, maybe next time! See you later, Princess.” 

As he walked out, you smiled, feeling uplifted by the interaction. Meeting Soap was like meeting an old friend. You hoped that you would be able to meet him again, especially to hear the kinds of things Ghost said about you. For now, you redirected your attention back to Ghost who looked more tired than usual.

“Are you feeling alright, Lieutenant Ghost? You look like you need some rest.” You gently pointed out, your brows furrowing in concern. Ghost’s soul warmed up like a fireplace being started at your consideration.

“I’ll be alright. No need to worry about me. You said that you were all ready to go?” He switched topics quickly, not wanting you to worry too much about him. He would catch up on rest later. The most important thing was getting you to a safer place. That would be his safe space to rest too.

You gave a sheepish smile as he redirected the attention onto you. “Indeed. I would prefer to leave sooner rather than later. I hope that me being ready does not rush you.”

He wanted to shower you with praise over you being such a good girl. Ghost was incredibly grateful that you weren’t fussy whatsoever. “No, that’s perfect. We should be getting out of here now.”

An armored car was waiting right outside the palace to take you to the safehouse, already loaded up with just a few suitcases. You weren’t sure how long you were going to be at the safehouse, but you only packed necessities. No formal wear, no jewelry. Nothing that would take up too much space. As you stood on the palace steps, you took a deep breath of fresh air. Birds were chirping excitedly, a slight breeze cut through the would-be heat. It was a perfect day to finally leave your marble prison. Not without protests from your parents, though.

“Are you absolutely sure that this is necessary? I mean, how else will we know that the princess is safe if she is so far away?” Your father nervously blurted, his eyes shifting from Ghost to you to the car in an anxious cycle. 

Your mother wasn’t too happy either, though for different reasons that almost had Ghost snap. “How will we know that she is keeping up with her studies?!”

Before Ghost could combat their nerves, you huffed and faced your parents for the first time in your life. This new courage was found in knowing that there was really nothing your parents could do to stop this from happening. “Mother, father, I will be perfectly safe. I will continue to study as usual. However, this will also be a great chance for me to learn what the world is really like outside of the palace. We won’t do anything unsafe, so please, just let me learn what I need to learn.”

For a moment, there was pure silence between everyone. No one was expecting you to stand up for yourself, even if it was about time that you did. Then, your father places his hands on your shoulders, his gaze softening. “Y/n, when did you become such a wonderful young woman? It was only yesterday that I was holding you in my arms for the first time.”

Your eyes widened for a second, not expecting your father to become so affectionate all of a sudden. He was certainly more affectionate than your mother, though, you couldn’t remember the last time your father told you that he loved you. You blinked back tears he pulled you in for a sweet hug as if you were leaving forever.

As Ghost watched, he felt his anger begin to melt. As much as he hated the decisions your parents made regarding your life, at least he knew that it came from a place of love. At least for the case of your father. Your mother, on the other hand, still had a sour look on her face. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut in a tight line.

“Lieutenant, keep my daughter safe.” The king ordered to which Ghost gave a firm nod to. He would rather lose his life than have you in danger again. 

After you pulled away and said your final goodbyes, you got into the armored car. Ghost got into the driver’s seat and started it up, eager to help you see the world outside of the palace walls. As you looked out the window, seeing your parents get smaller and smaller with the distance, you felt a surge of excitement run through you. 

Ghost noticed how your demeanor changed. Now without the pressures of royal conformity, you were free to be yourself. More courageous. It seemed like you had some bark and bite in you as well after all. He wanted to know you even more. “You wanna choose the music for the ride?”

You perked up at his offer, eagerly nodding your head as he handed you his phone that was already connected to the car’s bluetooth system. After perusing some options, you settled on a playlist that surprised Ghost. Even under the mask, you could tell that he was questioning your choice. “I want to hear all kinds of music. I want to hear every single song that was banned for me.”

He gave a chuckle for the first time that you’ve been together. The sound had your heart skip a beat. You didn’t even know that he was capable of laughing with how serious he looked all the time. “Very well. I’ll make sure you get your chance to experience anything you want that you normally wouldn’t.”

You bit your lip, trying to contain the utter joy you felt, completely forgetting that your life was in danger just for the moment. 

~

It was a long drive to the safehouse in the deep countryside. Your eyes were trained on the views through the window like it was television. You never knew how pretty your country looked. The architecture was classic with plenty of brick buildings and natural curvatures. There were plenty of sidewalks to cater to pedestrian travel rather than cars. Ivy vines with flowers crawled on the side of buildings, the natural beauty of nature colliding with man-made structures. 

There were plenty of open-air markets as well. Produce stands, custom art pieces, coffee trucks. Everything was conveniently available, no matter if you were heading home from work or just taking a stroll. As you passed a farmer’s market, you noticed how busy it seemed with families. Kids running around, parents picking out ingredients, business owners offering samples to treat the good children. 

Ghost noticed how you looked out the window, longing to join the streets to really experience what life was like. He debated if it would be safe to allow a little time for you to explore. He wasn’t keen on the idea of so many people around you. However, if he stuck close to you, then it should be fine, right? Besides, how could he deny the pretty little look you gave as you yearned for a little adventure. 

Before you knew it, Ghost found somewhere to park and got out of the car. Then, he opened your door and held his hand out for you to take. “Just for a little while, okay? Stick close to me.”

The smile you gave was so big and bright that it almost hurt your cheeks. You couldn’t help it, though. Ghost was granting you one of your biggest wishes. You took his hand and stepped out of the car, taking in the sounds of the city. People conversing, bike bells ringing, dogs barking. It was unlike anything you have ever heard. 

Obeying his orders, you did stick close to Ghost, your arm naturally looping around his without much thought. This was the usual hold for an escort that you have performed many times. It was a natural instinct as Ghost led the way to the farmer’s market. That wasn’t to say that you didn’t notice how strong his muscles felt underneath his shirt. You definitely felt how hard your heart pounded as he held you just as securely to his side.

When he paused to swap out his balaclava for the skeleton face mask that he wore at the party, you nearly tripped over yourself. In the natural light of the sun, his blonde hair seemed brighter like sunshine itself. His eyes seemed more open as well. Warmer. You blushed and stared down at the sidewalk for a moment, trying to catch your breath that he ended up stealing from you.

“Everything alright? Having second thoughts?” He wondered, compassion present in his voice as you all of a sudden seemed shy. 

With a shake of your head and a smile, you reassured him. “I’m fine. Just eager is all.”

With that, he led you into the market that was flooding with people. Ghost kept a careful eye out on everyone that passed by. His arm also tightened just a little more firmly to ensure that you didn’t get separated from him. As you walked, your eyes scanned over all of the products up for sale. Baked goods, ripe fruit, crocheted clothes, beautiful art. Before you knew it, you were dragging Ghost from stall to stall to ensure that you could see everything that the market had to offer.

Ghost found it amusing. He noticed the way your eyes lit up when you tasted a free sample of fresh cheese or juicy apple slices. He noticed the way the corners of your mouth lifted into a grin as you admired the craftsmanship of art. He also noticed when your eyes lingered on a particular homemade hair claw clip that was decorated with pearls, thin gold chains, and delicate flowers. 

“You want it.” He pointed out as more of a statement rather than a question. Your cheeks flushed pink, feeling a little embarrassed by your obvious infatuation. The truth was that most of your clothes and jewelry were chosen for you. You were allowed to mix-and-match with what you were given, but you have never really chosen out anything yourself. 

“I’m just impressed with the details. It is quite a beautiful hair clip.” You danced around the topic, wanting to seem more humble. However, Ghost didn’t really buy it. With a swift motion, he fished out his wallet from his pocket and took out some bills. 

Your mouth opened in shock. “Lieutenant, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. Consider it a souvenir for your first real outing.” Ghost dismissed you with ease, handing over the money to the seller. He picked up the hair clip and handed it to you to try on, happy to indulge in your wants.

For a moment, you separated your arm from Ghost to put your hair up, loose tendrils naturally falling to frame your face. You let them be as the rest of your hair was fashioned up with the clip. The seller handed you a small mirror to see your reflection. You almost cried when you saw yourself. You never imagined that your bodyguard would buy you such a wonderful gift. “Thank you, Lieutenant Ghost.”

Ghost found his heart skipping a beat as he took in your new appearance. The clip matched your princess personality perfectly. The delicate chains that dangled down pearl and flower beads guided his eyes to the smooth nape of your neck. 

The thought that he wanted to kiss that nape crossed his mind. 

Clearing his throat, he took your arm again. “It suits you. Wouldn’t look better on anybody else.”

It was hard not to fall even deeper for him when he complimented you like that. Your heart pounded as you walked beside him again, your steps feeling lighter than air. Nothing else at the market caught your eye as his compliment kept echoing in your head, turning your feelings into goo. 

As the market neared closing time, the amount of people began to dwindle down. Ghost felt his shoulders fall, feeling more at ease with less people around. Circling back around, he led you back to the produce stalls, wondering what ingredients he should pick up for the safehouse. 

The safehouse would be stocked with food, but not with a lot of fresh ingredients. He wanted to continue making this a good day for you with a homemade dinner rather than whatever TV dinners were waiting in the freezer. He wasn’t a chef by any means, having spent most of his life eating MREs and military canteen food. At the very least, he could make you something simple yet good. 

Remembering the cheese you seemed to enjoy as a sample and how it was tomato season, Ghost picked out all the necessary ingredients to make homemade tomato soup and grilled cheeses for tonight. You watched him curiously as he picked everything out before something in the distance caught your attention. 

“What kind of bread do you like?” He asked you, holding two different loaves of bread in his hands while he considered the options. When he looked to you for an answer though, he could tell that your gaze was trained far into the distance. He turned to look around, trying to find what you were staring at. 

In the distance was a person with a dark hoodie and a bandana covering their face. Bright paint brought color to their sleeves and jeans. The figure was walking away, but it was obvious what they were just up to with what was close to him. 

“Shit.” Ghost cursed as he pulled out his phone with Captain Price on speed dial. 

The other line was picked up quickly. “Lieutenant?”

“Tagger going east on Clover Street. Black hoodie, blue jeans, red bandana, covered in paint.” He informed, his voice low as he kept an eye on the distant figure. He observed how they walked down the street, waiting for them to change directions if they were planning on it.

“Getting a hold of local cameras now. You’re with the princess?” Captain Price inquired, his hands moving fast to find this figure through the city cameras. Finally, he found the person that Ghost described.

“Affirmative.” 

“Sending Gaz to pursue. I recommend that you two get to the safehouse pronto. I didn’t think they would be out in broad daylight.” Price advised, already contacting Gaz to give him his new assignment. Once Gaz accepted the orders, the captain hung up. Ghost knew that his captain needed to focus on this immediately, so he wasn’t offended by the sudden hang-up.

He bought the groceries, now in a bit more of a rush. Securing your arm around his once more, he began to lead you back to the car. “Let’s go, Princess. It’s not safe here anymore.”

Your face fell as the day seemed to be ruined by another case of danger. However, there was something that was bothering you. You noticed the paint on the person’s clothes and a strike of color against one of the brick walls he was near. Curiosity was getting the better of you. 

“Wait!” You paused, your stance suddenly strong and pulling back from Ghost. 

His bold brows rose as you defied him for the first time. Surely you had a good reason to. “What is it? Something wrong?”

You all of a sudden grew a little shy as his intense eyes bored into you, waiting for your explanation. Despite how bashful you grew, you persisted. “I want to see the graffiti they were making. Can we? Please?

“Oh, Princess, it wasn’t a piece of art they were making.” Ghost said knowingly, flashes of the pictures he’d seen crossing his mind. Tags of revolution. War. 

“I still want to see. Please, Lieutenant?” You pleaded, trying to follow your instincts as closely as you could. 

With the way you looked at him, it was hard to say no. He wasn’t sure if you knew that there were tags around the whole city calling for your head. Probably not since your parents didn’t tell you the truth about your life being in serious danger. But. . . he supposed that you deserved to see them just this one time. This was your country after all. “As long as we’re quick. You have to stay close to me too. Got it?”

You eagerly nodded and latched onto his arm, letting him swiftly guide you to the spots of paint on brick in the distance. As you got closer, you could make out specific shapes and color switches. Getting even closer proved Ghost wrong.

This was art.

You stared in awe at the giant mural before you. A crow with a golden crown in its ebony beak. Feathers wrapped in fire and barbed wire. The crow was about to drop the crown into a pit of hell below it, filled with skulls, demons, hellfire, and sharp blades. Ghost was surprised as well. The pictures he saw depicted small tags here and there of the crows. Here, this was a full blown work of art. 

Your free hand drifted up to touch the now colorful bricks. The paint was still a little tacky, but nothing that would stain you. As you looked up, drinking in every detail, Ghost watched you. He was nervous about what you were going to say. 

What you did say startled him. “Crows are a symbol of transformations, prophecies, and death.”

“Your mother said the opposite, save for death.”

“For her, death is an inescapable darkness. Evil. In reality, crows can bring fortune during bad times. Death is good fortune since it is a new beginning. This message isn’t a threat. It’s hope.” You concluded, tracing the swooping beak with your fingers. The shadows and highlights made the crow look almost three-dimensional.

Ghost wasn’t sure how to respond. He normally had an answer for any situation, yet what you said stumped him. How could he respond to something so poetically profound? 

You did give him something new to look into though. He would find the time to talk to his team about it later. For now, he had to finally take you to the safe house. “Come on, we gotta get moving.”

~

The drive through the countryside was long and soothing. Ghost took control of the music once you began to doze off. Something light at a low volume was played so you could continue sleeping peacefully. You had a long day out. You probably burned a lot more energy than what you were used to as well.

Once the car hit the dirt road, you stirred awake. The stars were beginning to come out, having driven for hours. You were surrounded by endless fields of local wildflowers with only the occasional tree. While you did love the looks of the city, there was something to love about the countryside too. The land that felt infinite made you feel like you could do anything. You were eager to see what the land looked like during a beautiful sunrise. 

Soon, the car pulled up at a rustic cottage with a large shed beside it. Ghost stepped out of the car for a second to open it up, turning it into a garage that would just barely fit the vehicle. Once the car was parked, you were led into the house.

A thin layer of dust hung in the air along with the fresh scent of nearby wildflowers. The cottage contained the essentials as far as you could tell. A living room, a kitchen, two bathrooms, and two bedrooms. Generically decorated, yet cozy compared to the sterile fanciness of the palace. 

Ghost brought the luggage in, setting yours in the bedroom of your choosing. He gave you some time to unpack and settle in while he got started on dinner. 

As you placed some of your clothes in one of the empty dressers, the fact that you would be living with your bodyguard for who knew how long began to hit you. Your heart picked up speed along with your breath. Not that you expected anything to happen or develop between the two of you, a part of you still had a sense of hope that your relationship would grow stronger at the very least. 

Before heading back out towards the kitchen, you caught your reflection in a bedroom mirror. The hair clip was still fastened to your hair, giving you butterflies. It was still hard to believe that he had bought you a gift so easily like it costed him nothing. You could’ve sworn that he seemed a little stunned when it was in your hair too. In a good way. 

Ghost was a gentleman. He was just being kind. He wouldn’t do anything that could be considered unprofessional or unfriendly. 

Bodyguard protecting a princess. That’s all your relationship will ever be. Right?

-

Tag List: @angel-anna @ghostlythots @maiyatheprettiestprincess @cum-tea-and-towels @littleghostbride @meowzerzstuff @izziyuwh @literaturewh0r3things @bi-witch-bxtch @victoriareadsbooks

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfic #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x y/n #cod fanfic #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon riley cod

[zonigiri]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐄

pairing: wano!zoro x reader

summary: unfortunately, you have a crush on zoro and zoro is in love with someone else and so, cue: pining (or so you think)

wc: 3.3k

cw: fluff + reader smokes + potentially inaccurate wano arc details because I haven’t caught up with the manga but i had to get this out sorry!!

a/n: i had to get this out of my head and i haven’t written anything in a while and so reqs/ideas/feedback on asks are welcome!

Clinking glasses, boisterous laughter and sounds of revelry filled the air. The kingdom of Wano was celebrating the end of Kaido’s reign and of the ill-famed prophecy coming to fruition after two long decades. As always, your crew was in the centre of the limelight. Luffy was predictably surrounded by piles of empty plates on one side and plates loaded with food on the other. Ussopp and Chopper were merry-making, Robin, Nami and Franky were engaged in conversation with Yamato-kun and Tsuru-san, Brook was playing with some children and you couldn’t see Sanji anywhere. Probably escorting some damsel in distress somewhere, was your best bet. And in a corner of the room, surrounded by Kin’e’mon, Duke Dogstorm and Cat Viper was Zoro – all of them going through barrels of sake like running water. With the burden of Kaido off everyone’s shoulders, everyone felt lighter, freer. So why was there a heaviness in your heart?

You excused yourself from the people around you and you went outside the room to take a deep breath. Maybe looking at the stars would remind you again how insignificant your troubles were. You chastised yourself for feeling the way you did when there were people that had lost their loved ones in the war and in the years preceding it, and once again you wished that matters of the heart could be reigned over by logic. You’d carried a thing of sake with you and there were strains of faint music coming in from somewhere and so you took unladylike sips while staring up at the stars in the sky, willing all other thoughts out of your brain.

“Oi, what are you doing out here?,” a familiar gruff voice rang out behind you. Jolted out of your thoughts and nearly choking on the sake, your eyes widened as you turned around to find Zoro. However, before you could get a word in, he spoke again, and your chest felt heavy again.

“Shitty-cook was looking for you.” Oh. It was probably too much to have expected Zoro to notice your absence and come find out in the middle of a banquet with free-flowing sake. You should’ve known better.

As if right on cue, another familiar voice filled with half-hearted anger and pure annoyance called out from a distance. “Oi Marimo, where the hell have you been? Hiyori-chan’s been looking for you all night, how dare you keep a lady waiting?” Your heart lurched again hearing Hiyori’s name and as Zoro turned around to face Sanji, Sanji spotted you. His tone changed immediately as he called out to you this time, sweetly and with no trace of earlier frustration, “Hellooo YN-chan, didn’t see you there! Are you enjoying the party? Was mosshead over here, bothering you?” 

“Haaa?!”

You let out a little laugh and a wave, with a smile you hoped was convincing enough, the same time as Zoro let out an accusatory curse.

“Hey, Sanji! I’m alright thanks, I was looking for you actually. Can I have a cigarette?”

“Of course, anything for you!” Sanji trips over himself trying to get out his pack of cigarettes and insists on lighting it for you. Having completed it, he turns around to see Zoro still standing there, staring at the two of you. “You stupid Marimo, didn’t I tell you Hiyori-chan’s waiting for you? Don’t you have any manners? I can’t believe she would pick you over me. She’s the most beautiful woman in the whole country, why would she even want a brute like you?! Don’t keep her waiting, you ill-mannered animal!” Sanji all but kicks Zoro, as if sending him flying to Hiyori’s feet might make up for however long she’s been waiting. For a second it looks like Zoro and Sanji are going to butt heads for the nth time but Zoro simply twists his face into a scowl, decides against it and walks off, grumbling under his breath. You turn back to rest your elbows on the parapet as you watch the smoke billow away into the night sky.

“So, Zoro and Hiyori, huh?,” you say with a little laugh.

Sanji lets out a scoff, takes a drag as if to compose himself, and then speaks, “Can you believe it?”

You don’t answer him and the two of you finish your cigarettes in silence afterwards. You offer Sanji your remaining sake and he graciously accepts. The two of you walk back to the banquet hall and instinctively your eyes scan the room for Zoro – he is nowhere to be found. And then, cautiously and against your best interests, you scan the room for Hiyori – she is nowhere to be found either. You can feel the bile rising in your chest as you scan the room a third time, this time for signs of either of them, but nothing. Putting two plus two together, you walk into the room with a heavier heart than you’d left. Walking over to the banquet table, you grab two bottles of sake and go join the group nearest to you. Chopper was putting chopsticks up his nose and the entire group was in splits – it was easy to pretend you were having fun too.

Back on the ship, you try your best to give Zoro as wide a berth as possible and hope it goes unnoticed. In your defense, it’s nothing obvious – it’s not like you’re walking the other way when you see him. You didn’t really want to either. Your heart might have been hurting but even then, you couldn’t deny how good he looked doing push-ups on the deck of the Sunny. Well into his 500’s, brazenly shirtless, and sweat glistening like molten gold on his brown skin in the sunlight. Had you not been bothered about giving him some space, you likely would’ve been staring at him shamelessly and Robin would’ve passed a cheeky comment about flies going into your open mouth. With a heavy sigh, and a slightly heavier heart, you go back to the book you were reading.

Days pass like this, with you toeing a thin line doing your best to keep your distance while trying to not make it obvious to anyone. This was just a passing crush and from past experience you’d learned that the best, and probably only way, to deal with it was to bide your time and let it fade away on its own. You only wondered how long it would take this time, because there was a limit to the pangs of pain you could tolerate.

You were sitting in the crow’s nest, knees to your chest and cradling the book you were reading when a movement drew your attention to the door. Zoro walked in with weights and set them down on the floor next to you.

“Should I- do you need the room?” you asked getting ready to get up, hoping simultaneously he’d say yes and no to appease the two splits your heart was in.

“Stay,” he grunted under his breath and he turned around and began setting up his equipment.

Long ago the two of you had come to an agreement to tolerate, and allow, only each other in this little sacred space the two of you had managed to create for yourselves on the Sunny. You reading in silence while Zoro worked out nearby was a near-natural occurrence for the two of you and naturally it often led to small talk, casual conversation and eventually playful banter. You’d spent nights up here on watch, drinking from the secret alcohol stash that Zoro and you had hidden away underneath the floorboards. The more you thought about all the memories you have of the two of you in the room where you were, the more the awkwardness of the present moment was stifling, closing in your heart and squeezing it in desperation. It was too far gone now, there was no escape. If you left now, it would make it even more obvious so all you could hope for was that Zoro hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Although with the way you’d tried to leave earlier… Zoro was an idiot but unfortunately, the bastard could be observant when he wanted to. It was all you could do to stare into the book in your hands, boring your eyes into the words on the page and registering none of them.

Wordlessly you slid back into place, watching him curiously as he arranged the weights on the racks with his back to you. Thanks to your efforts, you had never been alone with him ever since you’d left Wano. You’d made it a point to always stay on the deck, with others in company and sight, to prevent yourself from the exact situation that you were in right now. You knew Zoro liked to train in the crow’s nest, but it was also your favourite place to read a book for similar reasons – it was quiet and far away from the chaos that the deck was almost always prone to.

Speaking of the devil, Zoro's voice cuts through the room, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Dunno, you’ve seemed a little out of it ever since we left Wano.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, we haven’t- you haven’t come up to the crow’s nest to read or anything,”

“Oh.” Your heart flutters a little at the fact that he noticed, but the rational part of your brain shuts it down. That’s what a friend does. He cares about you, just not the way you do about him. “I uh- I wanted to give you some space.”

It was Zoro’s turn to look confused. “Hah? Why?”

“I thought you might need some time to get over….” your voice dies down as the confusion in Zoro’s eyes increases. “Get over what?” The pure obliviousness almost makes you question yourself but for the sake of your sanity, you decide to press on. “Over Okiku-san?” you say softly. You see his eyes soften at the mention of her name.

“Oh. Yeah, I visited her grave with Kin’e’mon before we left.” You nodded understandingly. “If that’s what you’re worried about, I’m fine.”

“Do you miss her?”

“Miss her? I only knew her for a week.”

“Then… do you miss Hiyori-san?”

“Haaah?! How do you know about that? Did someone tell you? I bet it was Brook he has awful fucking timing. Just like that morning….” Zoro grumbled under his breath.

Your heart sinks a little as you recall he’s referring to the night that they slept together. You remember feeling devastated when Brook was telling you and Nami and you had to do everything in your power to act like it was scandalizing gossip and not like it felt like your heart was like a rock dropping rapidly into the sea. And it was happening again.

“No one told me, I just… guessed. I’m sorry,” you say softly, trying to stop tears from falling.

“What for?”

“It must suck to leave someone you love behind.” A pause and then you offered honestly, “I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Who did I leave behind?”

“Hiyori-san?”

You could see the gears in his brain turning as he tried to put the pieces together, “And who do I love?”

“Hiyori-san….?”

“Where the hell did you get that from?!”

“From you?!" Zoro continued to stare at you like you were spouting nonsense and so you added in your defense, "I thought she confessed to you on the night of the banquet!”

“She did,” but before you could say anything Zoro spoke again, "But I turned her down.”

“Oh. So it was Okiku-chan then?”

“Haaa?! Where are you getting any of this from?! You’ve been acting strangely ever since we left Wano and now you keep fuckin’ talking about me being with people I haven’t ever thought about that way. Do you think I’m like ero-cook over there, who falls in love with every single girl he meets? Is that really what you think of me?”

“No,” you whisper, tears threatening to spill any moment now. You’d never seen Zoro this annoyed, and never at you. Zoro turns around and starts putting his weights back, his back to you. “Forget it, I just wanted to see if you’re okay but I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” 

Your heart sank to your knees and all the arguments you'd been using to not confess to him suddenly fell away. All that was left was your need to explain to Zoro that you'd never meant to piss him off, only to try and know who he liked because you liked him. You spoke before you realized you were doing it, and before you knew it the words had already left your wobbly lips in a shaky whisper. 

“Zoro, I’m sorry. I like you.”

Hearing your trembling voice, Zoro turned around and walked over to stand a few steps away from you. You could feel his eyes on you and you’re sure he had questions, but you were also sure there were tears in your eyes; and so you were staring holes into the ground because the last thing you wanted now was for Zoro to see you cry. 

Zoro’s voice was softer when he spoke, “I like you too. Are you alright? You know you can talk to me if something’s bothering you, right?” He didn’t know what was going on and your sudden change in behaviour only confused him even further.

Incredulous, you looked up to face him, brimming tears now forgotten. You wondered if you should let it pass since your tortured confession was wildly misunderstood by the swordsman who really had moss for brains at times but now that you’d come out and said it, you figured you might as well get it over and done with. It had taken you months to get this far, and the part of you that was sick playing pretend just wanted to let it all go to flames and see where the pieces fell in the aftermath. You weren’t sure if you could handle another day of acting like Zoro was just a friend to you and another night of going to bed wondering what it would be like if you had the courage to tell him how you felt. 

“Zoro no, I like you," gathering courage you started tentatively with a shaky breath and hoped that this time the confession would go through. "I was, I was upset because Brook told us about Hiyori and you and then Luffy told us about Okiku-san and then she died the night of the fight and then- it was all a lot to process and- and I was jealous. And hurt. And I didn’t know how to handle it so I thought avoiding you would help because I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.”

Your voice went back to a wobbly whisper by the end, and so you missed the way Zoro was looking at you. You’d looked up briefly at some point during your long-winded defense but you'd gone back to the comfort of staring at the ground, talking about this was hard enough. Was it because you'd seen the way Zoro's eyes had widened? Possibly, but you were shaking with nervousness and there was only so much you could admit to on a day when all you were planning to do was finish your book, really. Hearing you talk, his expression had gone through shock, mild distaste at hearing you thought he liked Okiku which immediately changed to a smirk as soon as he heard you say you were jealous. Right now, there was only half a smirk on his face because he was fighting a smile that was threatening to show up. 

“Stupid woman, why didn’t you tell me?”

“What?” 

“That you liked me." Your head shot up at that and all you could do was stare wordlessly at him as he continued, each next word causing another heartbeat to miss, leaving you with an anxiousness you felt bubbling in the depths of your chest. "Could’ve avoided all these tears if you’d told me earlier. ‘Cause I like you too.”

Your eyes widened hearing him and all of a sudden your brain went blank. All the questions you had for him disappeared and all you could do was look at Zoro wordlessly as he continued to speak. 

“I turned Hiyori down because I told her I like someone else, have liked, for a long time now. It’s you, dummy. I like you. Now, will you stop crying? You’re kinda ruining the moment here.”

He gently flicked your forehead and you smacked his arm out of reflex with an offended squawk. A grin broke out on Zoro’s face, “There we go, that’s my girl. Glad to have you back, princess.”

A watery smile made its way onto your face but you were still trying to process what you'd just heard. 

“You turned down Hiyori-san… for me? She’s the oiran," your voice faltered as you re-realized the reality. 

“Yeah, so?"

"She's the most beautiful girl in all of Wano."

"Yeah well, I think you're prettier." Your eyes widened at his words, tears long halted, as you looked up at him in awe. Like you couldn’t believe the moment you're in is real. Zoro's hands cup your face, his face inches away from yours, as he asks under his breath, "Can I- can I kiss you?" 

You nod as if in a daze and you feel his lips on yours immediately afterwards, hungry and hot. His other hand grabs your waist and pulls you closer to him in a single jerk and then he digs his fingers into the skin of your waist, holding you so tight it would've hurt had you been focusing on that instead of drinking his gasps and little groans in. Breaking away from the kiss and looking into Zoro's eyes, you saw a searing look in there that would've buckled your knees had he not been holding you. Tiptoeing, you pressed a shorter, chaste kiss onto his lips and hoped Zoro could feel what you were trying to say: thank you, thank you. 

Pulling away, you make yourself comfortable in Zoro's hold, looping your arms around his neck and when you speak there's a twinkle in your eyes, "So… you had a crush on me, huh? That's embarrassing."

"Oi! You said you liked me first!"

You throw your head back and laugh, because yeah he's got you there but you've got him now so you can't be a sore loser. Not today, anyway. 

BONUS:

It's late at night and you're lying next to Zoro on the deck, staring up at the sky. The remainder of the day was spent skirting around each other, sharing furtive glances and shy smiles when others weren't looking. Telling others hadn't come up yet but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about what this meant for the both of you. With that thought still lingering, you piped up. 

"Soo, does this mean we're dating?"

"Nope."

"What?! Why not?" you cried out in indignation and propped yourself up on your elbows to turn to him, offense painted all over your face. 

"You still have to ask me out," Zoro pointed out.

"I confessed to you!"  

"Exactly, that's why you have to ask me out."

"You-" The logic didn't make any sense but you of all people knew it was futile to argue with Zoro when he'd made up his mind. So you lay back down with a sigh, "Fine. Fine. Roronoa Zoro, will you be my boyfriend?" 

You turn to him after you finish your question, staring into his eyes with only a slight glare, loving annoyance pricking your tone but you both know it's harmless. Zoro matches your stare with his own and doesn't speak but leans in closer towards you to close the gap with a kiss he hopes answers your question: a resounding yes. But just in case you hadn't received the message, he mumbles it softly against your lips, "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to say yes." 

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #zoro x yn #roronoa zoro x yn #zoro fluff #roronoa zoro fluff #one piece fluff #one piece x yn #t.writes #roronoa zoro

[uluvjay]

Can you do a fic if ““i can’t get you out of my head.” “...thanks?” With mark estapa?

Mark Estapa x established relationship! reader

Warnings?; Part scene, drinking, kissing, like one swear word, fluff

A/n; I got a little stuck on where to go with this so I decided to go with a drunk mark re-confessing his lover to reader, hope you enjoyed anon💕

—

You and Mark were sat on the porch swing of the senior house as you were trying to get him to sober up with some water. Mark on the other hand was going on and on about how much he loved you.

“And your just the prettiest person ever, I mean did you know duker had a thing for you when we first met you? But I told him that I was gonna make you mine and his ass needed to ba-“ he’s told you this story plenty of times while drunk and it always ended with him getting mad at poor Dylan so you cut him off.

“I know baby, and I love that you knew you wanted me from day one” you smiled at him and kissed his head.

It was silent for a moment between the two of you, no noise besides the music that could be heard from the inside and people coming and going. You were about to ask him if he wanted to start walking home but he started talking before you got the chance.

“I can’t get you out of my head” he told you sitting up a little more and looking at you.

“Thanks?..” you replied with a small laugh

“No baby I’m serious, all I can ever think about is you and our future. Like where will we end up after college, will we buy a house or rent, what kind of dog will we get, what ring- wait no I already know what your dream ring is, what kind of wedding we’ll have, how many kids we’ll have. I can never get you and our future out my head.” He told you and you could feel yourself crying.

“Hey! No, did I say something wrong? Oh baby I’m so sorry” he started panicking and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“No god no, you didn’t say anything wrong. In fact everything you said was perfect, absolutely perfect.” You told him as you pulled him into a kiss.

“I love you so much Mark and I can’t wait to see what our future will hold, I can’t wait to marry you and start a family in a home we have together, I can’t wait to have your babies and watch them run around with whatever dog we end up with in the yard of our home”

He didn’t reply just tackled you into another kiss and held you close, but as always your sweet and intimate moment was ruined by none other then Dylan Duke.

“Guys! Holy fuck hurry up, or your gonna miss Rutger and Johnnys wrestling match!” He called out with a laugh before running back in the house.

#mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa imagine #dylan duke x reader #dylan duke #rutger mcgroarty #luke hughes #jack hughes #hockey imagine #nhl #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes #nhl imagine #umich hockey #uluvejay request week

[jamneuromain]

Wild Child Chapter. 1

Series Summary:

As the granddaughter of the sole Duke in your country, you know that you were going to marry some douche prince, because it is the only way to solidify the grasp the future king has on the Upper House. On the flight home, you come up with a brilliant plan to defy your upcoming matrimony.

Bringing a random man to your grandfather's place, and say you have a boyfriend already.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Before I meet your family?" Ari cocks his head to the side, watching you adjusting your cerulean Valentino dress when you wave your hand dismissively.

"Just say we're in love and help me get out of marrying this D-bag."

Ari Levinson x You

#i didn't know he is my fiance-douchebag-prince

#when i did, it was too late

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome on board Flight CM80072 from London to Ancetol. This is your Captain speaking. My name is…”

The broadcast started as you stuffed your ears with your earbuds. The screeching static along with the horrible noise whenever the captain chewed the mic in his lips and popped every consonant as if he couldn’t speak otherwise.

You should have brought your earplugs.

Or fly your private plane.

Correction: Fly your family’s private plane.

But you guessed they were still mad at you, which was probably the reason why the bodyguard they sent simply handed you an envelope with an airplane ticket inside.

“Would you like to see the menu?” The stewardess asked you with a kind smile, handing you the thick book of menu, “We have foie gras, smoked salmon, or veal rolls for the main course. Of course, you can also choose the vegan meal. All the ingredients are listed below the dishes.”

“I’ll have the veal roll.” You took a sip of the lemon-flavored soda she gave you earlier, “First course - the shrimp, and dessert would be the … ice cream, with extra berry toppings?”

“Excellent choice, Miss Y/L/N.” The stewardess nodded, taking notes of your demands, the impeccable smile still on her lips, “Any drinks?”

The bodyguard to your back coughed. Very loudly. Very spontaneously. As if he would be dead if someone didn’t hand him a glass of water or ship him off to the chemotherapy very soon.

“Cappu…” you changed your mind as soon as you were “reminded” that you were not allowed to drink alcohol, "Screw it, apple cider please.”

“Miss -” The bodyguard in the full black suit tried to warn you, “His Lordship won’t be pleased.”

“His Lordship,” you sniggered, “desperate measure to demonstrate his control over me, huh? Plus, I don’t think I recall our King has issued any announcement on the succession of the title. So, Lord him all you like. Pathetic man. I’m not respecting someone who participated perhaps even less than a minute in creating me.” You muttered the last few words under your breath.

You could practically imagine what “His Lordship” would do when he hears the report from the bodyguard, word for word.

He might throw some crystal ornaments to the wall, shouting at the top of his lungs, as if that would reinforce his authority.

A man to your right chuckled. Like you, he was just approached by the stewardess regarding his meal choice, now sipping scotch on the rocks. You glared at him. He looks like a man in his 30s. Terribly well dressed. The suit fitted his tailoring right up to his cufflinks. Golden cufflinks, you might add. White shirt without a tie. Long hair with a full-grown beard.

“Sorry, can’t help but overhear.” He raised his hands and folded them on his knees, “I’m Guy. Guy Thomas.”

“Mr. Thomas,” you shared your given name with him, but left out your family name, offering to shake his hand.

“Guy.” He stressed, “You’re from Ancetol?”

You were born in the outskirts of Ancetol, the capital of your home country, Ballenia, one of the few countries that are still ruled by a monarch. Your mother was relieved that you were blessed with a quick birth. But your father wanted nothing more than a boy. A boy that could take the family title and carry the family honor. Probably why he didn’t make an appearance until the second day of your birth. Reluctantly. You might add.

You spent the next couple of years of your life in a small town in Ballenia, growing up with your mother who thought innocently that your father would miraculously love you and accept you both as family.

You stopped believing in “a happy marriage” a long time ago. No. You stopped believing in “marriage”. And the fairy tales. And the lovely stories that told you one day, Prince Charming would come to rescue you riding his big white horse and ask you to be his wife, and some happily ever after bullshit.

No.

The reality was, fairly close to the story of your family, where the “Cinderella”, your mother, was abandoned by the prince, who is your father, and he had a couple of mistresses when Cinderella was only allowed to be presented during formal circumstances.

Ah yes, after all, a divorce would destroy the reputation of His Lordship. Making them look bad if they kick a civilian woman out of the door. The press would go frenzy about it, spreading the news that the “Cinderella” had been divorced by the cold-hearted heir of the Duke.

Luckily, or, unlucky for your father, it was your grandfather who carried the Duke title. Your grandfather who was equally displeased with you, a useless girl. Your grandfather, who passed away quite recently. Three days ago.

Hence, your urgent return. And some pretenses for the reputation of your family.

So, sunglasses it is then. During the funeral. With a white handkerchief. No one will see your dry eyes incapable of producing tears, not for that old bastard anyway. You thought to yourself, eyeing the huge bulk of a man next to you.

Did you forget to mention that the late Duke did the same trick as your father? Marrying a civilian woman and keeping a dozen mistresses in the same mansion they live in?

“You sound local.” You commented on the way he speaks English, “Are you from Ancetol as well?”

“Aww, what gave it away?” The man switched to fluent Ballenian, the language you haven’t heard of for years, and asked you, sounding sincere, “Is it the ‘r’? I always mess up the ‘r’.”

“Your name doesn’t sound local though,” you buckled your seatbelt as the stewardess stepped close to inform you the plane was ready to depart, lowering your eyes to fumble with the metal link, “Guy Thomas. Very American.”

Ari, no, Guy, pushed a little smile on his lips.

Of course, this name sounded American. You would freak out if he told you his true name.

“My mother is American and my father is Ballenian.” Which was 75% true because his mother was half American. The other half Danish.

He went by “Guy Thomas” when he was having fun among people and didn’t want to spoil everything by announcing he was Ari. The fucking prince of Ballenia.

Total mood killer.

“Are you here for business or pleasure?” You joked, “Or visiting your family?”

“Mostly business.” Ari fabricated a lie out of nowhere, “I work as a manager of my family business.” Technically that’s not a lie. He even slipped in some details for credibility.

Family business, the kingdom.

Manager, well sort of, since his dad owned the country.

“And I’m back in Ballenia to secure a deal.”

You lacked interest in business and all that, waving your hand as if dismissal, but allowing the stewardess to come and take away the food and drink in front of you, “hard to do business nowadays, especially when the Minister of Foreign Trade is a jackass.”

“You speak as if you know him.”

“Please, he’s been in that position for fifteen years.” You rolled your eyes.

The minister tried to get you to marry his hideous, lazy, pig-like son who knows nothing more than eating, smoking, and partying. Promising your father to “sweeten the deal” by favoring the company your mother owned but your father controlled.

Your father really would have said yes if it weren’t for the deal years ago, promising you to another man already. A man more powerful than the minister or his son will ever be.

“Of course, he is a jackass. If not now, then somewhere in his 15 years of gripping the foreign trade.” But you were not telling a total stranger about you being promised around like a Ming-Dynasty Vase. “Just look at the new announcement he made with the U.S. What deal did he make? None! Claiming that ‘further efforts are needed’. Further my ass. The Ambassador from the States could barely keep the smile on his face for Christ’s sake.”

Ari took a mental note to look into this “jackass” Minister.

“What about you?” He asked, “Visiting your family? Plan on staying here long?”

You pursed your lips on hearing the question.

Visit your family? How about dead family?

You were here to attend your grandfather, the late Duke’s funeral.

Staying long?

You wouldn’t curse yourself like that.

The longer you stay, the more probable your father and your mother will talk you into marriage.

You loved your mother, but for Christ’s sake, “I hope not.”

Ari didn’t respond to your reply. He simply hummed, making you confused about whether he agreed with you or not.

The plane did not wait for a minute more before departing into the air. A short while of gravity shift brought you 30,000 feet up in the sky. You pulled down the blind as the annoying sunlight burned your eyes, getting up for a bit more leg room and heading to the bathroom.

In the blink of an eye, a violent turbulence threw you off your own feet.

The soft ring of the safety belt sign turned the orange light on, while you slowly came to your senses that you weren’t embraced by the ground, but rather a firm body wrapping around you. One arm on your back, holding your upper body, another hung – rather awkwardly – in the air. You were sitting on his thick thighs sideways. Your ankle hurting. You were pretty much sure you twisted it with your damn heels.

“Miss Y/L/N!” The bodyguard hurried towards you, completely disregarding the tremble of the plane, rushing to your side. “Miss, I need you to try and stand up.” He held out an arm, leaning towards you to help you up.

Seeing him trying to assess how hurt your ankle was, you were very touched that he was concerned and reacted quickly. Maybe a small pay rise for him if you get back to your home?

Your bodyguard sighs, shaking his head with a disapproving look, “If this is your way of trying to escape the deal, his lordship won’t be pleased.”

Oh yes, the deal. The deal that simply packed you like a FedEx item and threw you to the palace door. The deal that promised you to the prince, right after you were born. The deal that you were told by your parents to honor for as long as you can remember. The deal lurking in the corner and bit you in the ass whenever you had done something to displease your father, reminding you over and over again that the only reason that you were alive was the fucking deal.

Apparently, your father had left out a most important piece of detail when instructing this bodyguard to “guard” you from running away.

You hardly ever do as you’re told.

“I think my ankle is broken.” You said dryly, pointing at your feet, not even trying to pretend that you can convince no one with your bland facial expression, “Can’t get up.”

Ari bit his lips so that he wouldn’t laugh.

You were sure as hell an interesting soul.

If he had any doubt or concerns regarding marrying you, a complete stranger in a matter of weeks, he now had none.

He thought you were the kind of girl who was a black sheep in the family, a wild child, with tattoos on your eyeballs or something. But you were nothing like his imagination.

Wild? Sure.

Black sheep? Compared to your father, the to-be-Duke, who seemed more like what the term was describing.

Ari raised his eyebrows, “Although I wouldn’t oppose you sitting on my thighs,” he nodded towards the stewardess who lurked behind the thin veil of curtain, “I’m afraid she would be unable to do her job properly if this continues.”

You clenched your jaw. Ignoring the extended hand from your bodyguard, you stood up, feeling instantly a sharp pain stinging your bones.

Bathroom was long forgotten, not that you have a chance to reach there on your own, you slumped down the seat and made sure you pushed the seat back until you could almost lie down like on a gurney. Lifting the hurting ankle on your other ankle, you closed your eyes.

Fuck his lordship.

The pain throbbing on your ankle. Your body dipped in both the coolness of the AC and the heat from your spine and the back of your head.

The few hours on the plane became more and more unbearable.

The veal roll didn’t lift your spirit in any way when it was brought to you.

The meat itself was fine. Only that it tasted like wax to you. You let out a long exhale as you outstretched your leg to ease the stress. Finishing the meal barely, you pushed the plate away, not even looking at the cider that you were thrilled to piss your father off with, and asked the stewardess for some paper. Empty sheets for writing.

She was clearly dumb-founded by your request, but hurried to carry your idea out.

You thanked her when she brought you some sheets, torn from some notepad as there were jigsaw razor edges on the side of the paper.

If the pain and the fact that every second you were closer to Ballenia was bothering you, you only needed something more bothering to take your mind off.

Ari narrowed his eyes when he cast a glimpse that you pulled out a pen from your bag from the overhead compartment and started writing on the empty sheets of paper.

Call him nosey but he wanted to know what you were writing.

Too inconvenient for him, your letters scribbled too small for his eyes to see. Occasional glimpses couldn’t help him read your writing. Nor that the content on your phone was clear enough for him to read either.

He did know that should be a text of some kind.

What text though? That was the real question.

…not some kind of text that could curse the royal family of the Ballenia, right?

Ari was almost amused by his own thoughts, before a shiver ran down his body and stuck an idea in his mind that this was totally and perfectly possible.

…you wouldn’t, would you?

Hard to tell. You weren’t exactly obeying the orders to marry him. Delaying it a couple of times in the past three years. And now, hearing that you had just called a minister “asshole” … or was it “butt ass” (?), anyway, something about ass, behind his back, and that you could mull a long face over your own bodyguard? Ari couldn’t figure out your temper and your actions all of a sudden.

The adjectives, that your father and his father used when they were talking about you, didn’t even come close to you.

“Kind” “Warm” “Considerate” “Perfect Princess”.

“Exceptional”. Maybe this was the right word.

Definitely different and strong-minded.

He could almost imagine the changes you would bring to his family and the kingdom.

He could discuss politics with you. You had your own thoughts and ideas, which was a good sign. Talk about foreign policies. Speaking of, he should really have someone fetch your dissertation from your university to understand where lies your interests. He’d allow gossip on the table too, if that’s what you like.

Ari hated gossip.

And there he was, imagining the future with you, before you were willing to marry him.

“If you want the book, I can lend it to you.” Your voice snapped him out of his fantasies. You had stopped scribing and rubbing your knuckles with your other hand. Pursing your lips together, you had, obviously, found out that he had his eyes glued to you.

“I’m sorry?”

“The History and Nature of International Relations.” You shrugged, twirling your wrist and your shoulder for writing too long, “I gotta warn you though, it’s pretty boring.”

Ari knew the correct answer to his question, but he asked either way, “You are studying it?”

“No. Yes. Hmpf,” You pouted at your change of words, “I did. I was. I was studying International Relations.” Something blipped in your mind, “Did you know this book?”

Ari smiled, “Took a course in International Relations years ago. I’m surprised they are still using it as an example of a textbook – where did you study?”

“NYU.” That’s a plain fat lie. You had a friend studying at NYU, but you were not planning on giving all your personal information away to a complete stranger, “You?”

Ari cocked his eyebrows. You were studying in Cambridge. He read that from your file.

“University of Ancetol.” Because studying there demonstrated the confidence of the Royal family in their country’s educational system. From there, the lies weaved themselves from his lips, “Got an undergrad degree and started to take over the family business. I visited New York last year,” along with his father, the King, but they travelled as quietly as they could, initiating a state visit without disturbing the press, “I miss school, now that I’m thinking of it.” Ari sighed deeply, “Wanted to get a grad degree but work’s too busy.”

“A manager in your family business?” You teased him light-heartedly, “Surely you can spare the time and study for a grad degree.”

Ari chose to evade this question. Reaching for his suit pocket, he fished out a business card with his name (Guy Thomas) and phone number on it, handing it to you, “Grad school doesn’t exactly tolerate me flying all over the world for … my family business.” He pushed his soft brown hair behind his ears, his eyes sparkling with a hint of joy that he had successfully fooled you, “Jewelry, my specialty. Diamonds, pearls, gemstones … call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, and she got her Master’s degree two months ago.” Ari casually dropped this to his parents in the middle of having dinner, he almost felt proud of his future wife, “Majoring in Political Science and International Relations. With a merit… no, distinction. The top 10% of her class.”

“We want a princess, not a college professor.” His father looked rather disappointed, “We were promised a princess.”

Ari didn’t understand.

If it were to be a marriage without love, he’d rather his spouse would be clever than bimbos who need help spelling “distinction”. Clever would mean he has a handful to deal with, yes, but what’s the fun in talking with someone who only cares about mani-pedi and the latest fashion magazines when he would be running the country?

Why wouldn’t they want someone smart as his wife?

“Your father is right, Ari,” his mother, Queen Olivia, reminded him with a softer tone, “we don’t need someone academically outstanding. We only want her to care for your home, you, and your future children.” She then turned to Ari’s father, King Victor, with blame framing her tone, “Told you should’ve just kept her with us when she was born. I knew Y/L/Ns were incompetent in raising our son’s future wife.”

Ari nearly spat out his food, “HOUSEWIFE?” Earning the “Shhh” from the Queen, he ignored the palace rules and the rules of being a prince altogether, “You want a HOUSEWIFE as the future queen?”

“For the moment.” Olivia waved her hand as if all this was not important, “Only temporal. After you get acquainted with the Upper House, you could divorce her and we’ll find you a proper wife.”

Taglist: @irishhappiness @patzammit

Find the Wild Child Masterlist here 👈

Questions? Comments? Requests? 👉Send them to my inbox 👂

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fluff #prince!ari levinson #royalty au

[probablynoposts]

I’ve Been Reincarnated Into The Male Lead! (Part 3)

Malleus Draconia x Gn!Reader - Isekai AU

I’m back finally, this will probably be quite short but whatever part 1, part 2, masterlist

Malleus followed you. He couldn’t help himself. To him, you are the brightest lantern on a moonless night. He would be the butterfly that can’t help but be enticed and drawn to you. But you were quick. Just as he reached you, you were in a room with the door already closed.

“Insolent child!” Malleus pauses, quickly noticing it’s not your voice. Instead, it was your father’s. “How can you not do the one thing I ask of you?!”

“But-”

“Shut up! You had a chance to do it!” Your father hisses. “My brother was an idiot, having a child with a commoner. I suppose, if he couldn’t do anything right, neither could his child.”

“Hey-!”

Slap. Your face stings, and your voice goes silent.

"Now, there will be consequences for this failure and disobedience."

Your 'father' pauses. "You and Prince Malleus will have tea together in three days. I think you know what I expect to happen." As he says that, he takes out a small vial. Though it’s far away, Malleus knows what’s inside. Poison.

Malleus wants to go in, to hug and save you from that monster of a 'father'. But he heard Sebek, one of his bodyguards, who despite having trust in you, very little, little trust, would arrest you(and your father) for treason. So Malleus leaves before he can be spotted.

When Malleus took you to look at the stars that night he saw your injury, he tried to comfort you. He also wanted to ask many questions and questions. Varying from ‘Has everything been fake?’ or ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Will you really kill him?..’

Over the next three days, Malleus does several things. 1) Not tell Lilia about the assassination. 2) Try to keep you away from your ‘father’ and at the palace. 3) Clean up the ball, and finally…. 4) Prepare to be poisoned and meet the female lead..

When it was time for you and Malleus to have tea, he was prepared. While saddened at what he knew what was going to happen, he was still grateful to see you. You had been avoiding him. His eyes light up as he sees you, though they dim slightly as he sees your father is escorting you. Your ‘father’’s grip on your shoulder seems tighter than usual. While Malleus is trying to not swat that traitorous hand straight off your shoulder.

“Why are you here, Duke?” Malleus asked coldly.

“I’m just here to look after my lovely child.” Your ‘father’ said ‘lovely’ as if he was trying to convince himself as well.

“I’m sorry, but you weren’t invited. Now why don’t you leave before you offend me more than you have already.” Malleus ordered. With that, your ‘father’ stepped out, seething at the power Malleus has over him. Malleus then showed you to the flower gardens, where there was a table and chairs set up.

As you and Malleus sat down and started a conversation, he notices that you seem upset.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?” You seem slightly surprised that he asks “Just…looking at the flowers.” You gesture to the plethora of different colored flowers surrounding you and Malleus.

“They are quite beautiful, aren’t they?” Malleus responds, looking around at the flora, calmly smiling.

“Yes, they are.” You answer, still not meeting his eyes. Despite you avoiding his initial question, he doesn’t press on.

Malleus then picks up his tea cup, realizing the tea had been delivered. He blows on it slightly, as to not burn his tongue. He realizes something.

“Hm? The tea must have been placed when we were looking at the flowers, it’s not as hot as it usually is.”

“Yes, it must have been.” You murmur quietly, glancing down nervously at your cup of tea.

“Cheers.” Malleus holds up his tea cup.

You pause, then a small smile creeps upon your face. “Cheers.”

The two of you clink the glasses together and then put them to your lips. As Malleus takes a sip of his tea, he waits for the pain to hit. A whole paragraph was used in the original book to explain how the excruciating the pain was. Not looking forward to ‘it felt like the world was shutting down, and that everything inside was failing.’ But nothing..?

He’s then looks up at you and sees blood dripping from your mouth. Though a hand covers it, it also seems to be trying to keep in the coughs that bring the blood with it. But instead of a look of fear in your eyes, like the look in Malleus’, there is only sadness and resignation. Malleus’ felt like his world was shutting down as he saw you collapse to the floor, with an empty tea cup..

Yeah, surprisingly, I’m not dead. This is really short(I’m sorry), but I’m surprised I actually got this much done. Again, sorry if characters are ooc and hope you enjoyed.

[taglist]: @naroshinozaki @animesimpanon@starriwonderland@jumiver @thedianaclark@younganarchist-blog @aixaingela@ztracker

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #malleus draconia #twst mc #malleus twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst angst #angst #isekai #twisted wonderland angst #yuu #twst x yuu #twst x reader #nrc #twst nrc #villainess isekai #twisted wonderland au #gender neutral mc #gn reader

[starry-hughes]

the breakup

dakota called multiple times. the bar emptied. the watch party ended. “mark please just call me and tell me you’re okay.”

he wasn’t answering. watching some of his teammates pack up forever. he couldn’t breathe. he didn’t feel like he could breathe until he got back to ann arbor.

dakota was there to pick him up he kept walking. “mark.” “go home dakota.”

“mark.”

he kept walking. she glanced at his friends. “dakota just give him a second.” she ignored them, following her boyfriend. “i don’t know what you’re feeling right now. and i just want to help. but you can’t just walk away from me.”

mark stops, he’s fiddling with something in his hands. his teammates watching. “please.” he turns for a second and metal hits dakota’s shoes. she doesn’t want to look down. “leave me alone dakota.”

her apartment key, mark’s copy. it’s laying at her feet. “dude,” ethan shouts, taking off after mark, he turns, tears welting in his own eyes for his friends, “kota i’m sorry.”

dakota couldn’t breathe until she got to her apartment. she threw her keys to the side and the sob escaped her lips. she was sobbing. she went to her closet, ripping down all the michigan hockey shirts she had collected. she couldn’t breathe. she looked at the wad of yellow ribbons she always wore in her hair for games, angrily throwing it into the trash.

everything was in a trash bag. it was late when she knocked on the door of the house. “dakota he’s not in the mood-” dylan duke opened the door, eyes still red from tears. “take this. i don’t want his shit. i can’t look at it,” she cried handing him the bag. “dakota just give him-”

“tell him that i don’t ever want to see him again. do you understand dylan? never. tell him to walk the other way on campus. tell him to not come to my work or try to make it better. i am tired of being shut out.”

dylan swallowed hard. “dakota, please.”

she laughed through the tears. “i-i try. i try to understand how much hockey affects you guys. and i know you guys love it and it’s your life. but mark is supposed to love me too. i try to help and every time i try to help he refuses.” she holds her head high and wipes her face. “i’m sorry you guys lost. and i’m sorry about the guys leaving for their teams. and i’m sorry for making you the messenger. but i can’t keep doing this.”

she walks down the driveway, to her car that is still running. dylan is biting his tongue but he can only do it for so long before the protection of his best friend comes out. he would do anything for mark.

“yeah you’re right, it’s better you walk away from him now. when he’s going to need you the most. can’t wait to watch him tear down that photo of you in his locker.”

she turns on her foot, noticing ethan has entered the doorway. she wants to say something but she can’t. “mark is our best friend. so sure we will pick up the pieces for you. because you’re going to break him. this is going to break him,” dylan continues.

dakota looks at ethan. “you should go before he comes downstairs,” ethan says coldly, “you know, so you don’t have to see him.”

she bit her bottom lip, keeping herself from completely breaking down. the door slammed as she walked away and got into her car. the boys wouldn’t admit it, but they waited until she got into her car safely to stop watching.

dylan threw the bag to the side, where all the shoes were in a pile. “who was that?” mark had come downstairs, eyes bloodshot. “no one,” ethan said, eyes flickering to mark’s attire. he was wearing shoes and his keys were in his hand, “where are you going?”

“i think i should go apologize to kota.”

“mark-” dylan started. “i was shitty to her and she just wants to help.” “buddy-”

“i really love her. and i was a dick to her and-”

“she just dropped all your stuff off here.”

#dakota and mark

[hugshughes]

exile D. Duke

Dylan Duke x ex!fem!reader JJ McCarthy x fem!reader (couldn’t help myself)

synopsis - when you and Dylan see each other for the first time after your breakup, and you have a new boyfriend doting on you, he’s upset. he finds a way to get you alone and interrogates you on how you could already move on from him.

wc - 2k

contains - UNEDITED!!! cursing, shouting, unrequited feelings, miscommunication, Dylan and reader are mean, asshole!Dylan a little (im sorry munchkin), no happy ending between Dylan and reader, happy ending between JJ and reader though ;), JJ McCarthy is reader’s new boyfriend (i did that for me), hypocrisy (?), flashback is in italics, as always lmk!!!!

an - this was probably the easiest and quickest for me to write so far, exile is a pretty short song lyrics wise and it just speaks to me. i love this one a lot, so i hope you do too! JJ McCarthy is just my fav boy so you know i jumped at the opportunity to have him in this. ummmmm yeah lmk how you like it! also yeah i know i skipped tlgad but that fic is slowlyyyyyyyy coming together, it’s just a littleeee more difficult. celebration masterlist

-

i see you standing, honey. with his arms around your body. laughing but the joke’s not funny at all.

It was the first party of the school year. Dylan doesn’t know why he thought you wouldn’t be there, of course you would be. But he really didn’t think he’d walk through the fraternity house to see you standing in a circle in the kitchen, back pressed up against the starting quarterback, his arms around your waist.

When Mark looked over and saw what Dylan was staring at, he almost laughed. Not because he’s a bad friend or anything, just the look on Dylan’s face was laughable. He didn’t laugh though, he sighed and brought a heavy hand to pat his friend on the back, not saying anything.

Dylan’s eye could’ve twitched when he saw your head fall back on JJ’s shoulder, your laughter like honey in Dylan’s ears. How could you laugh like that? JJ hadn’t even said anything that funny, in Dylan’s opinion.

and it took you five whole minutes, to pack us up and leave me with it. holdin’ all this love out here in the hall.

Dylan was getting more agitated every time he saw you, because every time he saw you, JJ was on your tail, following you around like a lost puppy with hearts in his eyes.

He wondered how long you two had been a thing, if you had even waited two weeks before jumping to a new guy. He knew in a deep and closed off part of his heart you wouldn’t do that, he knew you probably hadn’t gotten together till late summer.

When you broke up with Dylan, he was blindsided. He was so surprised, he never saw it coming. He didn’t realize how much he’d been taking and not giving, and how drained you were becoming because of it.

i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending. you’re not my homeland anymore. so what am i defending now? you were my town, now i’m in exile seeing you out. i think i’ve seen this film before.

He decided his night was ruined. He sat moping in the corner where his friends hunkered down at the party, gripping the glass bottle in his hand while his friends all tried to cheer him up.

“Dude, you can’t let her just being here with JJ get you all fucked up.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes at Ethan. He stood up pushing past them, storming off to the kitchen, searching for another beer. That’s when he came face to face with you, all alone, in an empty kitchen.

i can see you starin’ honey. like he’s just your understudy, like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me.

You noticed Dylan after you’d felt his eyes staring into the side of your head. Every where you went, he was there, staring daggers into you, into JJ. You’d met JJ in mid July, you’d both been vacationing at the same lake and knew of each other.

He was with his friends, while you were with your family. You were sitting at the dock while your parents and siblings were kayaking when JJ came up to you.

You heard a call of your name. You looked up from the book you were reading and saw someone you didn’t think you’d see for another two months, JJ McCarthy.

“Um, hi?”

You’d never really talked to him, maybe a hey in passing at a party but nothing more. You were mutuals on instagram but knew practically nothing about him.

“Hey, you remember me?”

You nodded, laughing at him. He started a conversation with you, sitting down next to you and asking about your summer. You’d talked for awhile, after about 25 minutes he asked if you wanted to come jet skiing with him and his friends. You were surprised, this guy that you’d never really talked to had taken such an interest in you out of nowhere.

You were reluctant but accepted his offer after he promised he wouldn’t let you get thrown off. You sat behind him on the jet ski and initially just gripped the straps on the back of his life jacket, but once the waves started getting rougher you wrapped your arms around him tightly, burying your head in his back.

After about an hour you went back in, you family had just finished up kayaking when JJ parked the jet ski.

“Um, I have a question, but I don’t know how you’ll react.”

Your brows furrowed, he seemed nervous for the first time in the two hours you’d spent with him. You nodded at him, telling him to go on.

“Are you uh, are you still with Duke?”

Your eyes widened as you inhaled sharply. You were quick to shake your head no.

“No! No um, no we broke up in April.”

He nodded, thinking for a beat.

“Then would it maybe be possible for me to get your number?”

And then you spent the rest of your summer getting to know JJ. Learning about his character and loving nature.

He asked you to be his girlfriend on August 11th, about a month after you’d initially given him your number, it was quick, but you’d felt like you’d known him forever.

Tonight JJ obviously noticed Dylan. He noticed the way Dylan stared at you all night. He found it amusing. JJ was clingy, very touchy, and sweet and you loved it. Since JJ saw Dylan, he decided to exaggerate his usual advances even more so. Kissing you frequently, always having his hands on you in some way, holding you against him, having you sit on his lap.

You went to the bathroom and on your way back almost knocked into none other than Dylan. You said hey courteously and it pissed Dylan off.

“Yeah hey, having fun with JJ?”

He said it in a sarcastic tone, exaggerating the word fun, like you were just with JJ for “fun” as in sex. You knew that was what Dylan was insinuating.

“Okay fuck you, you don’t get to say that.”

“I don’t? I don’t get to comment on the guy you got with after you dumped me?”

You were seeing red, you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming from your ears.

second, third, hundredth chance. balancin’ on breaking branches. those eyes add insult to injury.

“No, you don’t! And I didn’t dump you! I ended a relationship that had already fucking fallen apart!”

“What do you fucking mean?! ‘Fallen apart’? We were fine! We were good!”

“No, you were great Dylan! You were having an awesome time! I wasn’t! Everything I did was for you and I got nothing in return for it!”

Dylan stopped, staring at you. He never understood that you were not doing well at the end of your relationship, he was so happy, which must’ve meant you were too.

i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending. i’m not your problem anymore, so who am i offending now? you were my crown, now i’m in exile, seein’ you out.

“What Dylan? What? You don’t get to just stare at me like that. Like- like you didn’t realize how fucking miserable I was.”

“I fucking made you miserable? You could’ve fucking mentioned that maybe!”

“You don’t get it! You didn’t make me miserable, I just fucking was! And you just didn’t know, you didn’t realize. Why the fuck do you even care anyway? We’ve been done for almost six months!”

Dylan maneuvered around you, grabbing another beer.

“Maybe ‘cause you broke up with me with no explanation! I still don’t fucking understand what your problem was!”

i think i’ve seen this film before, so i’m leaving out the side door. so step right out, there is no amount of crying i can do for you. all this time.

“Exactly! You didn’t fucking pay attention to me! You assumed that because you were happy that I was, and I wasn’t! I had so much shit happening to me and you never considered it!”

we always walked a very thin line you didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out) you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs) all this time.

“You just shut me out out of no where! It wasn’t fucking fair to me!”

You and Dylan had never fought before the one that happened when you broke up with him, never. Now, you believe that it was because you two were never completely comfortable with each other. You felt like you had to be your best self for him, not your real self.

“I gave you so many indications that I wasn’t alright, that I needed you in a different way!”

“‘Indications?’ I can’t read your fucking mind, you should’ve just said something!”

i never learned to read your mind. (never learned to read my mind) i couldn’t turn things around. (you never turned things around) ‘cause you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs) so many signs, so many signs. you didn’t even see the signs.

“You know what? I’m not doing this shit, because, well I don’t have to anymore. Leave me alone Dylan, there’s nothing that anyone could do or say for us to be together again. We weren’t right for each other.”

And with that you stormed out of the kitchen seeking solace in JJ and your friends.

Dylan stood in the empty kitchen. Thinking over every word. He shouted out a curse word.

i think i’ve seen this film before, and i didn’t like the ending. you’re not my homeland anymore. so what am i defending now? you were my town, now i’m in exile seeing you out. i think i’ve seen this film before. so i’m leavin’ out the side door.

Dylan exited the fraternity, sitting down on the steps out of the back door. You and him had sat in that exact spot before, only then you two were snuggling, leaving lingering kisses on cheeks and foreheads, whispering sweet nothings.

JJ had immediately noticed your change in behavior when you came back and sat on his lap, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around you.

“What’s wrong gorgeous?” He whispered to you, knowing you wouldn’t want attentioned called to you.

“Ran into Dylan. Doesn’t matter though, don’t worry baby.” You murmured back to him, squeezing his hand, kissing his cheek.

“If you say so, but you know I’d beat him up for you if you asked.” You nodded and chuckled, he left a kiss on the top of your head, holding you tighter.

so step right out, there is no amount of crying i can do for you. all this time. we always walked a very thin line you didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out) you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs) all this time. i never learned to read your mind. (never learned to read my mind) i couldn’t turn things around. (you never turned things around) ‘cause you never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs) so many signs, so many signs. you didn’t even see the signs.

#hugshughes folklore celebration #dylan duke #exile #folklore #taylor swift #dylan duke x reader #jj mccarthy #jj mccarthy x reader #mark estapa x reader #ethan edwards x reader #luke hughes x reader #hockey #nhl #umich x reader #umich smut #umich fic #umich boys #umich blurbs #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich wolverines #umich #tampa bay lightning #folklore taylor swift #evermore #exile taylor swift #bon iver

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [5] - Tulips

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback and support my loves!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Affection finds a way to crack the ice.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of anxiety attack and past trauma.

Word Count: 5500

Series Masterlist

This wasn’t the first time you had woken up incredibly tense because of a nightmare, nor would it be the last but that knowledge did nothing to fix your mood. You had stepped outside to tend to your garden with the first light of the morning, and it was only when your aunt sent a maid outside to call you back home that you realized it was nearly noon. You cracked your back, making a face and made your way back into the house.

“…And I’m telling you, I’ve seen how he looks at her,” your aunt’s voice carried outside when you reached the hallway and you pulled your brows together, tilting your head to the side.

“My dear,” your uncle sighed. “I believe you but don’t you think they would make an unlikely couple?”

Ah.

This could only be about you and—

No. You refused to even think about his name.

“She pretends to hate him, but I think she has a soft spot for him already,” your aunt said and you grimaced.

You? A soft spot for Benedict Bridgerton?

“Our Clover?” your uncle said as if he could hear your thoughts. “Having a soft spot for him?”

You repressed a small smile, your uncle knew you too well.

“If you think he’s an unlikely suitor because he’s a second son, that hardly means anything considering his family.”

“That’s not why I think he’s an unlikely suitor,” your uncle said. “I just think if you and Lady Bridgerton attempt to push those two together it could backfire, they’re too different.”

Well yes. Benedict was a naïve romantic fool and you were not, that was your main difference.

“You know what they say, opposites attract.”

“He’s an artist,” your uncle reminded her. “He has all the privileges of a first son and none of the responsibilities. Considering his family, he’s very used to getting whatever he wants, not to mention how in demand his attention is— he is spoiled in every aspect of life. Clover would eat him alive.”

“Or he could soften her,” your aunt said and heaved a sigh. “I don’t know Howard. I am worried about her, I don’t want her to marry someone whom she will only tolerate and not love.”

You swallowed thickly, barely aware of the fact that you were rubbing at your wrist -a nervous habit of yours that you couldn’t get rid of- and threw your shoulders back, then made sure to make some noise in the hallway before walking into the drawing room.

“Good morning,” you said and made your way to your uncle to kiss his cheek, then your aunt’s. “Oh I’m so tired and in need of a bath—Paula, could you please draw me a bath?”

Your maid curtsied and walked out of the drawing room.

“You’re working too hard on that garden, dearest.”

“I like it,” you said as the latest issue of Whistledown in your aunt’s hand caught your interest. “Anything interesting?”

“Yes actually, now that you mention it.”

“I already heard about Daphne courting with Duke Hastings,” you waved a hand in the air. “It makes perfect sense if you ask me—”

“There’s something about you in there.”

Your head shot up and you blinked a couple of times.

“I’m sorry?”

Your uncle suppressed a small smile, sipping his tea.

“Look at you, making it to Whistledown’s lines,” he taunted you as you sat up straighter. “Only took you what, two weeks?”

“Please tell me you’re jesting,” you managed to say and your aunt shook her head.

“Not at all.”

“May I?” you asked her and she handed you the paper.

“The last paragraph,” she said helpfully and you opened the paper in a haste, your heart beating in your throat as you skimmed the lines.

Speaking of unlikely couples this season seems to have brought us, it appears that there is a new recipient of Benedict Bridgerton’s attention. Almost every guest at the Brewer Ball could see how he was in such a hurry to talk to Miss Y/N, and if the rumors are true, that seems to have become a habit of his nowadays. Though we do not know how Miss Charlotte feels about it, this author cannot wait to see whether our favorite artist can in fact melt the cold demeanor of this season’s ice queen.

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers.

“Clover?” your uncle felt the need to check as you stared at the lines in complete silence and you clenched your jaw, then lifted your head from the paper.

“Just in case this is not a bad dream and in fact is happening,” you pointed out as you stood up, putting the paper back on the coffee table. “If Teddy asks where I am, I’ve gone outside to scream.”

“You can do that after you return home,” your aunt said and you pulled your brows together.

“I am home?”

“Not for long you’re not,” she said. “We’re taking Teddy to meet Lady Bridgerton’s youngest boy after you have your bath and get ready.”

Your eyes widened. “What? No!”

“Yes. She invited us.”

“I’m not coming,” you protested immediately. “Tell her I’ve been sick with grief over today’s Whistledown and can’t leave my room.”

“I will say no such a thing and you’re alright,” she said. “Off you go.”

You shook your head fervently. “I don’t think it’s a good idea auntie,” you said and turned to shoot your uncle a pleading look. “Tell her.”

“Tell her what, dearest?”

“That it’s a terrible idea!”

“It’s merely a house visit.”

“No it’s not!” you insisted as you sat back down, making him smile slightly and steal a look at your aunt.

“What do you say Caroline?” he asked. “Should we let her sulk in her room all day or go see her secret suitor?”

“He’s not my suitor.”

“We should let her see her secret suitor,” your aunt played along and you let out a whine, slipping a little in the sofa.

“I’m not coming if he’s there,” you said. “My decision is final.”

Your aunt heaved a sigh. “He’s probably not there Y/N, I hear he likes going out with his brothers this time of the day.”

“But you’re not sure?”

“Well I didn’t ask Lady Bridgerton when she sent me an invitation for tea, no,” your aunt said and you ran a hand over your face before sitting up straight.

“Auntie,” you said. “You know what the ton will think if they see us even talking after this Lady Whistledown piece.”

“I doubt Lady Whistledown visits them in their home,” she pointed out. “She wouldn’t be seeing you, would she? And if you happen to have a conversation with him, that would be completely normal.”

“I will not be having a conversation with that—with that—” you stammered, furiously motioning at the gossip paper on the coffee table. “With that Lothario!”

“Lothario?” your uncle repressed a chuckle. “Dearest…”

“No, if I’m titled The Ice Queen by Lady Whistledown, it’s only fair she calls him by a fitting title as well!”

“I will let her know if I ever get to meet her,” your aunt stated and you licked your lips.

“You were there when he asked me for a dance beforehand,” you reminded her. “And he didn’t appear at the ball until it was nearly finished, and you’re still trying to push us together?”

“If I remember correctly, you were adamant on disliking him even before that ball.”

You scoffed a bitter laugh. “That’s not…” you trailed off. “That’s not relevant.”

“Is it not?”

“It was disrespectful when he didn’t keep his promise,” you insisted. “Do you not think so?”

“It was not ideal, yet not a grave mistake as you seem convinced it to be,” she said. “I think he just happened to accidentally point you in the direction of the closest runaway route by being late, that’s all.”

You gritted your teeth, your frown deepening before you heaved a sigh.

“I shall stay in their drawing room,” you said. “And I cannot promise to be nice to him.”

“Never thought you would be,” your aunt said with a smile after exchanging glances with your uncle and you huffed out, then pushed yourself off the sofa to make your way to your room.                                        

                                                 *

Fine, perhaps this wasn’t as terrible as you had assumed it would be.

Lady Bridgerton was very nice to you, Benedict was outside with his brothers -watching some sort of a boxing match as his mother had informed you and your aunt- and spending time with Eloise and Daphne was more entertainment than you’d had for a very long time. Even after Eloise excused herself to meet with Penelope, you and Daphne kept your conversation going and you had almost forgotten how long you had been there with the amount of fun you were having.

“Anthony does not like it,” Daphne said. “But I’d say my courtship with Duke Hastings is going quite well.”

You nodded your head.

“Well I’m glad you are happy,” you said. “If anyone should be a duchess it should be you.”

“…Do you really believe that?”

“Absolutely,” you said. “Are you jesting? You’re the diamond.”

“And do you think—” Daphne paused. “Do you think we would have a love marriage then? At the end of this courtship?”

You pulled back slightly and shrugged your shoulders.

“I don’t think I’m the right person to comment on matters of love,” you said and Daphne frowned.

“Why not?”

“I do not believe it exists.”

“At all?”

You shook your head. “At all.”

A slight smile curled Daphne’s lips.

“Well…” she said. “I do. And so do most of my family members. Benedict, for example.”

You could feel your heart starting to pace in your chest and you scoffed, sitting up straight.

“Good for him,” you said. “I hear he’s an artist, it’s no wonder he is under that delusion.”

“I do not believe it’s a delusion,” Daphne said. “But if you do not believe in love, what do you believe in?”

You paused for a moment, then pressed your lips together.

“Solitude,” you ended up saying. “I believe in solitude.”

A silence fell upon you and you looked around upon suddenly realizing Teddy was not in the room, nor could you hear him.

“Where’s Teddy?” you asked and Daphne waved a hand in the air.

“With Gregory and Hyacinth, I’m sure they’re playing somewhere in the house.”

“I’d better see where he is,” you said. “I will be right back.”

“Alright I will be here,” she said. “And perhaps when you come back you might let me hear you play the piano?”

“God forbid,” you said, making her let out a laugh and you shot her a small smile, then walked past your aunt and Lady Bridgerton and got out of the room. You walked through the hallway, pricking your ears up for any noise. When you heard the cheerful giggles and the sound of your brother, Gregory and Hyacinth running around, you smiled to yourself and walked past a room, the half open door catching your eye for a moment, making you stop dead in your tracks. You eyed the door and looked over your shoulder to see whether anyone was around, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip before you took a step to the room, raising your hand to slowly push the door open further.

This had to be the art room.

If the covered canvas perched on the wooden easel that was lit by sunlight wasn’t a clue, the overall mess of the room would still have made it clear. There were scrunched up papers all over the room, the palette on the small coffee table with paint all over it. By the corner of the room there looked to be a drawing desk with pieces of coal and pencils.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

One’s art was private unless it was shared with you and you knew that very well, but you were nearly enchanted by the room itself. It somehow made you feel like he was there, traces of him all over the room yet the lack of his presence meant you did not have to frown and be on guard all the time, just in case he peeked into something about you that you did not want him to see.

You lingered there for a moment in the middle of the room, then took a step towards the covered canvas, reaching out to graze your fingertips against the white cloth.

You were just going to take a quick peek at it and cover it again and walk away, no one had to know you’d seen it.

You swallowed thickly and pulled at the silk cover but as soon as it slipped off the canvas and allowed you to see the painting, a gasp got caught in your throat and you took a step back, staring at the painting.

Staring at yourself.

It was a painting of the flower exhibition you and Benedict had attended the other day and even if you could see the other people as well, the whole focus of the painting was you. It was as if your side of the painting was illuminated by the sunlight coming from the huge window while the rest of the crowd was a blur, so were the flowers except for the one you were inspecting—

Venus Flytrap.

He had told you, on the night of the ball. How he had been lacking inspiration for so long but that he could paint when he returned from the flower exhibition…

He was talking about you. He had been late because he was painting you.

You let out a breath, your hand covering your mouth as you blinked back the tears without even knowing why you were tearing up. It felt impossible to drag your gaze away from the painting and you were beginning to think you could just stay there forever, gazing at the art piece in front of you. You were in such a haze that you hadn’t even noticed the approaching footsteps in the hallway until someone cleared their throat, making you recoil and whirl around on your heels.

Benedict was leaning against the doorframe, a slightly abashed look crossed his face and he nodded at the painting.

“You know, I’m quite certain I left that covered.”

That.

That right there was more than enough to make the memories rush through your mind.

Back when you were still living in that hellhole your parents called home, there were certain rules and it was crucial not to cross them. Sneaking around was one of them, you weren’t supposed to be anywhere they didn’t want you to be, otherwise your father would get angry and—

That never ended well.

You could feel the panic rising from your heaving chest before it took over you and the cloth slipped from your hand as you rushed out of the door, ignoring him saying your name. You could swear you were as fast as a bolt as you ran downstairs to get yourself out of the house, trying to breathe but it felt impossible. Fear was already growing bigger and bigger in your throat and you were quite familiar with the feeling, but somehow it did nothing to put you at ease as you reached the garden.

You could feel your legs shaking as you let yourself fall on your knees, then laid your trembling hand flat on the grass, grasping your wrist with your other hand to squeeze it.

He was away. Both your father and your mother were away from you, miles and miles away and they couldn’t get to you anymore so this fear, though it was no stranger to you, did not make any sense.

They were not here.

You wiped at your eyes that were burning with tears before pressing your palm back on the grass again, letting out a shaky breath.

You really needed to pull yourself together, and you were going to as soon as your heartbeat stopped being so deafening, pacing in your chest with such speed that you could swear it hurt.

“Y/N?”

Oh, great.

You couldn’t even answer him if you wanted. You were too busy trying to get enough air into your lungs, as hard as it felt, and Benedict entered your sight before he crouched down to look at you better.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What’s wrong? Should I get someone? The doctor?”

You shook your head, your gaze fixed on the grass as you tried to get your breathing under control.

“But you—” he reached out as if he wanted to hold you and you flinched, your jaw locking in place.

“Do not touch me,” the growl that spilled through your clenched teeth sounded nearly inhuman and he pulled his hand back immediately as if he just got burned.

“Alright,” he said, his voice soft. “I will not. Can I sit here with you?”

You shrugged your shoulders, focusing on the feeling of soft soil under your palm and he sat down beside you as you sniffled.

“I’m fine,” you answered before he could ask anything, still staring at the grass and he nodded.

“Yeah I know,” he said. “I wanted to sit here that’s all, you just happened to be here.”

You scoffed a bitter laugh, still rubbing at your wrist before you took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t trying to…” you trailed off. “I was just curious.”

“The cover does arise curiosity now that you mentioned it.”

“And you were supposed to be outside.”

“I was, I just got back,” he paused for a moment. “I wasn’t aware you’d be here.”

“Your mother invited my aunt for tea so that my little brother could make friends with yours.”

“Oh Greg will get along well with Teddy,” he said. “Probably Hyacinth too.”

You nodded slowly, rubbing at your eye with the back of your hand and a fond smile crossed his lips.

“You didn’t tell me you…” you trailed off. “You didn’t tell me that was what you were painting.”

The tips of his ears went pink and he dragged his gaze away from you, ripping a piece of grass to wrap it around his finger in a nervous manner.

“It’s not finished yet,” he said. “And I did not mean to scare you, please accept my apologies.”

You gawked at him. “It’s your house,” you reminded him. “I was the one sneaking around.”

“That has no relevance to the situation.”

You bit back a smile, then pursed your lips and cleared your throat.

“I was wrong,” you said and he turned to look at you.

“I’m sorry?”

“Before I saw your painting, I just assumed that you didn’t have much of a talent and that all the ton claimed you did because those ladies liked the way you look, not your works,” you said. “I was wrong, you do have talent. A lot of it, it seems.”

That mischievous smile lifted the corner of his lip.

“Is that a compliment I hear, Miss Y/N?”

“I have better things to do than complimenting you,” you spat almost too quickly. “I’m just sharing an observation, that’s all.”

Benedict’s smile widened and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“What?”

“The way I look?”

You rolled your eyes. “Go find someone else to boost your arrogance, it’s not as if there’s a lack of volunteers.”

He held up his hands, gesturing surrender and you wiped at your nose again, taking a shaky breath. His eyes flickered over your face, then he cleared his throat and motioned at the garden.

“What does that do?”

“What?”

“That flower, do you know what it is?”

You pulled your brows together to look at what he was pointing at, and scoffed.

“Yes, I know what a tulip is and so do you.”

“But what does it do?” he insisted. “Does it do anything interesting?”

“No, it just looks pretty,” you said. “It used to be extremely popular though.”

“It still is.”

“Well yes but in 17th century there was this period called tulip mania,” you said. “People used to sell Semper Augustus tulips for extremely high prices, and even if one could afford it, it was so difficult to find.”

He hummed. “What’s Semper Augustus?”

“Well it’s a type of tulip, it’s white with…” you didn’t even notice you had pulled your hand off the grass to motion at the petals, “There are red flares through white, it’s admittedly beautiful or so people say. I think the only really beautiful tulip is The Queen of the Night Tulip though, it’s this deep purple flower and—” you stopped yourself when you noticed him listening to you with a soft smile. “What are you doing?”

“Learning new things about tulips,” he said and you blinked a couple of times, then bit inside your cheek, frowning slightly.

“Why?”

“I’m curious.”

Something told you he wasn’t talking about tulips anymore and you scoffed, rolling your shoulders back.

“Have you had the chance to read Whistledown today?”

He nodded. “My mother and sisters are avid readers, it’s a bit hard to avoid it.”

“So you’ve seen it.”

“The last paragraph, yes,” he said. “Ice Queen has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?”

You let out an unladylike groan. “Don’t look so satisfied with yourself.”

He had the audacity to feign innocence. “I have no idea what you speak of.”

“You’re smiling.”

That roguish smile of his widened. “Don’t be jealous just because you have a sickness that prevents you from smiling.”

You raised your brows. “Oh you talked to Kitty?”

“She talked to me the other night.”

You narrowed your eyes, tilting your head to the side and an exaggerated scandalous expression took over his face.

“In the ballroom, Miss Y/N,” he said. “I will not have you question my virtue.”

You couldn’t help the laughter escaping from your lips, the sound making him smile as well.

“Right,” you said as you tried to adapt a solemn expression, biting at your lip. “Your nonexistent virtue you mean.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Who’s to say?”

“Me.”

“Fine, other than you who’s to say?”

“Lady Whistledown.”

“Now wait a second—”

“The ton.”

“Alright, but—”

“Anyone I could stop on the street.”

“I feel like that’s a bit of a—”

“That tree over there,” you pointed at the direction of the tree you were referring to and he chuckled.

“Even so,” he said. “Assuming Miss Kitty and I could be anything but acquaintances might just be the worst insult you have thrown at me.”

“So far,” you stated. “It’s only noon.”

He watched you with a soft smile on his lips, that gentle light shining in his blue eyes for a moment before you averted your gaze from him and forced yourself to frown.

“Well I’d better…” you motioned at the house. “Daphne will wonder where I am.”

“Right,” he said after a moment as if he had forgotten there were other people in the house, then he stood up to offer you his hand. You paused only for a moment before you placed your hand in his, letting him pull you upright but as soon as you did, a warmth spread from your hand to your whole body. He seemed to have felt the small surge of lightning you did, because his grip tightened over your hand, the close proximity letting his pleasant scent fill your lungs and you swallowed thickly, pulling your hand out of his and forcing yourself to take a step back.

“This changes nothing by the way,” you said in a haste, motioning between you. “I still think you’re incredibly annoying.”

He put his hands into his pockets, shooting you a smile.

“Oh don’t worry,” he said. “I still think you’re cold as ice.”

“And your assumptions about me at the ballroom were arrogant at best, unacceptable at worst,” you added, sticking your nose up in the air. “Make sure not to express them again.”

“Do you always order people around or am I just special?”

“Do you always lack the capability of following the simplest instructions or am I just special?” you asked back and he gave you a playful look.

“You are just special.”

You made a face, “I know the whole ton has nothing better to do than feed your arrogance, but you’re not half as charming as you think you are.”

He shrugged his shoulders, feigning innocence. “You on the other hand are adorable when you’re frustrated.”

You could feel a fire spreading over your cheeks but you forced yourself to focus, frowning at him.

“I—you—” you stammered and scoffed. “Just do as I say.”

The mischievous glimmer in his blue gaze was impossible to miss. “As my lady wishes.”

Your lips pulled into an annoyed pout, making him bow his head in an attempt to hide his smile and you narrowed your eyes at him, then walked past him to go back into the house, your heart still pacing in your chest.

                                              *

After you and your aunt had left the Bridgerton house, your aunt had told you it was too lovely of a weather to spend time indoors, so after dropping by the house to change your gown, you and she had gone outside for a picnic.

The issue was that the whole ton seemed to have the exact same idea with your aunt.

Daphne was promenading with Duke Hastings as usual, and Eloise and Penelope were in a deep discussion by the lake, not paying attention to anyone else. A couple of minutes after arriving in the park, your aunt had gone to join Lady Featherington, Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton under the big umbrella, which was obviously some sort of an encouragement for some of the gentlemen to try to make small talk with you.

Needless to say, it was absolute torture.

You slipped past the Copper family and made your way to the gazebo a bit far away from the crowd with only a lady who was sitting in it, but she seemed very interested in her book and as soon as you got close enough to recognize who it was, you stopped dead in your tracks.

Oh. Charlotte.

She must have caught your sudden pause from the corner of her eye because she turned her head and instantly gave you a bright smile.

“Y/N!” she said. “Hello!”

“Uh hello,” you lingered in your spot. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m just avoiding my suitors and this seemed far enough.”

She let out a giggle and placed her book beside her.

“Nonsense, come!” she said and you bit inside your cheek.

“No no, never mind. I’ll just go somewhere else—”

“Oh don’t be silly!” she said and grabbed the small paper bag beside her. “I even have snacks.”

You eyed the paper bag and stole a look at her. “Really?”

“Yeah!” she said and patted the spot next to her. “Come sit!”

You heaved a sigh and went to sit beside her and she offered you the paper bag, letting you reach inside and get some walnuts into your palm.

“Thanks,” you muttered, popping one into your mouth. “What are you doing here away from the crowd?”

“I like reading outside,” she said. “I find it very relaxing. Are your suitors bothering you that much?”

You heaved a sigh and slipped a little on the bench. “You’d think I eliminated most of them by glaring but some of them are more stubborn than I thought.”

“It’s probably because of the diamond in the rough thing.”

You pulled your brows together and turned to look at her better. “What?”

“That’s what they call you,” she said. “Because the queen considered making you a diamond—”

“She didn’t consider that.”

“And you’re not as—well, nice to people as Daph,” she said almost apologetically. “And some people say you grew up poor until your uncle adopted you so…Diamond in the rough.”

You clicked your tongue. “Interesting,” you said. “I seem to be getting a lot of titles nowadays.”

“Well, Daphne and Duke Hastings will probably get married,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “Most of the lords know they have no chance with her anymore, aside from some really rich and confident ones.”

“And the others are beginning to flock to me like sheep down a hill?”

“Seems that way,” she said. “And you’re very beautiful.”

You made a face. “No, that’s not the reason.”

She raised her brows. “No?” she asked. “Then what is?”

“My uncle is rich with no heir other than my little brother,” you said. “And in case of his death, God forbid, my little brother will need guidance until he comes of age to control the wealth of the family. Who would be a better prospect than my future husband with direct access to said wealth?”

She scrunched up her nose.

“I don’t believe money is of any importance when it comes to marriage,” she said. “The only thing that matters is love.”

“Is there something in the water they serve in the Bridgerton House?” you asked, making her let out a giggle. “No seriously, first the whole family and now you…”

“Benedict mentioned you don’t believe in love,” she said. “I think you’re wrong.”

“The feeling is mutual Charlotte.”

“Lottie,” she corrected you and you nodded.

“Lottie,” you repeated and paused before stealing a look at her. “So you and Ben—uh, Mr. Bridgerton? Are the rumors true?”

“Mm, he mentioned that too,” she said and scoffed a laugh, then shook her head. “I do not understand why everyone assumes that. We’re close friends.”

Your heart skipped a beat, making you frown and you sat up straighter.

“Anyone else then?”

“I don’t have as many suitors,” she said and shrugged her shoulders, making your stomach flip, guilt seeping through you.

“I swear to you, you’re not missing out on anything,” you tried to console her. “Aside from a terrible headache, because—”

You stopped talking as soon as your eyes caught the sight of Kitty seeming to be in a deep conversation with Benedict. She let out a clear laugh, batting her lashes at him and you narrowed your eyes, a strange, bitter taste appearing at your throat.

“She has been trying to get his attention for weeks now,” Charlotte’s voice made you turn your head and you gritted your teeth, then cleared your throat.

"Oh I didn’t…” you trailed off. “I wasn’t looking at them.”

“No?” she asked and you shook your head vehemently.

“I don’t care who tries to get whose attention,” you said. “Godspeed. Or whatever they say.”

Charlotte gave you a bright smile and opened her mouth but before she could say anything, another voice cut through hers.

“Miss Y/N, good afternoon.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, then took a deep breath and turned to the man who was standing by the gazebo’s entrance.

“My lord?” you greeted him like a question and he bowed.

“Lord Shaw,” he introduced himself. “I was wondering if you would like to promenade with me.”

You would have liked nothing more than saying no, but you knew you could not. You were a debutante and any direct rude comment would affect your uncle and aunt so you took a deep breath and nodded.

“Of course,” you said and shot Charlotte a smile. “Thank you for the snacks and entertaining conversation Lottie.”

“Anytime,” she said sweetly and you stood up from the bench, Benedict’s head whipping around immediately as if he had just realized you were in fact in the park, which considering how hard you had been trying to get away from the crowd, wouldn’t have been a shock. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Kitty frowning upon the sudden disruption in their conversation but you forced yourself to keep your gaze on Lord Shaw.

“After you my lady,” he said as he took a step back and you bit inside your cheek.

“Thank you,” you said and walked out of the gazebo with Lord Shaw beside you, still feeling Benedict’s gaze on you.

“Are you alright my lady?”

Your head snapped up and you let out a breath, then nodded.

“Yes,” you said. “I’m not good with warm weather, that’s all.”

He shot you a grin. “I would not expect anything less from the ice queen.”

You had to remind yourself not to make a face even if it felt nearly painful to keep yourself from doing so, then you cleared your throat before taking a deep breath.

“Yes,” you murmured. “Yes, neither would I.”

Chapter 6

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[lesbiansforangusmcdonald]

Ok, finals are over, so now I can FINALLY post my Pepe Sylvia theory about Porter actually being evil that has been ruminating in my head ever since I saw season 2! (spoilers for s2 of fantasy high, obviously)

(sorry if someone’s talked about it before and I couldn’t find it, but like WE NEED TO DISCUSS THIS BEFORE S3!)

Ok, so I noticed something when Ragh talked about the first time he saw Kalina in episode 4 of season 2 (“Heartache on the Celestine Sea”). He says that he saw Jace talking to some elven woman (who is revealed to be Adaine’s mom, Arianwen) and to “someone he couldn’t see. I just assumed somebody was invisible.” This is most likely Kalina, as Arianwen was there to get the Nightmare King’s crown and Kalina could have been helping her do that. However, this is important because, since Ragh could obviously see Kalina later on, this is a point in time when he couldn’t see Kalina.

Then Ragh says that after he saw that, Jace and Porter came to talk to him, and “Porter did some barbarian healing with me.” This seems normal enough, as Ragh had just been in a huge fight, but Ragh stipulates that “I didn’t feel that injured, honestly.” So this line already makes it seem as though Porter may have had some ulterior motive for healing Ragh.

Then, Ragh says that as he was walking home after this, he was approached by Kalina, who threatened to kill his mom if he said anything about seeing Arianwen at the school.

(the clip of the scene is here, if you wanna watch it, edited slightly for clarity)

So this makes me think that Jace and Porter knew Ragh saw Arianwen at the school, knew he would probably tell the Bad Kids about it, and Porter intentionally passed Kalina to Ragh through healing in order to ensure his silence.

AND if you’re thinking this may be a bit far-fetched, I’ll remind you that Landren Leir, the cleric of the unnamed goddess who infiltrated the elven Galicaean church after the fall of the unnamed goddess, also passed on Kalina via healing of the high-elven clergy, which she was then murdered for.

But in order to pass it on to Ragh at all, Porter must have been infected with Kalina as well, so here are some of my theories of what that could mean;

1. Porter had no idea he was infected and was just trying to heal a student.

I mean, totally possible, right? From most of the other angles, Porter seems like a decent guy; he supports Fig in barbarian class, he’s part of a community at his local gym, and he did get sucked into a palimpsest when Kalvaxis/Goldenhoard was trying to take over the school — why would that happen if Porter wouldn’t have been opposed to what Kalvaxis/Goldenhoard was doing? And there are plenty of people who are infected with Kalina and never show any symptoms, and therefore never know. It could have been totally innocent. BUT it’s just a little too convenient, isn’t it? Ragh sees Arianwen at the school, and then right after he’s “randomly” infected with Kalina? It just doesn’t seem like a coincidence.

2. Porter knew he was passing Kalina onto Ragh, but wasn’t aware of the full plot to steal the Nightmare King’s crown.

I mean, also possible, right? Maybe Jace put Porter up to it, maybe he knew more than Porter did about the whole situation? Porter wasn’t initially mentioned as talking to Arianwen, maybe Jace just manipulated Porter because he knew that Ragh would trust Porter as his teacher. BUT I think that it would be kind of weird for Porter to be in the school, be infected, be around all of these other people who are in on this wider plot, but they don’t get him involved. Maybe they thought he wouldn’t go for it, thought he was too nice, but I’m not sure. I mean, I think this theory has more merit than the first one, like it’s possible, just would be a little weird.

3. Porter was in on the plot to bring back the Nightmare King.

I mean. Like I know this may not be another Loose Duke situation. But it’s possible! Like, he’s in the right positions! He works at the school. He has the trust of some of the bad kids. He didn’t openly support Kalvaxis or anything he did. Maybe their larger organization (which they do hint that there are more people throughout the world that want to bring back the nightmare king throughout the campaign) thought that he should lay low and hold onto the trust of the bad kids, just wait until the right time to strike. Again, the fact that he would knowingly put a student, one of HIS barbarian students, in such serious danger, in order to protect the larger interest of bringing back the Nightmare King, does not stack up well against him.

So, do I think that Porter will end up being the big bad of season 3, or even the elusive season 4? No, probably not. BUT I do think that he’s sus as fuck and we need to stay on our toes, because he could turn out to be more of a threat with the right opportunities.

#I’m still WILDING over this tiny find #because like !?!?!? WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN BRENNAN?!? #is this another loose duke situation or are you just fucking with us? #it’s driving me nuts I hope we get some clarity one way or the other #fantasy high #fh #fantasy high sophomore year #fantasy high junior year #fhsy #fhjy #d20 #dimension 20 #dimension twenty #Porter #d20 ​porter #fh theory #emily axford #brennan lee mulligan

[blueshistorysims]

June 1922, Henford-on-Bagley, England

Dearest sister, 

I know you are tired of my constant complaining… but there are few people I can complain to, and unfortunately for you, you are one of them. I had never realized there was so much to do as a peer. I can sense resentment from the tenants of the Feldsbury lands. Parliament is so boring, and most of them don’t like me, considering I one, married a colored woman, and two, I am part of the Labour Party. Not that I care, but I am snubbed often at places where my title is of great prestige. To quote one of the earls, I am ‘a disgrace to the memory of the late Duke and should be ashamed as such.’ What a pity.

Stella is in London again if you and Francesca wish to invite her to dinner, or at least stop by and visit. And before you say wasn’t she in London two weeks ago, well, she is there again. I rarely see her. We were on track to fix everything, and then the bloody old man had to croak. Now we are strangers again in a life neither of us chose. 

We have finally been invited by our neighbors for dinner on Friday, so she will be returning for that. It’s bloody Mungroves. I don’t think I ever told you, but I was friends with their son in boarding school and I spent a summer there.

Joel Mungrove was… let’s just say the first person I developed feelings of a non-platonic nature for. Turned out he was a right cunt, for lack of better words. But the hilarious part of it all, is that neither Sir Francis Mungrove nor Lady Mungrove recognize me. I am delighted to embarrass them during dinner. 

Your brother, Byron

“Lovely house,” Stella muttered.

“The first girl I ever kissed was their daughter,” he mumbled under his breath.

She smirked. “Anything else?”

“Shhh,” he hissed, looking around. “...I felt her up as she… you know…” he wavered off, making a motion with his hand.

Stella laughed, and he smiled. He hadn’t seen her laugh in a while.  

“The Duke and Duchess of Feldsbury,” the butler announced as the Mungroves entered the main hall. 

“It is an honor to finally have you for dinner,” Lady Mungrove said, smiling kindly. 

She and her husband looked so much older than the last time he’d seen them, over thirteen years ago. He smiled politely and gestured to his wife, whom he noted Sir Francis was not making eye contact with.

“My wife is quite eager to see your dining room.”

Stella nodded. While she loathed it, she played of Duchess well. “The Duke has told me how beautiful it is.”

Sir Francis cocked a brow. “You seen it before?”

“Yes, I dinned here when I was a boy.” He grinned like a shark.

“It really is you!” A voice exclaimed from the stairwell, and there he saw Wilhelmina coming down with a man he thought looked familiar. “You’ve gotten so tall. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I’d read that you were Feldsbury's heir.”

He laughed. “I could say the same to you,” he greeted as she kissed his cheek.

Her parents looked bewildered. 

Wilhelmina gestured to the man next to her. “I’m sorry. This is my husband Jack Porter.”

“The poet?”

He nodded. “Yes, Duke.”

Byron was impressed. Stella looked much more interested than she had moments prior. 

“You know our daughter?” Lady Mungrove stammered.

Wilhelmina stared at her mother. “Mother, his grace was Joel’s friend he brought here in the summer of 1909.”

Color flooded the cheeks of the couple as Stella bit her lip to hide a smirk. 

During dinner, Byron learned that Joel was dead, having perished in the war. Sir Francis and Lady Mungrove were mostly quiet during the affair, likely from the embarrassment of earlier. Seeing them so uneasy made his evening entirely worth it. 

Afterward, he and Wilhelmina went to the balcony, reminding him of the many conversations they’d had in their youth. Jack was keen to show Stella the house, asking questions about the jazz scene in Harlem. 

“You know,” she began, “When I read that you married your wife and you were heir to the Duke of Feldsbury, I laughed. Of course the dukedom was our neighbor.”

“I wasn’t even aware back then. Are you happy with Mr. Porter?”

“Yes. He knows the real London social scene, and he makes me happy. I love him dearly. What of you and the duchess?”

He frowned. “The title has put a tremendous strain on marriage if I will be truthful. The only person who hates it more than I is her. I rarely see her.” He sighed.  “I confess, Wilhelmina, I don’t think our relationship will thrive if I do not leave Henford.”

She sat next to him. “I am sorry, Byron.”

“I didn’t tell her I was heir to a dukedom until after we eloped. She resents me for that. I don’t blame her.”

“Well, Jack and I live in London if she is in ever need of friends.”

“What she wants is to be around people like her, in a community where she doesn’t have to be someone else. That community is in New York.”

Wilhelmina nodded. “...My parents weren’t truthful about Joel’s death.”

“What?”

“I think you should know the truth. He did die during the war years, but not on the battlefield. He was severely injured and disfigured after a mustard gas attack. My mother couldn’t even look at him unless he was in bandages or wore a mask. It was hard to look at him. He couldn’t take it, so he killed himself.”

Byron sat there quietly. “My God.”

#the walshes #the walsh legacy #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 decades #sims 4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 historical #tw suicide mention #ts4 decades challenge #1920s #ts4 1920s #bit of a rollercoaster whoops #tw racism #stella gardenhouse #byron walsh

[themultifandomgal]

Mark Sloan- Try Again Pt2

“What’s going on?” Mark says walking into the room where I’m about to have an ultrasound

“I might be miscarrying” I tell Mark as Callie holds my hand in hers and Mer holds my other hand

“You're not miscarrying” Lucy replies

“Well then it’s an ectopic….”

“It’s not a molar pregnancy is it?” Mark asks making me worried

“Why don’t you let me have a look and we can figure out what’s going on”

“Who are you first and what are your credentials?”

“Lucy Fields, Harvard MD, Duke 0BGYN resident now a Maternal-Foetal Medicine fellow at Seattle Grace Mercy West. Damn good at my job. Who the hell are you”

“For god sake just stick the thing in me and tell me the bad news”

“Everything’s going to be ok” Callie says squeezing my hand.

Lucy turns the screen towards us

“There’s your baby, there’s the yolk sac. Everything looks good. Your still to early on to hear a heartbeat, but at your next appointment you will be able to”

“But the bleeding?”

“Your a doctor, you should know that many woman experience spotting early on in their pregnancy, it doesn’t mean they’re having a miscarriage, however better to be safe than sorry. I’ll go and get that appointment arranged while you get changed”

“Thank you” I smile at Lucy as she leaves

“Here let me help you”

“I’m capable of getting off a bed Mark” I comment

“Sorry, just want to help”

“I know I’m sorry I’m just cranky today”

“I’m gonna give you two some time to talk”

“Thanks for coming with me Callie”

“That’s what friends are for” Callie smiles at me before leaving the room

“I’ve got to go. Everything’s fine in there and I can’t wait to have a niece or nephew” Mer says placing a kiss on my forehead. I watch her leave and then go to try and untie the back of the gown but I can’t seem to undo the knot

“Can you erm…” I ask turning around so my back is facing mark

“Oh yeah sure” I feel his hands undoing the knot

“I feel like Im having dejavu” I joke back to what got us into this predicament making Mark laugh

“Just this time I’m undressing you for a different reason. There” I turn back around to face Mark. We look into each other’s eyes, as if we’re having a moment, but before anything could happen I clear my throat

“I erm need to get changed”

“Oh right yeah. Erm I’ll just, I’ll go” Mark leaves the room letting me get dressed. What am I doing? I’ve already let Mark back in once and look how that’s ended up? Granted he’s always going to be in my life now.

I finish getting dresses and leave the room where Mark is still stood outside of

“I thought you would have go back to work by now?”

“Are you ok?” He asks

“I erm…”

“And don’t lie. I know you” tears starts to threaten to spill

“When I saw the blood this morning I was so scared. I’ve always wanted to be a mom and after we broke up I thought I’d never get the chance. I just couldn’t stop thinking the worst, like if I lost this baby, I don’t know what I would do. It’s not like I have a partner i could try again with and…”

“Ok woah slow down. Come here” Mark pulls me into his chest “shhhh” he strokes my hair “we’re fine. Everything’s fine. Come on let’s go grab something to eat”

“Ok” I sniffle

“Anything you fancy?”

“Baby would quite like a pizza with fries”

“Hmm they would would they?” Mark laughs. He goes to pull away

“Wait, I’m not ready to let you go yet. Just, hold me for a little longer”

“Of course. I’ll hold you for as long as you need.

#grays anatomy #mark sloan x yn #mark sloan x reader #mark sloan #mark sloan imagine

[creative-frequency]

Raphael x Reader: Act I: The Bargain

Summary: Bloody and bruised from the nautiloid ship crash, forging a contract with a devil becomes your best and only option for survival. This is the first flashback oneshot for the main story of the series. The poem is The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Word count: 2197 Notes: Dealing with a devil, canon-typical blood and injury.

My writing masterlist

Bottles of Ithbank and mugs of red ale rose up to meet the bright stars embroidered into the velvety midnight sky. Comforting and familiar voices of laughter and cheer bubbled around you. It was a night to remember, reminisce and celebrate. In destroying the Absolute you had faced the impossible and lived on to tell the tale. You had gained allies and most importantly, you had met people, who you proudly called your friends.

Deep in thought, you fiddled with the ring on your left hand’s ring finger. A vexing lark from the gift giver, as the ring would fit no other digit. You had bet your soul on never removing the stupid piece of jewellery, at the same time dooming yourself to the eternity of answering delighted queries about a presumed marriage.

Every time you took a sigh to explain you were, in fact, not married, you heard the devil over your shoulder laugh somewhere deep in the Hells. Out of sheer spite, you wished you could hate him. But he had given you this life and this victory, so you endured.

Wyll, the freshly appointed Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, sat next to you by the large table and noticed you twiddling with the ring.

“So. Do you know what became of Raphael?” he asked cautiously and nodded towards your hands.

You shrugged, not exactly keen on discussing the devil even though the wine had already spun your mind into a pleasant, relaxing buzz. You had been prepared to answer this particular question during the course of the evening and it was no shock Wyll was the one to voice it. You had met with Wyll from time to time after your travels together, but had always avoided the subject. Luckily the Grand Duke was a busy man. 

“I guess your pact still stands then. I’m sorry,” Wyll said and took a swig from his goblet.

“Don’t be,” you corrected him and opened your mouth to justify why, but Wyll just looked at you with compassion.

He was the only one of your companions who truly knew what you had been through since he had made the same choice – albeit your reasons were initially more selfish than his. The only difference was that he had found a way to outwit his devil patron to get out of his pact. The Duke Ravengard still had horns, but no longer even a tiny bit of the infernal power of a warlock was coursing through his veins.

Wyll changed the subject: “It feels like the whole thing happened in another life.” 

“It really does,” you sighed and raised the bottle to your lips again.

“I’m glad you decided to stay in Baldur’s Gate, though.”

“Don’t say anything about being a hero, please,” you exclaimed and Wyll grinned. You couldn’t help but grin right back at him.

“I wasn’t going to,” he assured you.

“I’m done playing the hero for now. I need time to put my feet up” – you lifted your boots and planted them on the table – “and enjoy just being alive.”

Wyll shot you a humorous look, but decided against noting how the heroics usually had happened when you had tried to avoid those situations the most.

Six months earlier

Hidden behind wreckage, you dared to inhale a shallow breath and barely held back a cough. Unknown parts of the nautiloid ship and horrifying, giant flesh pods laid scattered and broken around you. Their colourful liquids were mixed on the ground into sickening pools. There was a reek of burning something you didn’t want to think about and it made breathing even harder.

A couple of your ribs were likely broken from being thrown around by the impact from  exploding tubes. It had not been one of your finest moments or the best aimed fire bolt, but at least you had lost the pursuers, for now.

You prayed to every known god and goddess under your breath. You had survived the nautiloid crash and found yourself alone again amidst the debris – only to be attacked by a group of pathetic, random looters. It was five against one and you didn’t even have a weapon on you. It would’ve been a tough fight on a good day, but you were seriously injured, bleeding and delirious from the environmental hazards affecting your senses. So you had attempted to cause as much chaos as you could to hide.

If you had thought getting taken by mind flayers was bad enough, it had been pure downhill since then. The inevitability of this one becoming your last adventure started to settle in.

You sat on the broken floor, leaning into a crevice in the debris and listened to any voices. The looter group was not far, but unfortunately they were not foolish enough to make noise as they were tracking you down. You had maybe minutes to live and there was literally nothing you could have done about it.

So you prayed. Incoherent words tumbled from your mouth under your broken breaths.

You would give anything for the power to smite those pathetic thiefs.

Anything for the power and means to save yourself from the predicament.

You closed your eyes and focused on listening to the approaching final moments of your existence.

Anything to live and die on another day.

A soft step. Then another. Your pulse surged. Someone was coming, but nothing about him was what you had expected.

A man you would have eagerly described as mysterious and handsome walked towards you. His steps were leisurely, his pace unhurried and his expression tinged with curiosity.

Maybe some poison gas had finally addled your mind and you were seeing things.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—” he recited carefully with graceful cadence, pacing closer.

A poem? So you were either dead or poisoned. Your head lolled to the side, trying to see his face clearly in the midst of the smoke and floating embers.

“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.” His voice was smooth, almost drawling. It sent a warm shiver down your back. His hands motioned in rhythm with the words.

The stranger paused right in front of you and continued: “’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door—”

He leaned down to have a closer look at you and his expression turned unreadable. His eyes were chestnut brown, cunning and framed by dark lashes. The high cheekbones were tinged with healthy red.

“Only this and nothing more,” he ended the verse with a contemplative note.

You blinked in confusion, openly staring and wondering could he have been one of the looters, because he certainly didn’t look like one. His clothes were fancy: a blue doublet, ornamented with gold trimmings and a frilly collar. His brown hair was combed back and waves of light curls gathered behind his ears.

Maybe you had gone mad or lost consciousness already.

“Are you really here?” you asked in a shaky voice.

“Is that not why you were rapping at my door?” he returned the question.

Delirious from the smoke and blood loss, you couldn’t understand what he meant.

“Please, you have to help me…” you pleaded, still unsure if the man really even existed.

“Wouldn’t you rather help yourself?” he remarked, tapping his chin in calculating thought. His gaze was evaluating you.

“What? I don’t…” you spluttered with desperation.

“Come.”

He took your hand and pulled you up from the floor. His touch was almost burning, or maybe your hands were just that cold from the loss of blood. A consuming inferno of bright flames swallowed you both and instantly you reappeared in an entirely different place.

The warm air and the general, faint smell of fire and sulphur ravaged your senses. Avernus.

“The House of Hope. Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed,” the stranger presented dramatically with a flourish motion of his arms – an invitation for you to look around at all the lavish glamour. Paintings of devils hung on the walls and the large fireplace was lit with the most mesmerising, hungry fire you had ever seen. A massive table right next to you was loaded with mouth-watering delicacies and you were overwhelmingly reminded how hungry and weak you were.

Your legs were shaking and every muscle in your body ached, resisting the notion of staying up on your feet. Every breath now made your lungs sizzle, the air burning on its way inside.

“So you’re a devil?” you asked feebly.

The stranger crooked a smile at your quick wit and answered: “Raphael. Very much at your service.”

A devil – out of all the names of the gods you had taken in vain, this was the one to save you. The irony stung deep.

“Forgive me that I don’t drop a curtsy. I’m feeling so…” you fumbled to find the proper word and focused your energy on staying on your feet. You glanced down and realised that you had already smudged the floor with blood and dirt.

Raphael noticed the stains too and snapped his fingers.

Immediately, you felt better and stopped gripping the table edge, knuckles white. Air poured effortlessly into your lungs without any pain and although shaky, you felt that you could stand properly. Your posture eased.

“Oh, thank you,” you murmured in surprise, but at the same time your pulse started quickening. As little as you knew of devils, you knew for a fact that they didn’t give anything for free.

“You’re welcome.” Raphael bowed lightly and pulled a chair for you.

“Please, sit, partake. You and I have much to discuss,” he mused and when you were comfortably seated, he circled around to the other side of the table.

Now healed, you were positively ravenous. You hesitated only a second before starting to fill your plate with pork sausages and honey-sauteed vegetables. Raphael’s crooked smile deepened, but he only watched, evaluating.

“How did you find me?” you asked, when the silence began feeling too oppressive.

Raphael tilted his head to the side, gauging your refreshingly lame reaction to the revelation of his nature. He replied: “That delicious life or death predicament you were in did the knocking, but you, my dear, were the one to push the door open.”

You swallowed a mouthful of food. “I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.”

Raphael hid his smile, which felt even worse than seeing it widen. He leaned over the table on his elbows, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

“Oh, but you did. You wanted to survive. You craved the power to burn those insignificant worms,” he explained with an intensive look in his eyes. Then he leaned back in his seat and continued: “Unless, you’re saying there has been a mistake? I can send you back with an apology.”

“No!” you interjected.

The devil’s eyes glinted. With a nonchalant wave of his hand, a piece of parchment manifested into the air. Red letters in the language of the Hells were seared on the surface. A quill hovered next to it.

Your pulse quickened again as comprehension snaked its tendrils around you: You had prayed to give anything to save yourself. Anything, including your very soul as if it were a mere trinket to be traded off. But, what else was it in this transaction between life and death? You would lose both your life and soul, if you didn’t take the deal. A soul didn’t do much good for you if you were dead already.

“Tell me, what is your name, mortal?” Raphael asked.

“Tav.”

“Well then, Tav. Let’s bargain,” said the devil in the most complacent tone you had ever heard. “I can grant you the ability to manifest my power. The power to tear through your enemies, to guile the unworthy and cull the weak – the power to survive.”

You set the utensils down and drew in a shaky breath. “You want my soul?”

Raphael cocked a brow, entertained, and leaned over the table, closer to you. He said: “Lest you have something else to offer for your salvation, but I promise you this: I take good care of my clients.”

You stared right into the chestnut brown eyes of the human facade of the devil, who was after your very soul.

And nodded slowly.

“I accept,” you said simply, forcing your tone even. “We can go over the details after I’ve killed the fuckers.”

The devil barked a laugh.

“Excellent.”

You signed off the contract for your soul. It would take a long time until the gravity of what you had just done would settle in. In the meanwhile, you would enjoy the patronage of Raphael and the benefits of the warlock pact.

In a swirl of flames, you were returned to the wreck of the nautiloid ship, right at the feet of the looting mob.

“She’s here!”

“Indeed I am,” you snarled as infernal energy crackled and surged on your palm.

There would be only cinders left when you were through with them.

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