#I JUST WISH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I COULD BE WITH HER FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!FOR ETERNITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[lightupthemoon]

Maroon

Summary: You wished it could have lasted an eternity, and that made you ignore the signs. You knew it that night, when

she kissed you for the first time, and you knew it every night she looked into your eyes and told

you her deepest, darkest secrets. You knew you represented everything she had never wanted.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader

Warnings: None, this is just angst.

Word Count: 4 K

Read on AO3

Author’s Note:

*tap tap* is this thing on? Well, hello! It's been a long, long time! Honestly, writer's block is a real thing, especially when you have two jobs and not enough time to daydream. Regardless, I made a promise to my friend @ittynyte, who made the awesome art for this, that I would write this for her birthday. It took me a year, but I delivered. Better late than never, right? I hope you enjoy it!

The light slipping through the curtains seemed rather blinding that morning. Perhaps it was the building headache that drilled through your brain. Maybe the ache that made itself present in your chest with every breath you took. You groaned, hating it.

You dragged yourself out of bed, the opposite side as empty as it had been the last couple of weeks. You tried not to look at it. You still couldn’t get used to the emptiness, even with time passing by.

Your freshly made black coffee alleviated the headache, but the deafening silence of your apartment only made you travel to simpler times. Your gaze fell into the wine-stained carpet that you had neglected to throw out and the incense marks left on the dark wood of your coffee table.

Even if you didn’t intend to, you could still picture it as clearly as it had happened yesterday.

“Okay, weirdos, I’m retiring to bed,” Cassie proclaimed, getting up from the couch despite the growing protests coming from the floor, where you and Kate sat. She had her back against the opposite loveseat, your feet on her lap while you used the cushions as pillows on the floor, both tipsy.

“Cass, it’s only–” Kate started, lifting her wrist to her face to see the hour, squinting her eyes. “Oh, crap. It’s 4 a.m.”

“Exactly.” Cassie retorted, grabbing her phone and her blanket from the couch she was on. “Some of us actually do want to sleep, okay?”

“Party pooper.” You said, matter-of-factly. Cassie only rolled her eyes, throwing a kiss in your direction.

“Don’t finish my wine!”

You and Kate made a similar sound in response, before looking at each other and exploding into giggles.

It wasn’t often that you spent time with Kate. Between your jobs, school, and her multiple sports practices, it was hard to hang out. And it was a shame, really, because you did enjoy Kate’s company. She was funny, and not bad to look at. She was brilliant, too, but not in a way that made you feel less than. No, her brilliance was something that not a lot of people gave her credit for. It was in the way she spoke so eloquently about the things she was passionate about. Like in that moment, starting a rant on why vinyl records were a much better way to capture audio than any other. You could have listened to her forever, go on about how listening to records was an immersive physical experience that simply could never be replicated. Almost like that moment, too.

“Simply the quality of the audio should be enough to choose vinyl!” Kate continued saying.  

“Streaming is more convenient, though,” you replied with a mischievous grin. “I can only press play on a silly little app on my phone and listen.”

Kate rolled her eyes, the tiniest of smiles drawn on her lips, pushing your feet off her lap to get up. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Where do you think you are going?” You asked, faking offense. “See? You can’t even defend your argument.”

“Shut up, I’m getting more wine,” Kate said, picking up your glass from the coffee table.

The bottle of red wine that Cassie left opened on the counter was already half-empty, and it wasn’t your first. You watched as Kate poured the wine into the glasses, a curl of long black hair falling into her perfectly sculptured face as she did so. You allowed yourself this momentary silence to admire her, from the curve of her nose to the shape of her lips. You never wonder why half the world seemed to be enthralled in that woman—you had experienced it firsthand, every time she was around. The light in her smile was enough to leave anyone breathless. However, you were aware that Kate Bishop was not the kind of person who would ever find it within herself to settle down. If anything, adrenaline was her lover, and danger was her spouse. Anything that kept her away from those things was merely a distraction.

You never let yourself daydream about her. But you would occasionally indulge in her beauty.

“I can prove it to you,” you heard Kate say as she returned to the living room, placing both glasses on the coffee table. She walked toward the TV stand, where Cassie kept all of her records, which had originally prompted the conversation. She kneeled in front of them, lightly brushing the spine of the covers as she lowly murmured the names on them to herself. After a little while, a small ‘aha’ escaped Kate’s lips, pulling a record.

“Katherine,” you called her in a whisper-yell. “Cassie literally just went to sleep.”

Kate scoffed, not even bothering to look your way as she pulled the record from its case and placed it as carefully as possible on the record player. “Please, she’s probably knocked out by now. She won’t hear us.”

You shook your head in disapproval, reaching for your wine glass, with a faint smile dancing on your lips. The soft sound of a male voice, accompanied by a soft bassline and high hats in the background started filling the room. You watched Kate smile satisfied as you took a sip of your wine, the dryness reminding you why you actually preferred the cheap rosé Cassie liked. She hummed along to the music, swaying side to side a bit as she walked toward you.

“Do you hear that? How clear every instrument is?” Kate said with a grin. “You can’t tell me you get that from Apple Music.”

“Who do you think I am?” You replied, the laugh present in your voice. “I use Spotify, doofus.”

“Even worse.” Kate sighed, grabbing her wine and extending her free hand in your direction.

You arched your eyebrows, skeptical. “Hello to you too?”

The brunette rolled her eyes, but her hand never faltered. “Dance with me.”

The question took you by surprise, but not more than your own hand moving forward to take hers without even thinking about it. She pulled you off the couch, spilling a bit of wine onto the carpet. You would have winced at it on any other occasion, but you had no mental capacity for anything other than Kate. She flushed your body to hers, her hand leaving yours to rest on your waist, yours finding its way to her shoulder while the swaying continued.  

“How is dancing going to prove your point?” You managed to say, thankful your voice didn’t register the sudden anxiety that started filling your body.

Kate shrugged, sipping at her wine. The glint in her eyes made them seem even bluer, an endless sea full of wonder. “It just felt like a good idea.”

A huff escaped you, unable to stop the smile on your lips because, of course, Kate would say that. You heard her start humming the song again, her head moving slightly side to side in the same motion the both of you did. There was something in the air, unspoken, lingering, and you were far too nervous to speak. You weren’t sure you would have been able to if you tried. The smile didn’t leave your lips, and she never took her eyes off yours.

A good minute into the song, she looked at you with an arched brow, mischief written all over her face. “Do you feel it yet?”

“What?”

“The music in your veins.”

You rolled your eyes, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t feeling… something. She didn’t have to know that, though. “It feels the same to me.”

Fond exasperation exuded from Kate, pressing her forehead to your shoulder in what was seemingly a move of defeat. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t do this to me.” For some reason, your heart fluttered at the sound of your name. “It’s like–” Kate started, pulling back to look at you again. “It’s like when you kiss someone you have been wanting to kiss for a long time. Everything feels like there’s a show of fireworks exploding inside you.” You saw the question in her gaze as she brought her glass up to her lips. “Do you know that feeling?”

You scrunched up your nose. “Honestly?” You shook your head, looking at the floor. “I don’t think anyone has ever made me feel like that.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, her movements so fast that the glass of wine she held in her hands slipped, just enough to get some of it on your shirt. You gasped at the cold liquid sticking your shirt to your skin, while Kate cursed under her breath, moving her glass as far away from you as she could.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed. “I was just not expecting that. Lemme just—”

Kate hurriedly grabbed the glass from your hands, and placed both cups back on the table, before attempting to head back into the kitchen to get something to clean you up. Nevertheless, you grabbed her hand at the last minute, already missing the heat of her body next to yours. She looked back at you, confused.

“The song isn’t over, Bishop.”

The faintest shade of surprise shadowed her features, but she returned to where she had previously been, her hands firmly holding your waist. You weren’t entirely sure if the goosebumps you felt were caused by her firm grip, or the cold liquid still rolling down your skin. But somewhere deep within you, you knew you would hate yourself forever if you broke the moment. If you left whatever this was slip through your fingers.

Absentmindedly, you wrapped your arms around her neck, and that seemed to bring Kate out of whichever trance she was in.

“That is a nice shirt I just ruined,” Kate muttered, still looking apologetic, and unable to contain the scarlet creeping across her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“What, this old thing?” You said, resting its importance. “I was going to throw it out soon, anyways.” A smirk appeared on your face. “Besides, I’ll say it was well worth it to see the almighty Katherine Elizabeth Bishop blushing up a storm.”

Kate shook her head in disapproval, the confidence returning to sapphire blue. “Yes, well, in my defense, it was half your fault. How are you going to reveal something like that and expect me not to react?”

“I honestly don’t see what’s the big deal.”

“It’s just–” Kate sighed. “The type of thing everyone should experience at least once.”

The air felt thicker, for some reason. “Explain it to me, then. How does that feel?”

 “Well,” she started, her voice now softer. “The moment right before it, there’s something in the air. Almost tangible, like electricity.” You didn’t miss the glint in her eyes, nor the glance she gave at your lips before licking her own. “You become very aware of your surroundings, of the feeling of warmth around you.”  You were not sure if you were just imagining things, but the gap between you just seemed smaller. “And your skin tingles, wondering if it is everything you’ve always thought it’d be.”

You didn’t know why, but you closed your eyes. You never let yourself daydream about her, but it would be a lie to say you said you never wondered what it would be like to kiss her. “And then what happens?”

“Fireworks.”

You hated to admit it, but she was right. After Kate pressed her soft lips against your own, the fireworks appeared. You couldn’t even describe how you felt after that night, but you were sure your life had been turned upside down.

You tried to play it off as a drunken spur-of-the-moment at first. Getting drunk and making out with your friends was part of the college experience, after all. Nevertheless, that kiss was the first of many to follow, all of them in secret, each hungrier than the one before. Kate Bishop became a constant in your life after that night, as if she was on a mission to help you find that spark you had been missing. And you found it, time and time again, in urgent kisses and impatient brushes of skin. On marks left in your collarbones; in the sound of your name escaping her mouth when you touched her where she needed you most. She was your drug, and you were at her mercy.

You wished it could have lasted an eternity, and that made you ignore the signs. Despite spending almost every night in your bed, it was rare for you to see her outside the four walls of your apartment. Despite knowing the sounds she made when she reached the highest point of ecstasy, you had never held her hand in public. And despite all your friends knowing about your arrangement, she never dared to bring it up to any of them. What you had existed in the shadows, far away from everyone’s reach.

Even your own. 

Your phone chimed on the counter, a steady stream of messages appearing on the screen. Exhaling heavily, you picked it up, finally opening the thread you had been ignoring for a few days. Your friend group chat kept going off, probably for the finishing touches of the farewell party they were throwing over the weekend. Cassie, America, and Kate were heading west, leaving their entire lives behind to follow their dreams. They had even asked Peter to go with them, to make it a bit easier to start a new life surrounded by friends. The boy, however, had decided to stay home in New York, saying how he couldn’t even imagine his life without MJ with no hint of hesitation in his voice. As happy as you were for your friend, you couldn’t say that it didn’t hurt that Kate couldn’t even look at you when he said that.

Now, you weren’t naïve, you always knew where this was headed. You knew it that night, when she kissed you for the first time, and you knew it every night she looked into your eyes and told you her deepest, darkest secrets. You knew you represented everything she had never wanted. Even if, at times, it seemed like what you had could be something she wanted, she had a plan that she wouldn’t let go of. Kate Bishop would never give up a life of adrenaline and danger for a quiet life with you.

Despite knowing that, it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

It hurt when she told you she was leaving. It hurt when she never asked you to go with her. It hurt that she wanted to keep you until she was no longer there.

Your phone chimed again, vibrating in your hand and snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen just in time to see your name appear in the chat.

Cassie – Y/N, are you coming to the party?

America – Of course she’s coming. She’s not letting us go before saying goodbye.

America – Right, bestie?

Peter – Yeah, Y/N, it will be so much fun! We can bully them for leaving us behind!

You sighed, your fingers hovering on the screen as you thought of a reply. As far as they were concerned, not showing up to their party would have been the highest of treasons. They were your best friends in the world, how could you possibly miss it? But if you were honest with yourself, you were not up to it, especially knowing Kate would be there. You had successfully avoided her since calling off the agreement and you had no intention of seeing her before she left.

If she wanted to pretend it had meant nothing, you could do that too.

You – Sorry, guys, working ☹ But have fun, and swing by before leaving! <3

You rolled your eyes as you added a kissy emoji at the end but sent the text anyway. It was immediately seen by three out of the six people in the group, followed by a new stream of reactions and replies that you didn’t have the willpower to pay attention to. You turned on ‘do not disturb’ and placed the phone face down on the counter, before heading into the living room to find a distraction on TV.

---

After many hours of watching several episodes of your comfort show, a loud knock on the front door startled you. You stared at the door with narrowed eyes for a moment, unsure if it had really happened or if you had just imagined the sound. As much as Cassie and America loved you, they had been so wrapped up in their move you could not imagine they would show up at your door, despite your earlier text. Another knock followed, more impatient this time.

“Coming!” You yelled, throwing the blanket off your body and getting up from the couch with a groan.

Whoever was behind the door didn’t insist, giving you enough time to pick up some food wrappers off the coffee table and throwing them in the trash. After running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to make it look better than it did from a whole day of lounging in the living room, you pulled the door open, your heart dropping to the floor the moment you saw who was disturbing your peace.

Kate Bishop, in the flesh, blue eyes shinier than ever.

You contained the desire to slam the door in her face. You just wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

You rolled your lips, standing as tall as your frame allowed you, your chin slightly tipped upward.

“What are you doing here?”

Kate gave you one of her characteristic smirks, shrugging nonchalantly as if this was just another casual meeting. It infuriated you.

“You said to swing by before leaving, so…” She dragged the final ‘o’, her voice causing a disturbance within you that you weren’t sure how to describe.

You rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t meant for you, so!” You exclaimed, attempting to close the front door before she stopped it with her foot.

“Come on, Y/N, I just want to talk.” Kate replied, her voice now sounding more serious. “I brought a peace offering.”

Reluctantly, you flung the door open again, setting your gaze on the bouquet of flowers she was holding, pressed to her classic purple sweatshirt. Her smirk turned into a dashing smile, and you hated your heart for reacting at the mere sight of her.

“You said they were your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped you.

“Those are carnations,” you said, the tone of disbelief apparent in your voice.

Kate furrowed her eyebrows, bewildered. “They are not. They are roses.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back inside your apartment. Maybe it was immature to hate that she couldn’t remember your favorite flowers, but you did. At this point, you hated Kate Bishop as much as you loved her.

That is what hurt the most.

“Y/N, wait!” Kate exclaimed, closing the door behind her as she followed you. You felt the warmth of her skin through the fabric of your shirt as she reached for you, her touch as electrifying as when you danced in that very living room.

“Why did you come?” The words escaped your lips without intention.

“I told you,” Kate replied. “I just want to talk.”

“But why?” You dropped your hands to your side, the bitterness now seeping into your voice. “Why can’t you just go and leave me alone?”

“Because we–”

“No, Kate, there is no ‘we.’ You don’t want me. Stop stringing me along.”

Kate put down the flowers on the coffee table, her eyes dimming. “That is not true.”

“What’s not true?” You retorted, exasperated. 

“That I don’t want you.”

You scoffed. “Oh, please, stop lying. You are leaving, Kate, not me!”

“I know, Y/N, okay? I know!” Kate sounded just as exasperated as you were. She covered her face with her palms, sighing as heavily as the words resounded across the room. “I know I hurt you and I will regret it forever.” She furiously wiped a tear from her cheek, as if she did not want you to see her like that. “It just doesn’t mean I don’t want you. I just wish I didn’t.”

The words rang in your ears, like a drum to the beat of your heart. What did it matter now? She would still leave. “Kate, just go. I don’t want to do this.”

“Listen to me.”

She walked into your space, her palms finding your waist. Your body reacted to her touch naturally, your fist falling on the top of her chest without meaning to.

“Stop...” You pleaded. She closed the gap between you, the tip of her nose almost touching yours.

“I want you so bad these last few days without you have been a torture. I wish I didn’t want you because then...” She hesitated for a second, her voice stuck in her throat. “It wouldn’t be so hard to leave.”

You wanted to hate her. You wanted to break free from her grip, move on from everything she made you feel. But you were powerless. Your body wasn’t your own. It was only an extension of the rage and sorrow and love coursing through your veins. Without thinking about it, you grabbed her cheeks, making those watery sapphire eyes glance back at you.

“Why are you so set on leaving?” You inquired, genuinely. “You don’t have to. You can stay and be everything you want to be here—with me.”

Kate pressed her cheek to your palm, closing her eyes as she shook her head. It was only then that you felt it. The way her pain mirrored yours. Two different sides of the same coin.

“I can’t,” she simply said, making it clear there was no room for question.

The decision had been made and nothing you said would change it.

Silence overcame you both, a far cry from that night full of laughter and drunken haziness that started everything. It wasn’t often that you dared to question how things have gotten this way, but in that moment, wrapped in the quiet and sorrow and everything this woman made you feel, it was inevitable. You wanted to encapsule the last few months in a snow globe, a safe keep for these memories that would haunt you for as long as you lived.

Kate pressed her forehead to yours, the tips of your noses brushing slightly. You could feel her breath on your lips, the essence of her empowering you.

“Y/N, I want you. I couldn’t leave without making sure you knew that.”

Your lips were trapped in hers before you could even have a chance to think. Your mouth molded perfectly with hers, your arms wrapping around her neck in a simple notion. As much as your brain was screaming at you to not get lost in her, this would be all you would have left. Once she left, the memory of the taste of her lips was all you could cling to. And it was as natural as breathing, following the pace she was setting. Perhaps it was foolish, and it went against everything you had said, but that was all you needed then. For a moment, everything else disappeared.

As all things do, the kiss died down slowly. You pulled away reluctantly under Kate’s expectant gaze. You exhaled deeply, trying to retain the last thread of sanity left in your body. You let go of her, feeling the weight of reality upon your shoulder all of a sudden. You closed your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Y/N...” Kate whispered, carefully, and the sound of her voice popped the bubble.

You took a step back, pulling her away from you. “Kate,” you said. “You need to go.”

You didn’t dare to open your eyes to watch her go. You had done it once, when she told you for the first time that she would be leaving. You had no interest in doing so again. You heard the fading steps, the opening and closing of a door. You heard the rumbling in your chest, and you felt the shaking of your shoulders as pain finally overcame you.

You had lost her.

And there was no turning back.

[asclexeposting]

sometimes i feel jealous of cisgender people but then. i dont it’s whatever man. no wait i am. i am very jealous of cisgender people in a fucked up way. what

[michellesneptune]

HOW THE MOON SIGNS ACT WHEN THEY LOVE YOU pt. 2

cancer moon/4h

ultimate cuddlers!!!

this is really biased and feral but i feel like people are here for the tea??

although i think they can be extremely sweet and loving, my opinion remains the same: not all cancers are to be trusted. i think it’s heavenly to be in their good graces, but i also feel like the closer you get, the harder it becomes to be genuinely accepted by them. that is, of course, if they don’t see you as fully deserving of their love. i have yet to be in a relationship with a cancer sun/moon that gives me their full trust. i always feel like they’re frugal with their love towards me. their intentions seem a little hmmm unclear? like they will not speak up about something they don’t accept about you but slowly, in their hearts, they turn away from you??

i am of course speaking solely from my experience. moon is at home in cancer, embodying the archetype of Demeter — the goddess of fertility. when Demeter gets back her beloved daughter, she blesses the whole earth with months of fertile spring. however, when things don’t go her way and Persephone returns to Hades, everyone has to suffer from her sadness during the barren winter months.

if they perceive you as a really worthy partner, they will spoil you with affection. nevertheless, i’d rather not get the short end of their stick!

leo moon/5h

leos have this innate need to feel proud of their lovers. potential partners should possess the it factor about them, da special sparkle. this also applies to their friends! it makes sense, as the sun in them shines so bright, they want their people to illuminate as brightly.

i believe their standards are even higher than virgos’ or capricorns’ and it’s not talked about enough! leos will not engage with just anyone! they have this splash of royalty in them, they can sense a weak self-esteem from a mile.

they want to be able to talk and talk and boast about you. and they want you to make them feel like the only girl in the world.

but here’s the clue. if they feel like you’ve become too boring, their loyalty won’t let them break up with you but slowly the flames stop burning. i’ve seen this happen in a leo moon-taurus moon relationship which makes sense, as taurus prefers persistent, daily acts of service that build a steady, reliable love over time, whereas leo lives for the drama, for the promise of an eternal love, big displays of affection, achieving greatness together.

i’m so sorry if this sounds harsh. i find leo placements to be lovely, all the people i hold dearest to me have them (it’s my descendant sign!). they’re so so open and warm, nearly everything is easy with them.

scorpio moon/8h

i need a scorpio moon friend right. now.

they seem like small, adorable babies who will give up everything for the true, devoted love. their feelings’ depth knows no bounds. extremely loyal, obsessive in the best way possible, what they seek in the other person is a safe haven to hide all their emotions in.

they’re portrayed as very secretive and closed off, even manipulative, but inside they are dying to show somebody their real self. because yeah, behind the darkness there is a small sleepy kitten i feel like.

also here’s the thing: they didn’t choose the darkness, it chose them. their intensity is draining for you, but it’s them who have to deal with it non stop. their emotions are turbulent and it’s often hard to be peaceful, but if you’re willing to accept them as they are and share your own darkest vulnerabilities, they’re yours forever.

aquarius moon/11h

these natives are the best of friends that you could ever wish for! they’re extremely invested in their friend groups, always making sure to initiate contact and check in. they need this as much as they need to breathe and eat! as we know, aquarius is traditionally ruled by saturn, so maybe that’s why they act like glue, keeping their friendships alive, not letting the bonds fall apart as they often sadly do without proper nourishing!

in this situation though, a hierarchy is formed and, sorry to inform the hoes, you come after bros :((.

these guys can be so unpredictable with their feelings i guess there’s no formula on how to get them. i would say befriend them first and then be eccentric enough to still spark the electric interest, the one that they seek in potential partners.

what’s worth noting is the fact that aquarius is a fixed sign, so whatever their quirks may be, they ultimately are loyal and devoted. they are a great paradox and even if they seem detached, they pay attention to their surroundings. whom they need is a persona as big as theirs, someone that shares their passion for the world and everything it has to offer, preferably concerned with big ideas and humanitarian causes. they notice magic in the mundane so their spouse needs to be special as well! when they find you and you find them, you become their person.

the bond they create with lovers might seem unusual to those of more traditional views. aquarius natives need their time away and a lot of solo time to detach and recharge. however, in turn, they will blow your mind with extraordinary thoughts and you will never look at life the same!

[t-a-a-1]

Counting Stars

TFP Optimus x Female Reader

Summary: After a dangerous mission where you almost die, Optimus breaks up with you without knowing you are carrying his sparkling. It's not until seven months later that the universe allows you both to meet once again.

A/N: Lots of yearning, jealousy, delusions, craving, fluff. All that good stuff.

5K

Counting Stars

...

He almost lost you. 

And yet he had to act like he didn't care.

It was to everyone's surprise when he announced that you will no longer be living at the base. It was simple. Due to inner conflicts, you won't be a part of Team Prime any longer. 

No one believed it until you came to pick up your things and said your last goodbyes. 

Optimus was nowhere to be found. 

And no one dared to ask him why.

Only Optimus knows the reason. 

He was well aware of his limits. Knowing that the moment he sees you, he would break down. Throw away his pride and ask you to stay forever with him. That he was a complete idiot to believe he could live a single day without you.

What an idiot he indeed is. 

It's been a week and he can't do it. Primus, give him strength. He sees you everywhere. He smells you in the flowers, feels your touch in the wind, hears your voice in nature and sees you in the stars. How much he misses to taste your lips once more.

"One more day and I think you will go offline, old friend."

Out of embarrassment, Optimus tries to close the windows in the data-pad screen, he was too focused on looking at pictures of you to notice Ratchet walking close to him. 

“What, um-”  He keeps closing tabs, each one having a different picture of you. From different angles and expressions. Blurry and not. “What are you referring to, old friend?”

Ratchet doesn't know how to react to this. He has always been aware of Optimus' massive love for you. Of course he knew. Even more now that the bearer of the Matrix can’t seem to function properly without your presence. 

Optimus keeps closing taps and Ratchet gets a glimpse of Orion Pax. Trying his best to hide the fact that he messed up. 

From innocent pictures, more intimate ones appeared.

“Would you please close your optics?” There is some panic and concern in his voice. But also an authoritative tone to it.  “I do not wish for you to see her the way I used to.”

Ratchet just turns around, giving Optimus enough privacy to conclude his activity. 

“I had just wanted to check up on your well-being due to recent events. But I am afraid that you are in a worse state than I thought possible.”

He hears more clicking and typing before hearing a heavy ex-vent coming from the Autobot leader.

“You can turn around now.”

“Optimus, you can’t continue like this,” the robot medic takes a look at the screen again. It’s empty but the blue blush on Optimus’ face is still evident.  “It’s only been a week. But have you truthly imagined what your life will be after living an eternity without (y/n)?”

Of course he doesn’t think about it. He might be an idiot but not entirely stupid. If he spirals and thinks too much about it he’ll probably lose all sense of responsibility and sanity. He can’t think about no longer being able to see the stars in your eyes. Of not longer hearing the sweetness of your voice or caressing the softness of your skin–

“There’s nothing I can do about it,” Optimus quickly stops thinking.  “My fate is sealed and so is hers. Our paths shall never meet again.”

Knowing Optimus for such a long time, Ratchet knows when he is lying. Even he should be aware of how full of scrap that lie is. Still, he wishes to push it further and see for how long Optimus will keep it up.

“If you truthly think that way then delete all of those frames and we shall never speak of her again.”

Their optics met for a few seconds and the gentle look in Optimus’ optics let Ratchet know everything he needed. However, he wanted his friend to be the one to realize it. Some things have to be lived and pain is the best teacher. 

“I … I-”

Looking back at the screen, there are no pictures of you. The thought of never seeing you again crosses his mind. He doesn’t have much to remember you by. You had taken all of your things. No longer can he phantom words to deny the truth. 

“Why are you putting yourself through all of this pain, old friend? When you and I are aware that you cannot pass a second without thinking of her?”

It was late night at the hangar and all other Autobots had gone to recharge. It was only the two of them and no one dared to ask Optimus about past occurrences that included you. 

“I told her … I wish I had never met her.”

Ratchet slowly opens his intake the moment the words slips Optimus’ glossa. 

“Even if my spark wishes nothing more but to see her again … I am afraid I have severed the relationship beyond repay.”

There is a pause in which Ratchet wanted to comfort his friend, to say some words of encouragement but he doesn’t know if it will be good enough.

“If only you had seen her face, Ratchet  … You would know. I have no right to ask for forgiveness.” 

You are the strongest person he knows. He has yet to see you shed a tear, no amount of injuries have made you do so. But that night, between discussions and arguments, he saw your eyes become crystal. The only thing he could do was to look away. He knew he would break as well if he ever became the reason for your suffering. 

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Seven months passed. 

Not a single word from you. 

Sometimes, however, Optimus would hear Fowler speak about you. A simple ‘She’s doing fine’ and ‘She has made new friends.’

But that was enough to make him wonder about you. Your new life, friends, if you had found anyone who was of your interest.

“We need the Autobot assistance in transporting a highly classified product across the state.”

He finds himself enjoying putting his life in danger. To take on difficult missions so his mind can be occupied. For those moments he is free from the thoughts of you. Any other second he is busy indulging in his torment from your parting. 

Apparently, MECH was extremely interested in this product and had plans to steal it from the CIA. It was the Autobots’ job to prevent that from happening. 

The bots surrounded a black bulletproof truck. They weren’t allowed to look at what was inside which did not please them. If they were to protect something, they wanted to know what it was. However, Optimus gave it a one time pass. After all, Fowler has proved himself to be a trusted ally. 

The first couple of miles went by easily. With no interruptions. 

It wasn’t until it started to go dark that trouble appeared. 

MECH had interjected the mission. Using every single gun, missile and bombs at their dispossession. Whatever that black truck was carrying, they wanted it no matter what. 

“At this rate we are going to lose the target!”

Arcee screamed through her comm-link as she tried her best to take down as many helicopters as possible without hurting any human in the process. Pretty much against her will but orders were orders. 

“These guys are really fighting it out!” Bulkhead was against a few tanks, he had stayed behind to keep them busy while the truck made an attempt to go out of sight. “Are we even sure this thing we are protecting is worth our lives?!”

Optimus was the one closest to the truck, keeping direct contact in case of a disaster. 

“Optimus! We won’t be able to keep them away for long!”

Bumblebee chirped in morse code and the Autobot leader knew he had to do something. 

He drives faster, facing the two officers that were driving the truck. Side to side, they look at the driverless vehicle. 

“Open the trunk and I’ll take the cargo. We won’t be able to hold them for long. I’ll take the cargo somewhere safe while you serve as a distraction. If we don’t do this, you’ll lose it all.”

The military officers look at each other for a small second. Giving a knowing look, they knew what they had to do. They open up the trunk and Optimus slows his driving, taking a look, finally, at what’s inside. 

The cargo is you. 

He quickly transforms back to his robot mode. Running towards you. He extended a sevo, he wanted you to jump. 

You were holding onto the walls of the truck as if your life depended on it. And it did. This was definitely not the encounter you were expecting after not seeing him for seven months. But now it wasn’t the moment to think about that. What happened between the two of you was over. But you still trusted Optimus Prime, the leader he has always been. 

“Quickly!”

You run towards him and jump as the trunk is in fast motion. Your feet land on his servo and in less than a second, he transforms back to his vehicle mode. Now you sat safely in the passenger seat. Optimus moves out of the road and drives off into the forest. Getting lost into the massiveness of nature and tall pine trees. 

No longer being able to hear chaos, Optimus assumed it was safe to talk. 

“Would you care to explain your status and the reasoning to why you are being transported by the American military?”

You weren’t fond of his voice, much less how this conversation started.

“Not even a ‘how are you’ first? You really haven’t changed at all, Prime.”

You say as you cross your arms in front of your chest. Looking outside the window, you wished you were being chased again by MECH. 

“Do not dare to call me by titles.”

There were times you called him by his last name. When you were angry and when the two of you were yet to form a relationship. He doesn’t like to reminisce about those times. 

“Just let me out. I’ll walk.”

“But–”

“I said … I’ll walk.”

Optimus stops and opens the door for you. You hop out of his vehicle mode and start walking without anywhere in mind. 

You put your hands in your oversize hoodie. The last thing you wanted was for him to take a deep look at you. Much less if he starts analyzing your body with stats. 

“I don’t think you know where you are supposed to be located,” he says as he transforms back to his regular robot mode. 

“I’ll figure it out.”

Optimus begins to panic as you start to walk away. This wasn’t how the reunion was supposed to be. He had dreamt of the next time he saw you. Maybe on a field of flowers and running towards each other. Ending it with an embrace and a passionate kiss. 

“Would you listen to reason for once?”

He tries again to engage but he only makes himself sound rude without having those intentions. 

“No.”

Would please look at him? It’s been seven months since he last saw you. He’s only seen your eyes through the pictures of his data-pad but they didn’t compare to seeing them in person–

“Why are you following me? I thought you didn’t care.”

You finally turn to look at him. 

He can’t control his processor at your sight. Your hair was a nice mess, you were wearing clothes too big for you, maybe to hide the few pounds you gained during this time. Your cheeks were pinker and plumber. Dark circles under your eyes but skin glowing and those beautiful eyes that could put any star in the universe to shame.

Optimus stumbles on his pedes and almost falls on his knees, your beauty too distracting for any living being to be witness of. 

“I .. I –”

He can’t believe you are talking to him. This was too soon and no words could leave his voice box as if had forgotten how to speak entirely. 

He wanted to say it all. How much he missed you, how desperately he needed you. How there hasn’t been a single day he didn’t think about you. How everything reminded him of you. And how painful has it been every second you are not with him.

But before he could rant about his undying love for you, he sees a painful expression on your face. Followed by you, placing your arms around your belly and bending as if the cause of your physical pain was located in your stomach.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“Just,” you take a moment to breathe as you slowly make your way towards a tree. “Just leave me alone.”

With sad and curious optics, he sees you put a hand on your stomach. Whispering comforting words. ‘It’s alright’ and ‘It’s ok’ you kept talking to yourself to make you believe those words. 

“We’ll be safe.”

“I am going to run a quick analysis–”

“No,” you interrupt him again. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Optimus dislikes going against your wishes. But the way you are breathing heavily, your sweating and trembling doesn’t look like a good sign. He can manage to live without you if it guarantees that you can live a long happy life. But not the same can be said if your life is cut short for whatever reason. 

“My apologies but my mission is to keep you safe and that’s exactly what I tend to do.”

“I am pregnant,” you had no other choice. “Thankfully, you are not the father.”

That was a lie but at least the shock will prevent and confuse him enough. If Optimus were to do an analysis on your body, he would find anomalies only a Cybertronian would know. 

Finally getting the strength you need, you stand up and walk past Optimus whose face you did not dare to look. Your swollen belly still hurts but you didn’t want to worry him. The reason why you are not with him in the first place is because he thought of you as a liability. You no longer want to be seen as such. 

“Who’s the father of the child?”

The question infuriated you. Of all the things he could have asked, he asks such a selfish question. He shouldn’t care and certainly you are tired of Optimus pretending he does. 

“You know, on Earth, is customary to say ‘congratulations,” you turn to look at him. 

A fatal mistake. 

His optics reflected a grief unknown to you. The type you do not know nor wish to ever experience. Then there is a pain you recognize, that of a broken heart. You knew that feeling very well. He had been the one responsible for it after all. A part of you is happy to know that he is experiencing karma, that he is hopefully experiencing a fraction of the pain he made you go through.

But that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to inflect any type of suffering in him. Not now. Not ever.

“I am sorry.”

There wasn’t anything else you could say. You look down, disappointed at your own feelings.

“No. My apologies,” Optimus noticed your sudden change and he too feels unworthy to be of your presence. Having his ill feelings and jealousy overtake his processor instead of worrying about your well being. “I did not think it was possible for you to find a suitable partner with whom … to mate with … and so soon.”

“Well, humans do not live for long and we only have a few years until we are no longer able to ‘mate’”

You didn’t like using the word ‘mate’ . It made humans sound like animals but you used it so Optimus could be spoken to in terms he could understand. 

“But do you have … feelings for this individual?”

“Yes,” you lied again, trying to see what you can get away with.  “He is just and kind. Tall and handsome.” 

Optimus puts a servo on his hip and looks to the other side. Not looking at anything in particular rather he didn’t want to show his evident discomfort. 

“Yet it seems he is unable to do the most important duty … to protect you.”

“He is quite adequate, actually,” you tease him again. The Autobot leader might be a smart war tactician but is terrible at understanding hints.  “He is the strongest and fierce when needed.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that I have as well found someone else to keep my time occupied,” he stutters, unable to lie. “She’s strong, a good talker and a listener. Kind and has the most beautiful eyes in the entire universe.”

Now he was being too specific for your liking. What if he was telling the truth and he had indeed found someone else? You didn't know how not. After all, Optimus Prime was the most extraordinary being on Earth and probably in the entire universe. 

All of your doubts and insecurities began to fill your heart. You were just a human, easily replaceable. But Optimus? There’s only one of him. You were insignificant compared to him. It has always been this way. 

“Then I hope she is better than I ever was.”

You turn to keep walking into the woods with no destination whatsoever but you didn’t care. 

 “It seems we made the right choice to part ways.”

Optimus wouldn’t have it. He can’t phantom it and it’s probably selfish thinking. But he can’t understand how easily you can say that while there hasn’t been a single day he is not tormented by your absence. When every second of his life has been torture without you. 

“Is that really how you feel?” His voice is indignant. Every circuit in his processor, begged him to hold you. To tell you how much he craves you and how unfair has life been. Taking you away only when you have become the most beautiful of beings.  “After everything?”

“You have someone and I have someone,” you don’t turn around, putting a hand again on your stomach. Giving it a small rub and looking down at it.  “And I am with a child as you can see and very happy.”

“A child that should have been born from our bond. I should have been the father of that sparkling, I-”  

“You wished we had never met,” you whisper quietly but you know he can hear you. He always listened. “So please, stop talking like you care.”

“(Y/N)?” 

He looks at you and notices your distraught. Your breathing has become slower.

“Are you alright?”

You fall but before your body could touch the ground, Optimus catches you on his servo. He studies you for a second. You have pink cheeks and breathing seems difficult. He doesn’t hesitate to use his comm-link.

“Ratchet, I request an immediate groundbridge.” 

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“Vitals are stable but I’ll stay alert tonight to watch over her.”

Ratchet was glad to have you back at the base although he wished it was in different circumstances. After a couple of hours, everyone went back to their private quarters. The only ones left were the medic and the leader of the autobots. 

They watched over you as you slept soundly in the medical berth. Your vital signs displayed on the data-screen. Although everything seems fine, the two of them were known to overthink and worry.

“I waited for everyone to leave to tell you something of an extremely important matter.”

“What is it, old friend?”

“While doing some analyses in (Y/N)’s body, I distinguished an anomaly,” Ratchet clicks on keys and rapidly two sound frames appear. There are many lines, short and big, all close together. Together they create a different pattern from each other. 

 “(Y/N) appears to have two different heart beats. But, of course, that goes against human biology. So I did further testing.”

“I made a discovery. The second beat has a different frequency of that of a human heart,” the medic played the sound, Optimus recognized this as your heartbeat.  “But this other one has the same frequency and energy as a spark.”

“I do not understand.”

Trying to be tactful was hard for Ratchet as it is. He didn’t want to downplay the situation either. It was a serious matter but he has to admit that not even himself can’t contain his exhilaration. 

“Cybertron hasn’t had a single sparkling in centuries so coming to this conclusion took some time” 

The medic ex-vents, somehow it helped with his tension. He has been alive for quite some time and yet he can’t remember the last time he helped bring a new life to Cybertron. It was all the culmination of his studies and practices. Maybe finally he will have a chance to create life instead of just curing it. 

“After all, I had to look through some old archives and Human-Cybertronian hybrids is a first. But seeing that humans have the ability to create life and combining that with Cybertronian transmission genes … I believe I have a definite conclusion.” 

Ratchet presses a key, making the data-screen play a distinct sound. A sound similar to static but a distinct rhythm could be heard. Gentle and soft. Pure. 

“(Y/N) is carrying a sparkling.” 

“By the AllSpark,” Optimus blinks multiple times as he always does when he is excited or perplexed about something. He looks at you. Your small fragile body. “How?”

“How are humans able to create life with a soul, conscious mind and a body?” Ratchet doesn’t know how to explain it, because even he can't fully understand how. “Primus may have heard our prayers and has blessed us with an opportunity to welcome a new life to our race.”

“Agent Fowler must have known this and MECH as well. That’s why they were so precautious when transporting her from one place to the other.”

Optimus made a mental note to ask Fowler about this and his reasoning as to why he wasn’t informed of such an important matter.

“If MECH lay hands on (Y/N) they would experiment on her and the sparkling as soon as it’s  born,” Ratchet says as he walks towards you with a tender expression in his faceplace. “Half Human, half Cybertronian. This child will change everything.”

“Conceived from a son of Primus and a daughter of Unicron.”

The situation was out of legends and myths. The kind of thing that sounds impossible but maybe this little hope inside of you is what is needed to light up their darkest hour. 

“And this may also explain your sudden urge to nest,” the medic’s voice is more light-hearted now. Having flashbacks of Optimus picking up random flowers, pretty rocks and good-looking metal to bring back to the base. When questioned about it, the leader of the Autobots simply responded that he had an urge to do so. 

 “I thought you were going crazy when you started to bring earthly materials to the base.”

“I thought so too.”

Optimus sees you sleep. He has the need to touch your swollen belly, to feel the growing spark within you. You have always been amazing, he knew that much. But he never thought you were capable of conceiving life like their own. What a beautiful sight. One he never thought possible. Now, it’s right in front of him. Hope. The complete personification of it, staring right at him. 

“Will she be alright?”

“She’s stable but she definitely needs to be watched over. Her weakened state is due to the fact that the sparkling is taking too much of her energy,” Ratchet also has his optics on you. The happiest Optimus has ever seen. Knowing that there is hope for their race to continue to grow must be the first real sign of hope Ratchet has had since eons ago.

 “Energon is mostly toxic to humans but the sparkling has created anti-mechs for (y/n)’s immune system to withstand it.  We are going to have to start supplying her with energon if we wish for the sparkling to be born healthy.”

“And most importantly,” he takes a moment to look at his old friend. His optics now showed a more hostile gaze. “A sparkling needs the electromagnetic waves of a caregiver to copy growing behaviors.”

“She needs you, Optimus.”

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It was the middle of the night when you woke up. You feel thirsty but need more than water. Your body has had strange cravings lately but you were not about to randomly drink energon just because the baby wanted to. 

You knew this place too well. The smell of metal and bots was everywhere. The soft vans of the air conditioner are comforting. The orange light coming from Ratchet’s data screen illuminated the room enough for you not to be scared. Although you didn’t want to admit it, you missed this place. Even when you much preferred to be sleeping in the coach instead of the medical berth. 

“Do you need something?”

Optimus came back from behind you. You shake your body and back away a few centimeters. 

“My apologies, I did not want to scare you.”

He had mass-displaced. Still over 10 feet and really tall compared to any regular human. He tries to be delicate even when you know he is not fond of this form. Optimus had told you before that it was a bit uncomfortable for him. Of course, he never seemed to complain whenever he mass shifted to lay on your bed.

You look down and caress your stomach. It would be stupid to believe that Ratchet did not find out about your little secret and told Optimus about it. 

“It’s alright.”

Awkwardly, he sits next to you. You thought he might be furious with you. For lying to him in the first place. But now you feel ashamed for a reason you can’t understand. The mere fact of deceiving Optimus Prime is an unpleasant experience. 

“(Y/N) …”

“I am sorry I didn’t tell you,” you don’t look at him. Instead, you look down at your feet and how they hang from the medical berth.  “Don’t get angry at Fowler, please. I was the one who told him not to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you want to share such important information?”

“Because you said … You wished you had never met me,” you feel a knot forming on your throat. It hurts to speak, to even form thoughts and remember what happened seven months ago. His voice is still very present in your memories. The pain is still in your heart.  “So I thought, you wouldn’t want our child either.”

Clenching his servo into a fist, Optimus fights the urge to hold you. You were so close, yet the only thing he can indulge himself with is your scent. It's different now. It was your smell combined with a new aroma. That of his sparkling. 

“I have made many hard decisions in my life,” it was difficult for him to look at you. Now, he feels indignant to stand before you. You were to him what the gods were to their subjects. Devotion is not enough for him to satisfy his service to you. 

 “But the hardest decision was to let you go and I did it because I was scared. Even now, I doubt myself. Maybe you’ll be safer somewhere else. Away from me, away from all of this,”

Reminiscing about the past is painful to him. Most memories of you are lovely, unforgettable. But that time seven months ago when the Decepticons had captured you. The screams, the terror in your face, Megatron ordering you to tell him how scared you were. How he couldn’t do anything. Helpless. Pathetic. 

And for a small second. For a fraction he really believed he had lost you. That was enough for him to know he won’t function without you. 

 “If something were to happen to you … I won’t be able to … I can’t-”

He feels his entire core shake. His servos trembling as they remember holding your almost lifeless body.

“I am sorry,” his voice glitches. “I said unforgivable things with hopes that they would push you away. To protect you. I can live with you hating me but I cannot envision the day the universe takes your soul from me.” 

May Primus have mercy on his spark. May he forgive him but Optimus would throw everything away just to hold you. Just for his words to reach your heart. To feel your touch once again. 

“But I was a fool to believe I could stay away from you. To think that my restraint was as strong as my morals.” 

There is silence and although he doesn’t dare to look at you, he can feel your presence. For now it was enough to have you next to him. 

  “You may not believe in my words but believe this; the only good thing this fool has ever done is love you. It's the only thing … the only decision I have no doubts about.”

Suddenly, softness meets his faceplate. Immediately, his optics were on the blink of releasing energon. With a simple touch, you had healed him. A part of his spark that felt empty was full again. The meaning to his life was restored. 

“Do you even know how much I missed you?” 

You ask him with a gentle voice. Caressing every sense of his audials, engraving them in his processor. To forever remain in the deepest part of his mind. 

He can’t even begin to tell you what he truly feels. He had given up. Come to realize that no words, no language in the present, past nor future could ever be vast enough to express the love he has for you. 

Optimus could try with his actions. That may not be enough either. But he will have all of eternity to make for it. 

“Everyday after you left, I would go to the rooftop on the base and I would count each star in the sky,” he puts a servo on top of your hand and his dermas brush against your skin, a small kiss. “To try and relieve the nights I would count the stars in your eyes.”

You didn’t say anything. Whenever it came to talking, Optimus was always more proficient. You never felt the need to say something either, he always knew what you meant. What you were feeling. Words were not necessary. Not when he can read your eyes so easily. 

“And not even the timeless company of the entire universe could compare to one second with you.”

That night, you rested in his chassis. Missing your warmth, he embraced you. Your stomach pressed lightly against him. This experience was something new to him and he was terrified of it. Afraid he won’t be good enough to be a partner or a father. But as long as you were with him, the impossible became possible. So maybe becoming someone worthy of a sparkling could also be feasible. 

Optimus will try his very best. For you, for the sparkling. For himself. Failing it's not an option and being a father was a greater honor than being a Prime. A title he would give up if only you would ask him. Of course, you will never ask him such a thing. He knew you better than that. 

Optimus believes in Primus, fully. But he is thankful to whatever gods created you. If he could and knew how, he would pray and thank them. 

He now has another chance. Another opportunity. To give you what he has been collecting. 

Maybe tomorrow he will give you all the dandelions he found for you. 

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A/N: Sorry for the late Christmas post. Merry Christmas and Happy New Years I hope y’all enjoyed this. As always, for any questions, comments, concerns or prompt ideas you can send me an inbox. For all the love and support … Thank you! See you next year!

[wholoveseggs]

Omg love your elijah stuff it's the best out there! Could you write a fluffy smut where the reader and elijah get married and she's still human and they plan for her to turn on their wedding night. But since she's about to become a vampire and knows elijah loves the taste of her the blood she has him drink from her during sex one last time and she drinks from him so after sex and aftercare his blood is in her system and he turns her then:)

Something Sweet

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

It's the day of your wedding, a day you've dreamed about since you were young. Everything is exactly as you imagined it would be, except one thing. Today is not only the day of your wedding, today is also the day you die... And you never wanted anything so badly.

♡♡Thanks for the request lovely @sarah-bear706318! I made this one super fluffy♡♡

5.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, so much flufffff, blood drinking, sappy Elijah, something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue...

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

Trying to fix my tags! I re-added all of you, and now you will be posted at the top! If you no longer wished to be tagged just shoot me a DM {I won't be offended} xoxo~

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv @myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming @criminallminds @rosemarypotion @spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse @sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2 @itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury @sekaishell @ziayamikaelson @amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28 @loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy

It was the day of your wedding and you were awoken by the birds chirping outside of your bedroom window. You rolled over to find your side of the bed empty and cold, a note from Elijah in his elegant handwriting.

My love,

I thought it best if I did not see you until the ceremony, as that is a tradition.

I have not been able to sleep. I am both excited and nervous for today, my beautiful wife. I will spend every waking moment cherishing you.

Elijah

You smiled to yourself as you read his words, imagining him pacing the floor as he wrote this, probably in the study or the library.

You pressed the note to your chest, you could hardly believe that you were getting married today. It was a day you had dreamed about since you were young. You had imagined what your wedding dress would look like, the flowers you would pick for the arrangement, how you would wear your hair. But now, none of that seemed important, the only thing on your mind was what came after the wedding.

Elijah would make you a vampire tonight, and then you would have eternity together.

He was still hesitant, even though you had insisted this was what you wanted. He worried that one day you would regret it, that you would hate him for it, that it would break the connection between the two of you.

But he was wrong, you knew it would only strengthen your bond. You loved him so much that it was impossible to put it into words. You would do anything for him, give him anything, including your life.

After a few moments of lying in bed and thinking of your handsome husband to be, you heard the sound of your bedroom door opening. In walked your three bridesmaids and your maid of honor, carrying a tray of delicious breakfast foods.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty!" Rebekah said, walking around the bed and placing the tray on the mattress in front of you.

"What are you still doing in bed?" Freya asked.

"Yeah, it's your wedding day! We have a lot to do!" Camille exclaimed.

You chuckled and sat up in bed, tucking the duvet over your legs. Hayley laid on the bed next to you, popping a bottle of champagne open and pouring four glasses.

"Everybody relax, we have lots of time," she said, handing you a glass. "Don't stress her out,"

Rebekah rolled her eyes and picked up a bag from the floor.

"We have some gifts for you, Mrs. Mikaelson," she teased.

"I'm not Mrs. Mikaelson, yet," you pointed out, taking a sip of the champagne.

"Oh please, the two of you act married already, he is the most whipped man I have ever seen," Rebekah said, sitting on the other side of the bed and passing a wrapped present to you.

You giggled at her comment, knowing it was true. You were a little surprised by how much he was willing to bend to your will. He was a stubborn man, but with you, he was a complete pushover. He told you once that he found it impossible to deny you anything, and that's how he knew you were the one.

You carefully unwrapped the gift and found a beautiful necklace, with a sapphire pendant, you held it up to the light, the rays bouncing off the gem and painting the walls of your room in blue light.

"It's beautiful," you said, smiling at the girls.

"It's something blue, from Freya," Rebekah explained, as Freya fastened it around your neck.

"I spelled it so you can always find each other, no matter where you are. So when you are away, you can always feel him close to you," she explained.

You were touched by her thoughtfulness, touching the stone as it rested against your chest. You couldn't explain it, but it did feel like him, like he was right beside you.

"Thank you, Freya," you said, squeezing her hand.

"Okay now mine!" Rebekah interrupted, holding her present out to you. "Something old,"

You grinned and took the large box from her, opening it to find a beautiful vintage corset, along with a matching set of lace underwear and stockings.

"Rebekah, these are gorgeous!" You said, running your fingers over the intricate designs.

"They're vintage, of course," she said, proudly. "Elijah is rather fond of that time period, I thought they might... inspire him," she added, winking.

You blushed, he didn't need any encouragement in the bedroom, you were certain of that.

"My gift is next," Hayley said, holding out her gift to you. "Something new, and I'm really sorry, but they aren't quite as classy as the last two," she said, nervously.

You took the bag and opened it, it was full of luxury naughty nightwear, baby dolls, bras, panties, a silk robe, all in different colors and fabrics. Along with a few sex toys and a pair of handcuffs.

"I had to get you something practical," she said, with a smirk.

"I love it, thank you," you said, giggling. "I will certainly put them to good use,"

"Okay now mine, it's something borrowed," Camille said, handing you a small box.

You opened the velvet box and found a gorgeous pair of diamond earrings, with a matching bracelet.

"Camille, these are beautiful," you breathed, examining the sparkling jewels.

"They've been in my family for a long time, they belonged to my grandmother," she explained, clasping the bracelet around your wrist.

You looked at your wrist and smiled, your friends were the most wonderful women you had ever met, they had been so welcoming and so supportive, and now here they were, giving you the best gifts ever.

"Thank you, all of you, so much. This has been the best morning," you said, pulling them all in for a group hug.

"More champagne!" Rebekah exclaimed, grabbing the bottle and topping up everyone's glass.

"We still have the day to go, I'm going to have a terrible hangover at my own wedding," you pointed out, taking a large sip anyway.

"Not for long," Rebekah said, a mischievous smile on her face.

The wedding party went quiet, everyone knew exactly what she was talking about, that Elijah was planning to turn you after the reception.

"It's really happening then, tonight?" Hayley asked, looking at you.

You nodded.

"How are you feeling about it?" She asked.

"A little nervous, I guess," you admitted. "But excited,"

"It's a big decision, are you sure you are ready for it?" Freya asked, putting her arm around you.

"Absolutely. I've never been more sure of anything," you said, without hesitation.

"You'll make a lovely one," Rebekah added, pulling you out of bed and to your feet.

"Come on, we have a lot to do, the hair and makeup people will be here in an hour, and I need to make sure you eat something first," she said, ushering you towards the bathroom.

"And then we can finally see this dress!" Hayley added, excitedly.

The five of you spent the rest of the morning in a flurry of activity, the girls made sure you ate and drank water, despite how much champagne was flowing. The hairdresser and makeup artist did wonders, and then finally, it was time for the dress.

You had put on the vintage corset and underwear, rolling up the stocking and clipping them in place. The girls helped you step into the gown, fastening the buttons up the back, before you stood in front of the mirror.

Rebekah started to cry and Freya and Camille put their arms around her, all of them staring at you.

"Are you okay, Bekah?" You asked, looking at her reflection.

She wiped her tears and sniffed. "He's going to faint when he sees you,"

The four of them laughed and you turned around, holding out your hands.

"Well, let's go get married,"

The music started as you entered the garden, and everyone stood, turning to look at you.

It was like a fairytale.

Your eyes were on Elijah the entire time, his eyes were a bit glassy and he was nervously playing with his hands. Klaus handed him a tissue, patting his shoulder and Rebekah hooked her arm in yours , guiding you down the aisle.

"No fainting yet," you whispered to Rebekah, making her giggle.

"I promise I will catch him if he does," she whispered back.

He held out his hand to you when you finally reached him and you took it, Rebekah handing your bouquet to Hayley.

"Hello," you whispered, looking up at him.

"Hi," he replied, smiling down at you, his brown eyes warm and loving.

"You look perfect," he said, softly.

"So do you," you said, grinning at him.

Klaus cleared his throat and began to speak.

"We are gathered here today, to join Elijah and Y/n in matrimony. They have both written their own vows, so Elijah, you may start,"

Elijah squeezed your hands and smiled at you, his eyes soft and full of love.

"My love, you are the one that I have waited centuries for. The one who brings light into my life. I love you so much, I will be forever grateful that I found you. I promise to spend every day of eternity showing you how much I love and cherish you. Thank you for agreeing to marry me, thank you for loving me," he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You felt tears in your eyes as he finished speaking, reaching up and brushing a tear away with his thumb. The crowd aww'd at his words, and the entire wedding party dabbed at their eyes with tissues.

"I'm afraid my vows are going to sound a little lame after that," you teased, making Elijah chuckle.

"Elijah," you began. "I have loved you from the moment I saw you. You have always been there for me, through good and bad, you have taken care of me, supported me, loved me. I know my heart is safe with you. You have always said you would give me the world, and I know you will, and I want to give you mine, for as long as I live,"

Elijah's eyes became glassy again and he took a deep breath, fighting back his tears.

"Do we have the rings?" Klaus asked.

You glanced down the aisle to see Hope toddling towards you, with a pillow in her hands. Everyone watched her and she reached you, proudly handing the rings to her uncle.

"Thank you, darling," Elijah said, ruffling her hair.

"You may exchange the rings," Klaus said, Hope was now clinging to his leg, watching the ceremony with fascination.

Elijah slipped the ring on your finger, and you did the same, looking down at the two silver bands. You realized that your ring had a lapis lazuli stone embedded in the metal, the one that would allow you to walk in the sunlight when you were a vampire.

"Elijah, do you take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," he replied, staring deep into your eyes.

"Y/n, do you take Elijah as your lawfully wedded husband, to love and cherish, until death do you part?"

"I do," you said, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

"Well then, by the power invested in me by a monk in the 12th century, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,"

Elijah cupped your cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His hands moved down your back, tilting you backwards, dipping you. The guests cheered and applauded, and the photographer snapped pictures.

"I love you," he said, whispering the words into your mouth.

"I love you, Mr. Mikaelson," you said, grinning.

He pulled you up, his eyes were bright, and his cheeks were flushed, his happiness radiating off him.

"Mrs. Mikaelson," he said, softly.

You kissed him again, the two of you wrapped in each other's embrace, his arms holding you tight against him.

"Let's get this party started!" Marcel yelled, causing a cheer from the crowd.

The two of you made your way back down the aisle, and back into the house. As soon as you were inside, you pulled Elijah in for a passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"We are married," you said, giggling.

"Indeed we are," he replied, smiling.

"Can't we skip the party, and just go upstairs now?" You asked, kissing him again.

"My greedy little wife," he teased. "Don't worry, tonight will be worth the wait,"

The compound was elaborately decorated, with lights and flowers hanging everywhere, and the guests were laughing and dancing, having a great time.

You sat at a table near the dance floor with your new husband, watching everyone. His hand was resting on your thigh, squeezing it gently every so often.

It was getting late, the sun had set and the guests were getting more and more drunk. The music slowed and the couples swayed together, some kissing and holding each other tight.

"So," Elijah whispered in your ear. "How are you feeling about tonight?"

"I can't wait," you said, turning to look at him. "I just can't wait for us to start our lives together,"

"Me either, sweetheart," he said, brushing his lips against your temple. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I want this." You placed a hand on his cheek. "More than anything."

He let out a long sigh, his hand squeezing your thigh tighter. But he didn't say anything else.

After a moment, he stood up and held out his hand.

"Dance with me?"

You took his hand and he led you out to the dance floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck and his hands rested on your hips.

The two of you danced slowly to the music, lost in each other's eyes.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked him, breaking the silence.

"Nothing." He replied, smiling softly, looking away.

You narrowed your eyes. "Don't lie to me, Mr. Mikaelson."

He chuckled. "Fine. I'm thinking about how beautiful you are, and how lucky I am."

"I'm the lucky one," you whispered, leaning in and kissing him softly.

The two of you continued slow dancing and you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"I'm nervous," He admitted, softly his hands running up and down your back.

You lifted your head and looked up at him. "Why?"

"I don't want to see you die," He looked into your eyes, and you could see the pain behind them. "I don't want to watch the light leave your eyes, and not be able to do anything about it."

You cupped his cheek and stroked it. "I'll come right back, Elijah. You have nothing to worry about."

He nodded, then leaned in and kissed you, soft and slow. His hands on your hips, slowly guiding you, the two of you still moving to the music.

After a few minutes, he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours.

"I don't think I'm capable of not worrying about you." He said, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"Well," You whispered, smiling up at him. "That's something we have in common, then."

His hands were on your lower back, his fingertips tracing patterns on the soft fabric.

"Do you remember when we met?" He asked, looking down at you.

"I do." You said, giggling. "It was the most cliché thing ever, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

"You were wearing a green dress." He recalled. "You were trying to get a book from the top shelf at this little bookstore. You had climbed onto a chair and were stretching your arm as far as you could, but you just couldn't reach it. And I thought, 'that's the most adorable thing I've ever seen'."

You laughed, remembering how flustered you'd been. "And then, I dismissed your attempt to help me as being creepy,"

"Until you tripped over your own feet and fell into my arms." He reminded you, a smirk on his face.

"You caught me, though." You whispered.

"That I did," he murmured. "And I will always catch you."

You stood on your tiptoes, kissing him softly. "I'm glad," you said.

His hands moved lower, grabbing your ass, and pulling you closer. You blushed and looked around quickly, but nobody seemed to be paying any attention to you.

"I remember something else about the day we met," he whispered in your ear.

You looked up at him and smiled. "What?"

"How you looked in my bed that night, the soft little moans you made," he teased.

You bit your lip, a wave of arousal washing over you. The memory still fresh in your mind.

"You have a way of making me lose all sense," you said, breathlessly.

"I know," he smirked, his eyes sparkling, "I've got you right where I want you."

You giggled, burying your face in his chest, breathing in his scent.

"You are so bad," you whispered.

He hummed in agreement, squeezing your ass once more, causing you to let out a little squeak.

"We should say goodbye to our guests," he murmured. "There is a car waiting,"

You nodded and let him guide you around, saying goodbye to all the guests. They followed the two of you out to the courtyard, and then they began throwing rice and rose petals, while the two of you got into the waiting car.

As the car drove away, the guests cheered and you couldn’t help the huge grin on your face, waving at them until they were out of sight.

Elijah's hand rested on your thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the city go by.

"So, are you going to tell me where we are going?" You asked, glancing at him.

"There's this lakehouse, about an hour from here. It's a quiet, private place, not even my siblings know about it." He said, pulling your hand into his lap.

"You didn't tell anyone about it?" You asked, a little shocked.

"Not a soul," he said, smiling. "I've had a few secret hideaways over the years, but this one is special."

"Why is that?" You asked.

"It's where I go to get away from everything, to clear my head and recharge," he explained. "And now, it's going to be our special place,"

"That's sweet," you said, kissing his cheek.

The drive seemed to take forever, but finally the car turned onto a long driveway. Elijah helped you out of the car, and then he scooped you into his arms.

"You are such a romantic," you said, giggling.

"I try," he teased, carrying you inside.

He set you down in the entryway, and then took your hand, leading you around. It was a gorgeous home, and it was obvious that Elijah had put a lot of work into it.

But he didn't give you much time to admire it, before he was on you, quickly dragging you to the bedroom.

His hands roaming your body, his mouth crashing onto yours, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Don't you dare rip my wedding dress Mr. Mikaelson," you breathed.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, his hands gently tugging the fabric.

You giggled and pushed him away, holding his gaze, then you turned and looked over your shoulder at him, motioning to the buttons going down your back.

His fingers deftly undid the small buttons, taking his time, as if he was savoring each one. He kissed along the back of your neck and shoulders, pushing the straps of the dress off, and letting it fall to the ground.

His hands went to your waist, helping you step out of the dress, and he knelt down, picking it up and placing it carefully on a nearby chair.

"Such a gentleman," you said, softly.

His gaze roamed over your body, admiring the way the lingerie clung to your skin, accentuating every curve.

"Gorgeous," he said, stepping closer, his fingers tracing along the boning of the corset.

Your hands went to his chest, reaching up to undo his bowtie. He watched your hands, his eyes darkening with desire.

You tossed the tie aside, and began unbuttoning his shirt. You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, your hands continuing their path.

When you got to his pants, you stopped, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You ran your finger along his waistband, teasing him.

He groaned and picked you up, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck.

In an instant you were on the bed, the speed of vampires never ceased to amaze you. You lay there, looking up at him, your hair fanning out around your head, and you couldn't help but grin.

"Will you teach me to do that?" You asked, referring to the vamp speed.

He chuckled, leaning down and kissing your cheek. "Of course, my love. I will teach you everything you need to know."

You smiled, then reached up and pulled him down, crushing your lips together. He pressed his hips against yours, and you could feel the bulge in his pants.

"What else can you teach me?" You whispered, biting your lip and looking into his eyes, trying to look all sweet and innocent.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, his eyes darkening. "Lots of things."

You ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly. "I can't wait."

He grinned and leaned in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands moving all over your body, caressing and squeezing.

"But first I'm going to take this corset off." He said, his fingers trailing down your chest and finding the ribbons. "I'm going to untie it slowly, and then I'm going to kiss every inch of your skin."

You let out a small gasp, his words sending a wave of arousal through you. He pressed his hips harder against your hand, still working to slowly untie the first ribbon.

"I'm going to make you come all over my tongue," He said, his voice raspy and low, working on loosening the second ribbon, pulling it free. "Over," He tugged on the third, "And over," the fourth, "And over."

You moaned, his words making you dizzy, and he grinned, pulling the last ribbon loose.

The corset fell away, and Elijah quickly pulled it from you, tossing it aside. His hands were on your breasts immediately, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, causing them to harden.

He lowered his head, his tongue flicking out and swirling around one nipple, before sucking it into his mouth.

You were panting, your hands gripping the sheets, watching as he made his way down, slowly removing your panties. He kissed his way up your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

He looked up at you and smirked, then slowly lowered his head, groaning as he licked a broad stroke over your pussy.

You gasped, arching your back, pushing yourself closer to him. He chuckled, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them further apart, his tongue teasing and licking at your clit.

You were in heaven. The sounds he was making, the way he was devouring you, it all felt incredible. You couldn't help the moans and whimpers escaping from your throat, only fueling him on.

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of him between your legs, the way his gaze would meet yours sent a thrill through you. He looked so content and satisfied, his eyes hooded, his tongue working you expertly.

He suddenly slipped a finger inside you, curling it against your walls, searching for that sweet spot. When he found it, he smirked, picking up the pace of his tongue lapping at your clit.

You came undone in seconds. Your walls clenched around his finger and your back arched, crying out his name.

He lifted his head, staring up at you, his eyes black. He licked his lips and winked at you, two of his fingers still pumping in and out of you.

He looked down at your flushed face and swollen lips, watching your body coming down from your high. You were always so beautiful after an orgasm. He could always coax these little spasms out of you afterwards, making you moan even more.

"I love you." He whispered. "My perfect wife."

With a wicked smirk, he slid a third finger in, curling against your g-spot, a delighted squeak escaping your lips as you squeezed his fingers.

"I can't wait to spend eternity with you," He said, his voice slow and gruff, the pleasure overwhelming you. "Watching you come like this, every night."

He continued to pump his fingers, with firm and steady strokes, the pressure building and building. Your body began to tense again, your moans becoming louder and more desperate. He grinned, watching you fall apart for him.

Your body started to shake, the waves of pleasure hitting you again and again, as you came on his fingers. He captured your lips in a rough kiss, swallowing your moans.

You collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily, the aftershocks still rolling through you. Elijah leaned down and kissed your neck, nuzzling against you.

"My wife," he said, savoring the way it sounded.

You giggled, still feeling a bit floaty. You looked up at him, taking in the sight of him. He was so handsome, his dark hair slightly disheveled, his eyes shining with love and affection.

"My husband," you said, reaching up and brushing some hair out of his eyes.

He smiled, his hands tracing along your bare skin. "You don't have to turn tonight, if you're not ready,"

You shook your head, smiling. "No, I want to. I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice full of concern.

"Eli," you said, cupping his cheek. "I'll be okay,"

His expression turned a bit serious, his eyes flashing with worry.

"You're my whole world, I won't lose you," he said, kissing you deeply.

"You won't lose me," you said, softly.

"Promise?" He asked, his hand moving to your cheek, stroking it gently.

"I promise," you said, your heart fluttering.

He gently pushed your legs apart, his fingers stroking your thigh, the touch sending sparks through you.

"I will never let anything happen to you," he said, positioning himself between your legs.

"I know," you said, gasping when you felt him ease into you, slowly and gently.

"I love you," he said, leaning down and kissing your lips, as he began to move his hips, pushing himself deeper. "More than anything,"

"I love you, too." You gasped, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer.

One of his hands went to the small of your back, the other cradling behind your neck. He held you to him, forehead to forehead, his eyes boring into yours.

He rocked his hips, grinding against you, filling you completely. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, then his lips pressed against yours, whispering how much he loved you.

You felt as though your heart beats were the same, the way it was pounding in your chest, in time with his. The way he held you like this, close and tight, it was everything.

The heat and friction began building between you, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. The air filled with the sounds of your moans and sighs, your bodies moving together.

You could feel another orgasm building, your breath coming in short, ragged pants. He seemed to sense this, his pace picking up, his eyes locked on yours.

"I want you to come with me," he said, his voice husky and low, as his hips drove into you, over and over.

"Yes," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his back, leaving crescent moon marks in his skin.

Together, you let go, your bodies trembling and shuddering, clinging to each other. He buried his face in your neck, groaning, his teeth scraping your skin.

You lay there for a few moments, holding each other, your breathing slowly returning to normal. His lips were still against your neck, his arms wrapped around you.

"Elijah?" You asked, hesitantly.

"Mmm?" He mumbled, not wanting to move.

"I know how I want to die," you said, quietly.

He pulled back, looking at you. ". . . You do?"

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip, you weren't sure if he would be willing to do this for you.

"I want you to drink from me," you said, softly.

His eyes widened, a look of shock on his face.

"I mean, only if you're okay with it. We can find a different way... You can just snap my neck like we originally planned... I just thought...," you said, quickly, starting to ramble.

He cut you off with a deep, passionate kiss.

"Are you sure?" He asked, once the kiss broke.

You nodded, a shy smile on your face.

"Absolutely."

"Alright, but if it gets too much, tell me. We can always stop," he said, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Okay," you said, nodding.

He sat up, leaning against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. His hands on your hips, he didn't move for a moment, just looked at you, a gentle smile on his lips.

"I'm ready Elijah... I want this," you said, cupping his face, and brushing your lips against his.

He kissed you softly, with pure tenderness and love. He looked into your eyes, and you could see the conflicting emotions running through him. Fear, happiness, sorrow, joy.

You stroked his cheek, reassuring him.

"I love you," he said, biting down on his wrist and bringing it to your lips.

"I love you, too," you whispered, taking his blood into your mouth, his free arm wrapping around your waist.

His wrist fell away, and he tilted his head, pressing his lips to yours. Then, he kissed a trail down your neck, stopping right over the vein.

You could feel the sharpness of his fangs, his mouth ghosting across your skin. His hands moved to your back, rubbing it soothingly. He was still hesitating.

Your hands gripped his chest, preparing for the sting of pain, the dark shroud of death that awaited you.

His fangs sank into you, and your body jerked. But the pain was fleeting, as the pleasure began to take over. His hands moved up and down your back, pulling you closer, his mouth working over the bite.

He was so gentle, and tender, the way he was holding you, caressing you. It made your heart swell with love, as the blood flowed from you.

He drank slowly, savoring the taste of your blood, listening to your heart beating slower, your breathing becoming shallower.

He could feel your life force slipping away, the blood no longer rushing through your veins. He felt an almost uncontrollable fear, and he had to fight the urge to let go.

You began to drift away, darkness creeping around the edge of your vision. Your eyes fluttered shut, your heart skipping a beat, before it came to a complete stop.

He pulled his mouth away, and pressed his forehead to yours, his tears falling on your face.

He let out a choked sob, the anguish of losing you was too much. He knew you would return, but in this place of nothingness, the void, it was all too real.

Your body was cuddled into his, your head resting in his shoulder, the wound on your neck still oozing blood.

He closed his eyes, and focused on the future, of all the things he would teach you. The places he would take you. The adventures you would have.

He was going to make the most of this eternity with you.

It didn't take long for your heart beat to return, or for you to stir. Your eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light.

"Eli?"

He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Welcome back," he said, smiling.

You returned his smile, snuggling against him, and sighing.

"How do you feel?" He asked, his arms tightening around you.

"Hungry."

He laughed, stroking your hair. "I have just the thing for that,"

You nodded, sitting up, and looking at him. He looked tired, his eyes rimmed with red, his hair tousled.

"Have you been crying?" You asked, gently.

He nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

You kissed him softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"It's alright, my love. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, pressing your forehead to his.

"Good," he said, letting out a shaky breath.

He held you, his hands stroking your back, your hair.

You lay there for a while, in the safety of his arms, before he pulled away, and smiled at you.

He reached for a blood bag he had gotten ready, and handed it to you. You tore into the bag, and drank deeply. You hadn't realized how thirsty you were, until you tasted the blood. It was sweet, and thick, and it was exactly what you needed.

He watched your eyes turn black, dark veins snaking underneath them, and smiled. You were beautiful.

When you were done, he tossed the bag aside, and wrapped his arms around you again.

"So, what happens now?" You asked, your eyes searching his.

"We live.”

[galactic-magick]

I Love You, I'm Sorry: Viktor x Reader

Based off of this reply on my last Viktor fic:

@lillycore : Duddee, imagine after the final scene between Viktor and Jayce they just disappear (I refuse to believe they both died, I’m just going believe, until it’s confirmed, that they simply teleported somewhere else), leaving reader alone without a chance to confront Viktor and believing they both died. So now, reader is left to pick up the pieces of her closest friend and love of her life gone, while believing Viktor no longer loves her (he does though, he was just a little confused with everything, but he still loves her)

Words: 1.2k

Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for the notes and kind words on my last Viktor fic, it truly means the world to me as a writer to see so many people touched by my writing. I hope you enjoy this equally devastating part 2.

They’re gone. They’re really gone.

No family, no friends, not a single loved one of yours survived this damn war. All this world has done is take, take, take.

You’re haunted by the last time you saw your beloved Viktor—completely unrecognizable. He had turned himself into a monster, disappearing with Jayce trying to save him. You didn’t even get to say goodbye, you didn’t even get to tell him you still love him.

Or ask if he still loved you.

You don’t know what would hurt less, believing he stopped loving you, or believing he did everything he did while loving you.

-

“Why can’t she hear me?” Viktor shouts into the void. He’s been calling your name for what feels like an eternity, his voice no longer carrying to your world.

Jayce puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You don’t have vessels to speak through anymore. She probably thinks we’re dead. Well, maybe we are…”

“No, no, this can’t be the end,” Viktor shakes his head vigorously. “I have to get back to her. She...she needs to know I love her. She needs to know I’m sorry.”

He falls to his knees amongst the stars, cursing himself for everything. How could he choose the hexcore over you? Why didn’t he seek you out when he survived the explosion? How did he let himself descend so far into madness that he forgot about your importance to him?

He’s now desperate for you to hear him, pleading the forces that bind his consciousness to this astral plane for another chance. He searches this dimension he’s come to know so well, looking for a loophole or tear in the fabric, but it’s no use. Everything has been closed—his supposed eternal consequence for his abuse of power.

Jayce saved him from himself, a feat he will forever be indebted to him for, but what is the point of redemption if he cannot live it out in his own flesh?

Would there have been a body left for him anyway? Would you still have loved him as the monstrosity he became?

Why must he still be cursed with the full vision of the universe? He sees you continue your life so clearly, but he can’t touch you, can’t speak to you. Your form shines the brightest light he’s ever seem in this dimension, an achievement that is not easily matched. He wonders if you can feel him reaching out to you, some sort of spiritual pull back to him. He will do anything to find a way to talk to you again.

-

You’ve been having dreams—dreams you can’t explain. Ever since Viktor’s disappearance, he’s tormented you day and night, constantly occupying your thoughts without mercy. You can hear his voice, but it sounds so far away you can never make out the words. You just wish it would all stop. You wish you could just erase him and all of the pain from your memory.

Sometimes you still feel a presence, the feeling you used to feel when he was in the same vicinity with you, admiring you from across a room. It’s a familiar warmth that used to wash you with peace, whereas now it makes your heart ache. You suppose it’s a normal symptom of grief, subconsciously denying that he’s really gone.

You start to go through his things he left at your house, beginning with his various textbooks and notebooks he would bring over for studying. Seeing his scribbles and handwriting again brings tears to your eyes, a single drop falling onto the paper as you read.

You blink a few times, seeing a couple of letters on the page start to glow. You must be seeing things, hallucinating from sleep deprivation. You close the journal and open it again, but the glowing letters are still there.

You grab a separate piece of paper and write down each glowing letter, finding fifteen total.

“I - L-O-V-E - Y-O-U - I-M - S-O-R-R-Y”

This isn’t happening. It can’t be.

-

“It’s working! She got my message!” Viktor exclaims.

“How...how are you doing that?” Jayce asks.

“Tiny rips in space—not big enough for either of us to escape through—but certainly big enough to briefly touch that reality,” Viktor pauses, still waiting for a response from you, but it doesn’t come.

-

You close the journal and sob, praying for an end to this misery. Your mind is playing tricks on you, deceiving you to a level you never thought possible. Must you be haunted by this forever? Must you endure the aftermath of this trauma?

You open it once again, the letters still glowing, but they start to fade right in front of your eyes. A new set of letters begin to glow, so you write those down as well.

“I-T-S - M-E - D-A-R-L-I-N-G”

And then another set of letters.

“P-L-E-A-S-E - T-A-L-K - T-O - M-E”

Maybe you’re not imagining.

You’ve heard of magicians who can converse with the dead, and the possibility of other dimensional planes and universes. Viktor himself had some theories about it, although he never pursued proving them. Could it really be possible that your beloved was speaking to you?

“Viktor?” you say out loud. “Are you...are you alive?”

“I - D-O-N-T - K-N-O-W”

The pencil drops from your hand again as your head falls to the table. His consciousness is somehow alive, clearly, but there’s no way he can explain to you where he is and how to get him out one letter at a time. You’re nowhere near his level of intellect—even if he explained how to rescue him like you’re five years old—you fear you still would mess something up.

“Viktor...I can’t do this. You can’t do this to me,” you sigh, daring to look at the words again. “You abandoned me, and now my life is a living hell because of the destruction you helped cause. I want nothing to do with your war and stupid glorious evolution. So if you’re not here to take me away from this life, please go away.”

The same original words start glowing again, brighter each time they sequence:

I love you, I’m sorry.

I love you, I’m sorry.

I love you, I’m sorry.

“Love doesn’t do what you did. Love doesn’t abandon its humanity for power.”

Please forgive me.

“I do forgive you for everything, Viktor. That’s exactly why I need to forget about you, because I will never stop loving you and hurting for it if I don’t.”

With blurry eyes, you close the journal and throw it into the fireplace, regretting it almost immediately. You grab a stick and pull it out, your tears falling onto the soot-stained cover.

“Please, just...find a way back to me.”

I will.

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ 𝕒 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕞𝕖 ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!jeongin x girlfriend!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: fluff/comfort

♡ Summary: Jeongin's the type of boyfriend who never makes you question how much he cares for you. Still, there's one nagging insecurity you haven't been able to move past: Letting him see you naked. Sick of letting your fear get the best of you, you decide that tonight's the night to finally open up to him and it turns out you might've been afraid of nothing all along.

♡ Word Count: 2.1k-ish

♡ Warnings: body insecurities, nudity, a lil making out, mentions of sex, jeongin loves to touch your body, praise, and just all around fluffiness otherwise

♡ A/N: This started out as an anon request but I lost the post for that request (brb crying) so now we have a lil I.N comfort fic that will hopefully make my chubby Jeongin biased babes feel good in their skin cause you totally deserve to.

Moments like these Jeongin wishes could last forever. Between touring, appearances, and studio sessions his schedule’s been brutal lately, leaving him with little to no time to spend with the one girl he treasures most in the world—you. But tonight none of that matters. The world beyond the walls of his apartment doesn’t exist. There’s only him cozied up under a blanket on the couch with you cuddled against his body, your head resting on his chest as you lazily play with the strings of his hoodie.

The room’s dark except for the glow of the television. A movie’s playing but neither of you are truly watching it. His eyes are glued to you, committing to memory how beautiful you are from this angle. You seem so comfortable in his arms, so at peace, and the feeling’s infinitely mutual. 

Your own gaze is fixed on the screen but every image and sound you take in is passive. What you’re truly focused on is a thought that’s been cycling through your brain all night. Before you left to head over here you told your roommate not to wait up, you’d be spending the night at Jeongin’s place. Never one to pass up the opportunity to tease you, she asked if you needed to borrow a sweater or something to sleep in. You instantly regretted admitting to her over drinks that Jeongin has yet to see you naked, even after months of being together.

Whenever you have sex you keep the lights off and throw your clothes back on immediately after. If you shower and he’s around you always make sure to bring your clothes with you into the bathroom. Even Jeongin, who never wears anything to bed, always has something on when you sleep over to make you more comfortable. 

It’s nothing he’s ever complained about or tried to make you feel guilty for. More than anything he just seems happy to be with you, accepting your boundaries without hesitation. It’s one of a million reasons you’ve come to love him as much as you do. Still, you know that hiding from him isn’t something you can do forever. It isn’t something that you want to do forever.

“Baby” he says sweetly, petting your cheek, “You ready for bed?”

You take a deep breath, making up your mind that tonight’s the night. Your stomach sinks at the thought of how he might feel when he sees your body but at least you’ll know now before you fall for him any harder.

“Mmhmm” you nod, nuzzling your cheek against his chest one last time before sitting up. 

Jeongin hops up and gets to work clearing the snacks from the coffee table. With full hands, he leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. “You can go ahead. I’ll meet you in there in a second, okay?” 

You agree and gather the blanket in your arms, trembling as you shuffle down the hall towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk but it feels eternal. You’ve stepped through this threshold a dozen times by now but somehow this feels like your first. Suddenly the oversized hoodie and baggy sweatpants that once shielded your insecurities have you sweating like a sinner in church. It’s suffocating.

Tossing the blanket onto the bed, you tug your hoodie off to feel the fresh air kiss your skin. The coolness eases the tension in your body, leaving your hands a bit less shaky as you slip your sweatpants down and kick them aside. You stare down at your body, taking in the sight of your bare legs and your fluffy thighs that are just barely visible in the long t-shirt you’re wearing.

Your chest tightens as you pinch the bottom of your shirt, lifting the fabric little by little. It slides above your thighs, around the contours of your hips, revealing the panties you chose specifically for tonight. They’re silk, rose pink, with a lace trim and a delicate bow in the back and they’re the prettiest panties Jeongin’s ever seen simply because you’re wearing them. 

“Did I, uh, miss something?” Jeongin asks, frozen in the doorway.

Usually when he walks into the room you’re already under the covers waiting for cuddles he’s beyond eager to give you. Being met with this is something new entirely and he can’t help the way his heart races at the sight of it. You turn to find him staring at you wide eyed, shock painting his face. 

“Well, uh, I…” you stutter, fidgeting with the trim of your shirt, “I know you don’t really like sleeping with your clothes on and the weather’s really nice tonight so I thought, maybe, it’d be nice if we did that.” 

Jeongin closes the distance between you, his shock melting into concern. He brings an arm around your waist, stroking your side as he studies your expression.

“Baby, I already told you I’m cool with our clothes being on. I never want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You rest your hand on his, soaking in the warmth of his touch. “It’s okay” you insist, immediately picking up on his skepticism. He doesn’t believe you for a second. You stare into his eyes, finding comfort in them even as they narrow in your direction. “I want you to see me, all of me, I don’t wanna be afraid anymore.”

“Afraid? Afraid of what? Did I…”

You cut him off before he can finish, refusing to let him believe for a second that there’s anything he did wrong. “No, Innie, you’re so good to me. It's just…I’m not the smallest girl. Feeling me is one thing but seeing me it’s…it’s…”

Your breath hitches at the sensation of Jeongin’s hands massaging your body. He smooths the plushness of your figure beneath his palms, stopping to squeeze your love handles, your belly, your thighs.

“Seeing you would be a gift” he whispers, his lips hovering near yours. “I’ve felt your body in the dark and I’m already addicted to how beautiful it is. If you take your clothes off or not, nothing will change. I promise.”

There’s no denying the rush that you get from being touched by him. You feel it every time, the impulse to let him tear your clothes off. The longing to feel his gaze dance over your naked body the way his hands do. Typically you fight it, your fears dulling your urges, but tonight you don’t. Instead you sweep him into a kiss laced with passion, guiding his hands to grip the fabric of your shirt. 

“Help me take it off, please” you beg, too cute to deny.

Jeongin nibbles at your bottom lip, “Only if you help me too.”

“Deal” you giggle as he steals your breath away, hungrily pulling you back into the kiss.

Your clothes are shed gently and slowly like the petals of a flower. One after the other, his and then yours. All the while Jeongin’s lips are drawn to yours like magnets. Every break he has to take is a small form of torture. You could kiss him every second of every day and it wouldn’t be enough. He needs to drown in it.

He can only bring himself to stop when he feels skin to skin contact. Your naked body’s pressed to his in the bright lighting of his room. He could see you if he wanted to, glance down and delight in the pleasure of something he’s only experienced in his imagination, but instead he focuses on your gorgeous face, his heart set on making sure this is what you really want.

“Can I look?” he asks, fingertips lightly trailing up and down your spine. 

You pause, pacing yourself for a decision you know you can’t turn back from, “It’s okay. You can look.” 

Time seems to stand still as Jeongin takes a step back and his gaze falls below your shoulders where your naked body awaits in all its vulnerability. His is the smooth, toned body that you already know it to be. You’ve caught glimpses of it here and there when he’s changed in front of you. And yours is beyond what he’d imagined during those long nights spent blindly exploring your form beneath the sheets.

At first he says nothing, does nothing. He only stares straight ahead, scanning you from head to toe. But just as the nervousness threatens to return he cracks a smile, his face lighting up, stars twinkling in his eyes.

“You’re beautiful.” He exhales the words as naturally as he breathes. 

You blush, a giggle escaping your lips, “Oh my gosh, stop it.”

“Stop it? How can I? Look at you.” 

Your self doubt wants to tell you that he’s lying—that these words you never imagined you’d hear couldn’t possibly be true—but you can’t deny the way Jeongin’s looking at you or the butterflies swarming your stomach. You try to bring your arms around yourself, a thoughtless attempt at hiding away again, but he grabs your hands, lacing his fingers between yours. 

“I mean it” he whispers, thumbs lightly grazing your skin, “Your body’s gorgeous and I feel lucky that you let me lay eyes on it. Thank you.” 

Your cheeks heat up and you dip your head down, too flustered by his words to maintain eye contact. Jeongin cups your cheek, tilting your head back up. He’s stubborn as always, refusing to let you escape his affection. 

“You think so too, don't you?” he asks, his lips floating back to yours. He almost kisses you, just almost, but lets his lips dance there, teasing you with their warmth. 

“Think what? I don’t…” you begin to speak but the feeling of his hands making contact with your belly steals away what was coming next. You let out the softest breath, bordering on a hushed moan. His touch always sets your soul on fire but this time there’s something different about it. Some new aspect of it that has your head all fuzzy and your knees going weak. 

“Think that I should feel lucky that I get to see you” he says, massaging the plush of your belly, “And grateful that I get to touch you.” 

He glides his palms down to your hips, taking indulgent handfuls of your curves as your body gives into his touch. Your fingertips run up his arm, feeling the ridges of his muscles as they flex with every breath. His body shivers, your quiet praise doing to him exactly what his does to you.

“You can’t say things like that, Innie.” 

“Why can’t I?”

“Because I might start believing it.”

Jeongin flashes you that dimpled smile, “Good. I want you to.” 

His lips collide with yours again and it feels like the whole room’s spinning because it is. He closes his arms around your waist, kissing you lovingly as he twirls you towards the bed. Before you know it your head’s resting on a pillow as your body sinks into the softness of the mattress. You can’t tell if it’s the mattress or the euphoria of Jeongin’s tongue tangled with yours but it’s like you’re floating on a cloud.

Jeongin kisses you like it’s the last time your lips will ever meet. His hands explore your body like they’re terrified to forget even the tiniest detail of what you feel like. The affection he pours into you is overwhelming yet you wouldn’t dare ask him to stop.

He saw you, everything about you, and the only place he ran to was your arms. You feel special, cherished in every way for exactly who you are. All your worries seem like nothing more than silly little things in the presence of his adoration. 

Finally breaking from the kiss, the necessity for air forcing your lips apart, Jeongin curls up beside you, keeping you in his arms as he slips a blanket over your naked bodies. You rest your head on his chest the same way you did on the couch, only now your mind isn’t wandering off somewhere far away. It’s right here with him, basking in the moment. 

“Promise not to hide from me anymore” he sighs, planting the sweetest kiss on your forehead. 

You relax into his arms, smiling as your heavy lids fall shut, “I promise.” 

You thought you’d feel more vulnerable lying beside him with your clothes in a pile on the floor but being like this with him is the safest you’ve ever felt, the most comfortable you’ve ever felt, in your own skin. Hide from him? And miss out on a feeling like this? Never again.

[roanofarcc]

ONE DANCE, PLEASE?

pairing: trevor lefkowitz x ghost bride!reader

summary: since your death, weddings at Woodstone have been a source of bitterness for you but that doesn’t stop trevor from attempting to cheer you up with a dance

word count. 1.6k || masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, mentions of death, dead!reader

a/n: this is my first ghosts fic so please be gentle! I love the idea of a ghost bride and debated on making it into an OC or reader story. I think I like having it be in little one-shots! it’s a crime more hasn’t been written for trevor (or any of the show’s characters). feel free to request for trevor or any other ghosts characters <3

“Are you going to mope around for eternity?” Sasappis asked you, standing arms crossed in front of a beautiful garden decorated to the nines. The backdrop to your sulking was stunning flowers tied in bunches and pastel dresses moving around the patio-turned-dance floor. 

“Is that not the point of being a ghost?” you replied, jutting out your feet forever stuck in kitten heels and skin-colored pantyhose. Sass lightly kicked your foot with his and nodded his head to the corner just off the dance floor where the rest of the ghosts danced and laughed. A part of you was jealous of how easily they enjoyed themselves at weddings and how they were not plagued with an eternal hatred for them and what they represented. 

It always felt like a cruel joke, even though it never had anything to do with you, when Sam and Jay hosted a wedding at their B&B. As much as you loved the couple, you couldn’t stand what most considered a joyous event. The union of two people in love, not tainted by tragedy, grew your restatement each time. Weddings were a part of the business and helped Sam and Jay bring in the money they desperately needed to fix up the mansion, but that didn’t mean you had to enjoy yourself. Instead, you spent each event sulking on the sidelines, ignoring the pang in your chest, and avoiding your ghostly counterparts' advances to cheer you up. The only thing that would’ve cheered you up was a do-over of your big day that was ruined by a strike of unluckiness, resulting in your untimely death.  

Sass narrowed his gaze at you but decided against saying whatever he wanted to. Instead, he turned on his heel and headed back to the ghosts. You adverted your gaze back down to the beads sewn into your dress, picking at them with the wish you could pull the garment apart with your hands, but since it was what you died in, it would forever stick to you. 

A slow song played through the DJ’s speakers as the sun slowly began to set over the yard. Strung lights glittered warmly, bathing the attendees in a golden glow. The bride had looked radiant since she arrived at the mansion days ago, and all day you had to watch her and her husband’s love run circles around you. Your malice wasn’t aimed directly at the happy couple, but rather at what they represented and the reminder of what you almost had. 

Someone appeared beside you, their presence clouding your solitude-sulking. “What a bunch of losers,” the person said, causing you to turn your head and meet Trevor. “I mean, seriously, this song was lame when I went to weddings and people are still dancing to it? I get the appeal of throwbacks but let’s pick this snooze-fest up a little, am I right?” 

You rolled your eyes. “What do you know about weddings?” 

“I happen to have been invited to a lot of them, thank you very much. Well, the receptions and bachelor parties, usually. Those weddings had a lot more alcohol and single bridesmaids.” You said nothing in response, hoping your dimly lit mood would shoo Trevor away. You were mistaken, though. If anything, your silence only encouraged him further. He moved in closer to your side, standing with his hands on his hips as he gazed out across the crowd. “I think they may need some help livening things up a bit. Care to join me?” 

He often tried to do that, brighten your mood by offering to dance with you. And every time you turn him down, not because you didn't want to, but because you’re worried that the second you start to enjoy yourself at a wedding, tragedy will follow a second time around. You liked Trevor and couldn’t stand the thought of enjoying yourself only to hurt yourself, again, or him. In your head, as long as you moped around, everything would stay the same as they were, which you loved more than you’d admit aloud. You liked your ghost-mates and you liked Sam and Jay. If you somehow brought some unfortunate curse upon any of them because you enjoyed yourself just as you had on your own wedding day, you weren’t sure you could cope with that a second time around, not when you hardly coped with it from the first time. 

“Trevor…” you sighed, defeated and slumped-shouldered. 

Normally, he dropped it after that. He usually sat quietly at your side until his excitement and urge to join the party overwhelmed him and he resumed dancing with Flower or attempting to play pranks on the livings with Thorfinn. That time, however, he took you by surprise. He moved directly in front of you, face set with a certain tone of seriousness that was odd. 

“Nope,” he said, simply. “You are not moping for eternity. I won’t let you.” 

“That’s not your choice.” 

He smirked, cheekily and annoying but stupidly charming. Those three words suited him too well. Trevor extended his hand out, making a grabbing motion with his hand. “One dance, that’s all I’m askin’. That’s all I need to change your mind.” You tightened your grip on the skirt of your dress, unbudging at his request. “One dance. Please?” His voice was a little lower, pleading almost. 

One dance. You never got to dance at your wedding. Something bad could happen, it probably would. 

Trevor’s fingers grazed your knuckles, tapping them lightly and looking at you in a way, underneath the golden light, that made you consider it. He noticed your hesitation and dropped his hand back down at his side. 

“Okay,” he said after a beat before he turned away with a little frown on his lips that made you feel even worse. 

There was something wrong with you, maybe it was some kind of ghostly side effect of dying on your wedding day; perhaps you were doomed to live in the murky waters of what-if and why. 

The bride and groom were in the middle of the patio dance floor, spinning each other around in quiet fits of laughter and bodies pressed as close as they could get with the bride’s fluffy dress. They were married, dancing as two halves of a whole with nothing bad lingering over their heads. There was no impending doom, aside from you sitting on the outskirts. The doom was you and your mind, rippled with jealousy, sadness, and a million questions of what exactly you could have done differently that day. But the truth was, there was nothing you could have done. Fate was fate, as Flower had once said in one of her more insightful conversations. Fate was messy and included bear attacks, arrows in necks, and accidents. Fate found you there, at the Woodstone mansion forever a fiancee but now entangled with the fates of your ghost friends who also found themselves there forever. 

Forever was such a long, made even longer with eternity hanging on your shoulders. How many more weddings would you sit there, watching and sulking in your own unhappiness that others wanted to fix for you? 

Something between a groan and a sigh left your lips as you stood up, letting your wedding dress fall back down to the ground in the pristine condition you had died in it in. “Trevor,” you said again, louder as you called after him. He stopped, slowly turning around with a confused quirk of his brow. You nervously picked at the beads again, but that time wasn’t to pick them off but rather settle them back in place in a similar way to how you had picked at them awaiting your turn to walk down the aisle. A dance was not nearly as monumental as that, but it carried a weight that pressed down on your chest. 

“One dance,” you said. He stared at you for a moment like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right. It wasn’t until Thor punched him in the arm with a hardy laugh and Hetty pushed him forward towards you. 

Trevor approached you, smoothing out his tie. “Really?” he asked. 

You nodded. “If anything bad happens, I’m blaming it on you," you said only half joking.

He smiled, wide and toothy and the way that made you subconsciously want to copy it. “The worst thing that’ll happen is me stepping on your feet. I haven’t slow danced since prom.” Despite that, he dramatically bowed and extended his hand. “May I have this dance,” he said in a terrible accent. You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, some of that weight lifting from where it hurt your chest. 

Once you accepted his hand, he all but dragged you to a quiet corner of the dance floor, away from where any livings would walk through you two, and away from the other ghosts and their suggestive smirks and comments pointed at the two of you. 

When you danced, with his feet clumsily trying to avoid stepping on yours and hands rested on your waist, nothing bad happened. You did not die a second time around, nor did tragedy strike in the way you feared. The only thing that occurred was dancing, peppered with occasional laughter and a quick apology when Trevor stepped on your skirt and halted your movements. You recovered with a shake of your head and a slight lead in the dance, which he didn’t voice but silently appreciated.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Forgotten friends

So I read a lot of ancient Y/N cookie stuff because why not and I decided to make my own. Bear in mind that this is a work of pure imagination and judgment will not be tolerated.

Long ago, You were baked along with 5 other cookies, an immense power created within you by the witches. You were all created to the purpose of protecting earthbread and providing guidance to those who resided within it. Knowledge, Volition, Change, Happiness, Solitude and Patience. All created for a great purpose.

Alas, great power always begets corruption. You watched as how your friends will crumbled onto their own strength one by one. You wished you had seen it sooner. Wish you had taken notice of their behavior changing and shifting into corruption. You wish you could've done something sooner. But you couldn't.

You felt... foolish, to put it kindly. All the signs had been there. More cases of injured cookies, more homes being destroyed out of nowhere, the constant plea from the cookies to be protected. But every time you asked who had hurt them, they never replied. You should've realized it sooner. What other cookies had powers strong enough to wipe an entire village out of existence and only leave ashes, flour, jam and crumbs as it's remains?

Regardless of not having seen it sooner, you knew something had to be done. You had to intervene, make them come back to their senses somehow. But every time you got the courage to even walk to their quarters, you never entered. You were scared of what your friends had become, a lot more than you would've liked to admit. Besides, there were five of them and one of you. Even if they haven't crumbled you already, they're still capable of doing it.

With little to no options left you were forced to seek out the help and guidance of the witches. Fortunately for you, they had already come up with a solution. The unfortunate part?

The solution was to seal them away.

You were unsure how to take in this information. Part of you wanted to plead and beg that they find another way. But the other part knew this was the only way to protect earthbread. With a heavy heart you agreed to lure your fallen friends into a trap. Did you like it? No, of course not. They were your friends. But did you have a choice? Also no. It was for the sake of earthbread.

"Are we there yet?" Shadow milk cookie asked, though it came out as more of a whine. You were leading them to the agreed spot where they'd be sealed, having promised them that you wanted to show them something.

"Patience, Milk. We'll be there soon." You said, followed by a soft chuckle. Though you knew that was only to hide your dread. Here you were, leading your friends into a trap, and all you could do was try to divert any suspicion by acting like everything was ok when in reality it wasn't. "We've been walking FOREVER! How far must we go to see this thing?" Burning Spice cookie complained. You had to fight hard to suppress that deep sigh gathering in your lungs. If this experience wasn't already dreadful enough, they had been complaining time and time again how long it was taking and you gradually grew annoyed of them. "Look, not my fault you don't have any wings to just fly there. We all could've been there ages ago if SOMEONE wasn't a wingless pepper, don't attack me!" You retorted. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again you snapped something else.

"And don't even THINK about bringing up Silent Salt cookie. I know he doesn't have wings but at least he ain't complaining!" Though you're not sure if it's cuz he won't or if he can't. Either way, Burning spice cookie let out a grumble of annoyance before keeping quiet.

"Hey can we-" Eternal Sugar cookie let out a long yawn as she stretched out like a cat before snuggling back into her soft pink clouds. "Can we like, take a break or somethin'? We've been walking for ages..."

"Your feet haven't even touched the ground since we left!"

"Mmmh, too much work."

Another deep sigh you forced to not surface out brew up in your lungs again. You hadn't realized what pricks your friends had become. They used to be so nice. Now they're just... Annoying. Though you can't really say you were surprised, seeing as they corrupted in general.

"Applying pressure on Y/N cookie is futile. Our journey will on prove to be more insufferable and longer if we continue to be uncooperative." You heard Mystic flour cookies dull voice say.At least SOMEONE wasn't breathing down you neck. You also couldn't help but realize that the only thing that seemed to be different about her was the fact that her voice held no annoyance in it.

Heck, it practically held no emotion in general. Regardless you found her more tolerable in this moment then the other three. It kind of stung though, knowing she along with the others were following you so willingly to their own demise. But it had to be done.

Finally, you made it to the spot. You told them to stand in specific spots, which they complied with. As you got out of the way, you looked over at them all. You felt your smile falter and your heart began to ache. So you were really doing this, huh? You didn't want this. Not at all. But you had to do this. Once you felt the witches about to begin you let out a shaky sigh.

"Forgive me... I never wanted this..." you said softly, but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Before they could react you watched five forks come down and imprison your friends, much to your displeasure and their shock. You turned away, unable to watch further. You tuned out their cries for your help. And without looking back, you walked away, your head hung low in shame and pain.

You hid yourself away and watched how the world around you changed. You now concealed your souljam as a pendant on your clothes and you concealed your identity. In fact, you changed it completely. You wondered for many days and night if your forgotten friends would ever forgive you.

Maybe... just maybe... with a lot of patience. Even if they did, nothing anyone said was gonna ever allow you to forgive yourself. Not even the light of patience would allow it.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ 5 more minutes ] l. hughes

paring : Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary : Luke’s girlfriend surprises him in Newark after his last college hockey game

warning(s) : none really. just very fluffy and emotional. also very short bc it was 1 am when i came up w this idea

author’s note : in honor of today being my last day as an ncaa student athlete, i quickly wrote this up. i was feeling very emotional and i needed a way to express how i felt. hence why we now have a very fluffy / emotional fic. some of the comments luke makes are some of my thoughts about how my own season ended yesterday. it’s kinda sad but it had to be done. you’re welcome (i think ?)

༺═──────────────═༻

Jack texts her when he has picked up his younger brother from the airport. She begins to pace around the living room of Jack’s apartment that he’s now going to be sharing with Luke.

She has no clue what state Luke is going to be in when he walks through the door. He’s probably going to be so pissed that he spent the last two minutes or so of his college career in the penalty box instead of on the ice or on the bench with his teammates. He’s been so busy traveling that he hasn’t had time to sit and reflect on the season.

That’s the reason that she hopped on a flight to Newark as soon as the clock hit zero against Quinnipac. She just wanted to make sure that he’s okay before he goes and signs his NHL contract in two days and joins Jack on the Devils.

Either he’s going to be really upset and pissed or he’s going to be excited to start the next chapter in his career. She has no idea which version of Luke she’s going to get.

Keys jingle in the door about a half hour after Jack texts her to let her know he has Luke. She stops pacing and stands in the middle of the living room. Her eyes are on the door as Jack pushes it open.

“… not really in the mood for any surprises,” Luke says as he walks through the door. “I’m so tired.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” Jack tells his brother as he shuts the door behind them. Luke drops the big duffel bag that contains his hockey gear on the floor by the door in the foyer area. Then he finally makes his way to the living room with his suitcase.

He freezes mid-step when he sees his girlfriend.

With a small wave and a smile, she says, “Hi, Lukey.”

Luke crosses the room in five strides because of his stupidly long legs. He envelops her in a hug and buries his face in her neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and they stand like that for what feels like an eternity.

She doesn’t mind. If it means that Luke’s okay then she’ll stand like this forever.

She presses soft kisses into his shoulder and whispers to him, “I’m so proud of you, Luke. So incredibly proud of you. I know that’s not how you wanted the season to end but you did everything you could, and for that I am so, so proud of you.”

A quiet sob wracks Luke’s body as he pulls back from the hug. She sees tears in his eyes and frowns. A couple roll down his cheek and she reaches up to wipe them away. Jack silently sneaks out of the apartment. He thinks he’s slick but she saw him leave behind Luke.

“I hated that I wasnt out there those last two minutes,” he tells her, voice shaky. “Maybe I could’ve done something that pushed the game into overtime or won it for us. Instead I was in the penalty box while my team had to fight even harder to get goals because they were down a man.”

“I know, baby,” she softly replies. “I wish I could’ve given you guys five more minutes. You all fought so hard. So fucking hard. I’m so sorry that’s how your season ended.”

More tears roll down Luke’s cheeks and she continues to wipe them away.

“I feel like I let them down,” he whispers. “I could’ve fought harder for them. For this season. I let them down when they needed me most and now I’m abandoning them.” His words break her heart.

She shakes her head and cups his jaw. “You didn’t let anyone down,” she tells him. “You did what you could in the sixty minutes you had. They know that and they will always remember how hard you fought for them. You’re so important to everyone on that team and you played such an important role in getting as far as you did as a team. They’re just as proud of you as I am because you are about to start an amazing new chapter in your hockey career. You aren’t abandoning them, Luke. They want you to move forward in your career. They understand that you’re ready and that this is what you want.”

Luke nods and wraps his hands around her wrists. She continues to look up at her boyfriend.

She’ll never understand how he feels because she isn’t an athlete. All she can do now is try to help him realize that he isn’t the worst teammate that he thinks he is at the moment. She doesn’t want him to have that mindset as he transitions from college to the NHL.

Losing is tough in any sport. She knows that much and she is going to make sure that Luke understands that it is okay to feel this way but that he also has to get ready to move forward.

“Thank you for being here,” he says after a moment of comfortable silence. “Sorry I’m such a mess. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“It just shows how much you love every team that you’re on,” she replies. “You dedicate so much time to hockey because you love it. You’re allowed to feel this way and feel it for a little bit. You do have a contract to sign in a few days so I’m giving you tonight to get out everything you feel about the Michigan season ended. Tomorrow, it’s time to get excited. I’m here to help you get excited.”

A smile finally cracks through the frown that’s been plastered on Luke’s face since he saw her. She dries his cheeks one more time before she pulls him back into a hug.

Luke presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. “I love you,” he says into her hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Shut up. Yes you do,” she retorts. “I love you too. Let’s go get you unpacked then we can take a nap because I heard you tell Jack how tired you are.”

When she pulls away from the hug and starts to walk to his suitcase, Luke grabs her hand and pulls her back to him. She looks up at him for a quick second before his lips are on hers. The kiss surprises her because of how emotional he is, but sometimes a kiss is all it takes to feel better.

She happily smiles into the kiss and runs her fingers through his curls as she returns it. It’s one of his favorite things she does so many he’ll start to feel better a little faster. Luke loves feelings her fingers in his curls. It’s the reason he doesn’t try to tame them.

The front door opens again and a voice says, “Okay, we are establishing some rules. Rule one, the door stays open three inches when your girlfriend is over. I don’t need any babies crying in my apartment at three in the morning right now.”

They both pull back and she looks behind Luke at Jack, who has a disgusted look on his face. She smiles but Luke’s cheeks turn a tomato red. She laughs and shakes her head.

“Rule two,” Jack continues. “No making out anywhere I can see you. That means the-”

“Jack!” Luke snaps. “I get it. We get it. Also, I’m not going to be leaving my door open three inches. If I want to have sex with my girlfriend then I’m going to. It’s my room and we split the rent now so I’ll do what I want.”

“None of that premarital kissing stuff where I can see or hear it,” Jack tells his brother. “I don’t need that in my life.”

She laughs and takes the opportunity to grab Luke’s bag and suitcase. “Don’t worry,” she says. “We won’t traumatize you. Again.”

Both Luke and his girlfriend laugh as they make their way to Luke’s new room, leaving a disgusted and definitely traumatized Jack Hughes in the living room.

༺═──────────────═༻

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[gor3-hound]

ETERNITY — SUGURU GETO

a/n: hiii !! first geto fic on this account maybe?? shocker bcs i love him so bad... commission for @nexysworld !! love her so bad, pls check her out <3

cw: 18+ content, father-daughter incest, possessive behaviour, sheltered reader, mildly dubious consent, yandere-ish themes, very teeny tiny amount of religious themes, too. p in v, creampie, brief choking

Suguru Geto is not a man you would consider to be unkind, but there was very little affection within his actions. Your father was often patient with you - strict, but forgiving. When he touched you, it was always cold and clinical; always born out of necessity. 

Your mother had always been irrelevant to him, nothing more than a means to an end. That just so happened to be you, his daughter, and one and only heir. He had sensed the cursed energy within you the moment you were born, and he took you in to raise you on his own. He had no need for that woman anymore - she had served her purpose and bestowed him with a gift greater than any other.

Your life was free of troubles. Perhaps you did not get to play with the village children, but that was alright. You were allowed to play with the others within the compound. His followers were always kind to you, if not somewhat on edge in your presence. You did not understand it then, but now you realised the apprehension they held did not stem from your actions, but from fear of upsetting your father. You had been sheltered, yes, but you found you did not crave much else. You were well-fed, well looked after… It was hard to feel caged when the compound was all you had known.

Your youthful naivety could not last forever, and Suguru knew this. He dreaded your growth with each passing year, waiting for the questions that would come. He could keep you from the outside world, but he could not keep the outside world from you. He had many visitors, people looking to be cured of their ailments. He could keep you from watching these interactions, but he could see the way your curious eyes shone as you watched them come and go.

You asked him about the outside world only once, shortly after he had ‘cured’ a young child. You had been excited to see someone closer to your age, but his words quickly shut you down.

“The child has been plagued with demons,” He had told you simply, eyes cold as he glanced down at you. “I can keep them at bay, yes. But it would not do you well to socialise with others such as him. They will corrupt you.”

It had not convinced you entirely, and he could see that in your eyes. With a small frown, he kneeled before you, tilting his head to the side. “I extracted one from him. Would you like to see it?”

You nodded, as expected. Hopeful curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the idea of being shown something new and dangerous exciting to you. He sighs, allowing the cursed spirit he had absorbed free. He had no worry - he knew it was safely under his control. But he could see the fear in your eyes as it stalked towards you, the way you instinctively backed up, glancing at your father for protection.

“Daddy-” 

He lets its maw open inches from your body, the acrid stench of its breath filling the room as it goes to attack. He watches, unblinking, as you tremble and beg for his help, tears streaming down your face. Even still, he waits a few more seconds before driving his cursed tool through the spirit, exorcising it with ease.

“Do you see now why I cannot let you outside? It is far too dangerous for you.” You nod, clinging to him as you sob into the fabric of his robes. He lets you, holding you close to him. “I do not wish to see you hurt. Promise me you won’t ask to leave the compound again.”

“I promise.”

The years pass, and you do not dare mention leaving the compound again. Even as you reach adulthood, the memory of the demon you faced as a child keeps you biting back any requests of more freedom.

Something in your father has changed - you’re not sure what it is, but it leaves you with a lingering sense of unease whenever you cross his path. His gaze has become sharper, watching your every movement like he’s waiting for something. What it is, you’re unsure of. Your pulse is constantly racing when you’re forced to be in his proximity for more than a few seconds, but your brain can’t register what it is about him that’s making you so tense.

Your realisation comes to you slowly. You’ve seen that look before in some of them men that have wandered around the compound. Not directed at you, but you’re able to identify it all the same. 

Hunger.

Your realisation doesn’t come with any changes in his actions, but you can see in the subtle curve of his lips that he knows. He can sense that you act differently around him. Geto is an intelligent man, and it’s clear he planned for you to find out from the start. Months pass by without any changes in routine. You rarely see your father unless he deems it necessary to address you, his followers often being the ones responsible for ensuring you attend meals and stay within the compound.

Then, suddenly, he comes to you.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you with a gentle caress on your cheek. It’s one of the most affectionate touches he’s given you since you were a little girl, fingertips gently brushing over your cheekbones. When you meet his eyes, your heart stops beating for a moment.

His gaze is anything but kind. His jaw is set tight, and in that moment you realised how naive you were to think ignoring his glances would be enough to keep him at bay. Seeing your eyes widen with fear is enough for a sharp grin to spread across his face, his hand shifting to grasp at your hair, tilting your head back harshly.

“You're looking so beautiful these days, sweetheart.” Suguru murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, free hand grasping at your hip. “I thought about resisting my impulses, but it’s as if you were made to tempt me. Pure, kind, beautiful. Forbidden fruit is always said to be the sweetest, but I had never thought temptation would come to me in the form of my very own daughter.”

You stiffen under him, hands pushing at his chest. He tuts disapprovingly, his fingers slackening as he pulls his hand from your hair. Suguru slides his fingers down the side of your neck, delicately wrapping around your throat before he squeezes.

“Shh, calm down. It’s only me, bunny.” He purrs the nickname, one he has not used in years in an attempt to soften you, It works, momentarily, but your muscles still feel fraught with tension. He leans down, fingers tightening around your neck in a warning as he presses his lips to yours.

His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you. He keeps the pace leisurely, almost teasing as he presses his chapped lips against yours, tongue coaxing your lips open. The hand on your hip slides under your shirt in a way that makes you jolt, immediately breaking the kiss.

“Daddy, wait-”

Suguru scoffs, raising a brow at you. “That makes you sound so childish. You're a big girl now, aren't you?”

“D-Dad?” You correct, feeling yourself squirm under his harsh gaze.

“Better.” He breathes out, lowering his head once more to lathe his tongue along the flesh of your throat, licking hotly at your quickening pulse beneath the skin. The hand on your bare slides higher, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until he’s cupping your breast, thumb brushing gently over your nipple. You gasp softly at the pleasure it brings, something that brings an unfamiliar heat searing through your veins as wetness pools in the gusset of your panties.

He grins at the gasp he draws from your lips, teeth gently nipping at your skin as he releases your throat. His thumb flicks over your nipple once more as he drags his other hand down, moving to feel the wetness seeping through your underwear.

“I promised I’d protect you, bunny, and I meant it.” He murmurs, tracing a finger down the middle of the dampened fabric. He feels you tremble as he brushes over your clit, so he presses down gently to hear you whimper.

“I meant it,” he repeats, “I won’t hurt you, I just want you to feel good. You trust me, don’t you?

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a threat. You felt that familiar sense of unease in the back of your mind. You hadn’t experienced these things before, but you weren’t clueless.  You knew this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be touching you like this, but as his thumb replaces his finger so he could gently rub circles into your clit, your apprehension melts.

“Good girl.” He praises, words smooth and sweet. His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes hone in on your cunt, slick with arousal that he caused. “Look at you.”

Shame burns your face as you close your thighs, attempting to hide yourself from his view. Suguru grabs your knees, prying your thighs away before sliding his body between them to keep them from closing again.

“What’s wrong? You said you trusted me, bunny. Why are you trying to hide from me?”

“I wasn’t, I… I’m sorry.” You reply, gaze dropping nervously. Your heart pounds almost painfully in your chest, feeling more ashamed for disappointing your father.

“I don’t want to punish you, darling. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He says quietly, his tone almost condescending. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he sinks a finger into your tight cunt, a groan rumbling his chest as he feels you squeezing the digit. “Such an innocent little thing. So tight and wet.”

Suguru pulls back briefly only to remove his clothing, settling between your legs once more. His thumb presses down the base of his cock, allowing himself to align the tip with your dripping hole. “This may hurt at first, but you need to relax for me. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, voice soft and nervous. Suguru presses forward, sliding himself inch by inch inside of your tight heat until his cock is pressed to your cervix. Tears prick at your eyes from the sudden burn, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as he pauses to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Shh, shh. You’ll be alright, bunny. Your body was made for me, after all. It will feel good soon.” He promises, gently rocking his hips. “My sweet girl. I’d never have another have you like this. No, it has to be me. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

He tries to be gentle with you - he has no intention to hurt his sweet little girl - but the way you squeeze around him feels divine. He’s sure he’s never felt anything so perfect before, feeling as though he’s being driven mad as your slick walls cling to his cock, sucking him greedily every time he starts to pull out. Suguru is not one to lose control, but he can’t find it within himself to hold back as he starts to fuck into you with earnest, pounding you into the mattress until you’re crying out with every thrust.

His hand falls to rest on your pelvis, thumb brushing your clit in a way that makes you mewl, arching into his touch. He grunts as you squeeze tighter around his cock, his hips stuttering as he rubs circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck, and he slams into you harder, bruising your cervix each time his hips snap forward. You’re so tight and warm and perfect around him, and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last inside of you.

He watches through hooded, lust-glazed eyes as your body coils up tight, the prettiest moans and whimpers spilling from your hips as you come undone around his length. His teeth clench at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, the grip on your hip turning bruising as he fucks into you erratically, chasing his own release. His hips stutter before he stills, spilling deep inside of you with a low groan. His eyes squeeze shut, hand falling away from your clit to grip the sheets as he floods you with his cum.

“There we go, bunny.” He murmurs softly as he returns to himself, slowly pulling out of you. He sighs shakily, brushing some hair from your face. “You’re mine forever, darling. I’m never letting you stray from my side.” 

His tone alone assures you his words are a promise.

[a-araiguma-a]

He loved only her

No one in particular, just an elf from the universe of J. R. R. Tolkien. Elf x f!reader

In the ancient forests of Middle-earth, where tall trees concealed the sky, there lived an elf. His people were as eternal as the forest itself, and their hearts were rarely clouded by mortal emotions. But one day, he met a woman—a simple, human, mortal woman. There was something about her that made his heart beat faster: her beauty, which could neither be captured by the finest poets nor sung by the greatest musicians, her mind, so unlike that of other humans, filled with thoughts, ideas, and philosophy, or her eyes, in which one could drown if they gazed too long. It was something he could not understand, but this only made his love grow deeper.

"Cormamin lindua ele lle"—he always wanted to tell her that his heart sang at the sight of her, but it was not the right time, not yet. From the moment of their first meeting, he sought her out and waited for her in this forest every day when the sun's rays gently touched the ground, filtering through the thick foliage.

She told him about her world, about the brief lives of humans, about how they lived and died, dreaming and suffering.

"Lle naa vanima,"—he blurted out one day, not even realizing when he had said it: "You are beautiful." "What did you say?"—fortunately, she didn't understand his words, and that saddened him. It was not enough for him to meet her in the evenings; he longed to extend their conversations, to stretch them out for an hour, two, or forever. He listened to her stories, captivated not by the words themselves but by how her voice filled the emptiness in his soul. Without her, he would never have known the need to fill it.

"Tua amin!"—But did he need help? Did he need to be saved from her? Honestly, no, he was ready to drown in her eyes, ready to die if only to meet her once more. He was ready for anything...

But the Elf did not know how to tell her about his feelings. He understood that the time she gave him was limited, and each moment with her was precious. But how could he explain this? How could he tell her that his heart, which had always been eternal and free, now belonged to her? "The more you love someone," he thought, "the harder it is to tell them." "Nin lithiach, Meleth nín"—she truly enchanted him every time he saw her, even in his thoughts. His beloved. "Guren mil gaim lín"—his heart was in her hands—"Tessa sina ten’ amin"—he asked her to keep it, but in truth, she was free to do with it as she wished, as long as it was her.

And she accepted him. She had loved him too, ever since then, but she understood that it would be difficult for him; her life was short, and what would happen afterward, when she left him? She was ready to weep over such a truth. "Amin uuma malia, Arwen en amin"—it didn't concern him. Being with her and having her even for a moment was already enough. The chance to call her his—that was his happiness. His Lady, who ruled his heart and mind.

As the years passed, she began to talk more often about parting, though it pained the elf to hear it, he couldn't disagree. "When the day comes that we part," she said quietly, "if my last words aren't 'Amin mela lle,' you'll know it's because I didn't have time." In those moments, he remained silent, lost in thought, unable to find the words to express that his love knew no bounds of time. "Meleth e-guilen, my love is selfish. I can't breathe without you,"—she was the love of his life. How could she speak of them parting, not seeing her, not inhaling her scent in the mornings, no more afternoon conversations about books, about how Ellen had messed up her work again, no more seeing her smile, or those gentle eyes full of love for him... "Aa’ lasser en he coia orn n' omenta gurtha!"—Let the leaves of her tree of life never wither, he prayed. Just a little longer, he wasn't ready yet, but how could he stretch this time?

But when the fog enveloped the forest, and the cold wind brought with it a premonition of farewell, the elf finally spoke what was in his heart. He took her hand and said: "I was destined to live a thousand years, and I belong only to you for all those years. If we were to live a thousand lives, I would want you to be mine in every one of them." She looked at him, and a tear glistened in her eye. She knew their time was running out, but these were the words she believed in more than anything in the world.

For the elf's love was as eternal as the forest itself, and he continued to love, despite their parting, carrying his feelings for her through the years and ages of his life.

"Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’"—My heart will wait until it sees you again. "Le me ithon anuir"—I will love you forever. "Quel kaima"—Rest well.

[dimalry]

Second you in loving depressed, dark circle, chronic insomniac Azriel with demonic possession undertones. I feel like often he’s portrayed as very soft uwu baby or dark daddy dom when really he’s a workaholic grouchy introvert with a fucked up sleep schedule.

Do you think he has any connections to Hel in the larger Maasverse? I’ve had a theory for a while that he’s a descendant of one of the princes which would explain how he ended up with Truth-Teller.

Anyway, just want you to know that I picture your version of both Az and Gwyn when I write in canon, so thanks for the inspo!

Yes, absolutely! Though I’ve never thought of what kind of connection Azriel might have to Hel until now. Your ask got me to think…

What if Shadowsingers, rare as they are, were actually created by one of the Princes of Hel? I wish Truth-Teller wasn’t Gwydion’s twin, but rather a long-forgotten weapon once wielded by a long-dead Prince of Hel. Azriel could have discovered it eons later, feeling a strange connection to it, as it was the very weapon responsible for birthing his kind.

(Excuse my poor attempt at drawing shadow- soldiers/beasts. This is basically what I had in mind. This too)

Let’s say Shadowsingers were once a single shadow entity. But over time they split, with shadows becoming just one part of a person rather than their whole form.

A good number of them remain in Hel, but they've transformed into strange, nasty creatures. In Prythian, there are hardly any left, and Azriel may be the last. There are a few in Throne of Glass and Crescent City worlds, but they differ from Azriel.

It is very difficult to find any information about Shadowsingers. No one knows where they come from or how they came to be.

Who gave them the title 'Shadowsinger' anyway? What if it was simply a fitting name given by a mad scholar who first encountered someone with dark, shadow powers? What if these soldiers originally had a different name, given to them by the long-dead Prince of Hel?

And let’s give Shadowsingers the ability to shapeshift. I’ve always found it strange that Azriel is considered the best spymaster in the world, yet everyone knows he’s the Night Court's spymaster, which defeats the whole purpose of being a spy. It’s like imagining a Russian spy working in an American office, and everyone there knows he's a Russian spy. (Lol)

But what if Azriel could change his identity through his shadows? That would truly make him the best spymaster. He wouldn’t need to go through the trouble of creating fake identities; he could simply turn himself into one of Beron’s personal guards. People might know who the Night Court’s spymaster is, but they’d never know when or who he’s pretending to be. Additionally, he could winnow through his shadows instead of using the typical method. By commanding his shadows, he could transport himself anywhere, making him even more powerful than Rhys in terms of winnowing. He wouldn’t need to pause for breath like Rhys; he could take 10 people with him effortlessly.

Connect that to the shadow soldiers from Hel. They used to transform into whatever they liked (like this) and winnow with ease, which is why the war went on for like forever. The prince’s army was incredibly difficult to take down.

Shadowsingers still speak the language of Hel to this day. Azriel uses it to communicate with his shadows, and only Shadowsingers can understand this language—no one else. They don’t even have to learn it.

Okay, wait—can we consider that the winning side was the mother, leading her own army? That Gwydion was wielded against the Prince of Hel? Thus, the Maas universe was forged from the remnants of that eternal war ages ago.

And while Gwyn isn’t related to the sword like Azriel is to the dagger, nor to the soldiers who fought for the mother, as a priestess who worships her, she does have that little connection.

It would be quite amusing for the Fates to pair a descendant of those Hel creatures with a priestess who worships the Mother as mates.

Good god, I somehow pulled this out of my ass. Now I have to incorporate that idea into my story cause it‘s kind of awesome.

Anyway, I’d Iove to read your fic. It makes me happy to know that people use my art as inspiration 🥹

thank you for the ask! Have a lovely day 💕

[gliphyartfan]

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Hello! It’s that spooky time of year again! Ahh if only every month was as awesome as this one.

Ah well.

I got a long one for you folks! I guess it’s spooky?

….well I hope it’s spooky in SOME parts.

Anywho, I hope you enjoy and reblog!

———

————

—————

(Y/N) stumbled through the dimly lit dungeon, each echoing step reminding her that she was very much alone at the moment.

The cold stone walls seemed to close in with every corner she turned, each room only leading to more dead ends, puzzles, the occasional trap, and some monsters that were thankfully not smart enough to follow her out of the rooms.

She cursed under her breath, wishing she’d been able to fight back better when she was taken, but her priority then had been protecting the villagers, not herself.

If not that, then at the very least she wished she had been carrying the bag of food Wild had given her. She doesn’t know how long it’s been but she was very hungry and starting to become very thirsty.

She could already see Sky and Hyrule tearfully check her over for injuries.

Wild would certainly be devastated that she hadn’t had anything to eat.

Oh, the guilty faces on the others. It’ll take forever for her to calm them down. (Maybe they’ll visit Malon or Sidon soon so they can all take a well. She was hoping for Rito Village, she missed Tulin.)

Still, she couldn’t simply sit around and do nothing, so hours of struggling, deciphering strange symbols, avoiding monsters, and solving puzzles that seemed crafted to mock her lack of combat skill, she found herself in a new room.

This one was different. Unlike the others, it was lined floor to ceiling with mirrors on one wall. She took a step in, eyeing her tired reflection, hair messy and clothes disheveled.

She looked a mess.

…Eh, what else was new?

Looking around, the room itself sadly offered no obvious clues.

No symbols, no markings, just switches through out the room in an odd manner. She walked toward one of them, pressed it, and waited.

Nothing.

Puzzled, she glanced around, feeling a surge of frustration. Her reflection stared back, and for a moment, it almost seemed like it was staring back at her.

She shook her head, dismissing it as exhaustion.

(Y/N) limped around the room, a sharp sting pulsed from a scrape on her leg, reminding her of how close she’d come to being caught in one of the traps in the previous rooms.

Frustration gnawed at her, but she was too tired to figure out another approach (all she really wanted to do was sleep but she didn’t know if she was under a time limit so she refused to take a break.) so she turned and began to pace, her mind muddled.

She didn’t notice at first, but as she moved, there was a slight lag in her reflection.

Almost like someone was attempting to stay in sync with her.

When she stopped suddenly to wipe sweat from her forehead, her reflection took an extra heartbeat to do the same.

In her exhaustion, she barely registered it, chalking it up to her weary, overstimulated mind playing catch up.

She kept trying, over and over, to find a way to trigger the switches. Her body felt like lead, and her thoughts swirled in circles, too frazzled to make sense of the oddities around her.

After what felt like an eternity, something nagged at the edge of her consciousness.

She was about to try the switches again when a flicker of sudden movement in the mirror caught her eye. She stopped, staring at her reflection, really looking at it this time.

The reflection stared back with the same tired expression. She eyed it for some time, but then closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.

“You’re losing it. Just finish this up and you can get to bed.” She muttered to herself.

When she took a step back to move towards the next switch, her reflection didn’t quite mirror her. Instead, it stepped forward. (Y/N) froze, having caught its movements, watching closely.

Cautiously, She tested it again, taking a step left; her reflection stepped right.

Right towards a switch that (y/n) herself wasn’t currently near.

With hesitation, she moved her hand so her reflection reached for the switch, and she made motion like she was activating the switch and with surprise watched as the switch both in the reflection and out of it were pressed down.

After a few tries, and getting a few switched to stay down before she messed up, she realized this might be the solution.

With cautious optimism, she began experimenting, watching as her reflection seemed to interact with parts of the room she couldn’t reach.

She started moving carefully, mimicking the steps she thought would activate mechanisms on the other side of the room, using her reflection’s actions to interact with the room’s switches.

After what felt like an eternity, and several missteps, she managed to press down all the necessary switches.

With a creak and a soft rumble, the door at the far end of the room swung open.

Relief surged through her, and she slumped against the wall, barely able to believe she’d managed to clear it. She took a shaky breath, the tension in her shoulders easing as she staggered toward the exit.

She hoped the others weren’t panicking too much.

——-

——

A man bolted through the twisted, desolate forest, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The once proud trees were skeletal and lifeless, their branches clawing at the sky like silent sentinels as he stumbled over twisted roots and tried to evade his relentless pursuer.

Behind him, a snarl was heard that sent a shiver down his spine.

The large Wolf was at his heels, tearing through the trees with bloodthirsty determination.

The man dared a glance over his shoulder, only to see glowing, predatory eyes fixated on him, burning with an intensity that promised retribution.

A sharp growl echoed through the trees, closer than before.

Heart pounding, the man pushed himself harder, ducking beneath low, hanging branches, hoping he could reach the old ruins he’d stumbled upon earlier. If he could lose the Wolf there, he might have a chance to slip back into the cover of darkness and vanish.

But every escape route was cut off by the Wolf’s relentless pursuit. The massive Wolf barely slowed, weaving through the underbrush with an agility that belied his size.

The Wolf’s fangs flashed in the moonlight as he snapped at the man’s heels, forcing him to stumble and regain his footing in desperation.

All he could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the rustling of dead leaves beneath his feet, and the increasingly menacing growls from behind him.

Every direction felt suffocatingly bleak. He chanced a glance back, hoping to see distance between himself and his pursuer, but fate had other plans.

Suddenly, the pounding of hooves echoed through the darkness. He turned forward just in time to see a powerful figure atop a steed blocking his path. His single eye sharp and cold, his gaze unyielding. Behind him, his companion perched with ease, an arrow nocked and drawn in his bow, the sharp tip aimed directly at the man.

The man skidded to a halt, every muscle in his body taut with panic.

Cornered, he quickly raised a hand, gathering what little magic he could muster.

His fingers crackled with dark energy, and with a desperate cry, he hurled a blast toward the ground, sending up a gust of dirt at the two and creating a fleeting gap between himself and his captors.

He stumbled through the opening, sprinting forward, his lungs burning with renewed hope. He only managed several feet, however, before his escape was abruptly cut off.

A wall of ice erupted in front of him, glistening and deadly. The cold bit into his skin as the ice solidified, forming an unyielding barrier.

He turned, wide-eyed, only to see another one approaching a few paces behind him, holding an ice rod with grim determination in his eyes. His face was set in an expression of pure, seething anger.

Legend’s grip on the rod was tight. He took a step forward, his boots crunching over the frost covered ground as the ice wall stretched higher, trapping the man in a freezing cage.

The man’s gaze darted frantically from Legend to the others, searching for any remaining avenue of escape.

But Time, still seated on Epona, watched him with a steely gaze, and Wild, with his bow drawn, made it clear that there was no mercy to be given.

The man staggered, his monstrous features flickering back to his human guise as he dropped to his knees before a pair of boots, a sword swiftly pointed at his chest.

He clasped his hands together as he looked up at the person before him, a look of desperate pleading on his face, trying to mask the terror in his eyes.

“Please… spare me,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “I was only following orders. I—I didn’t want to harm anyone, not really. I was manipulated against my will! Let me go, and I swear you’ll never see me again.”

Hyrule watched him in silence, his sword still aimed at the man’s chest. His expression was cold, unreadable, unmoved by the pathetic display before him.

After a pause, Hyrule’s gaze hardened, and he spoke in a voice tinged with quiet scorn.

“Spare you?” he murmured, a hint of bitterness creeping into his tone. “I’ve been hunted by monsters like you my since I killed your master. Do you think my time away would make me forget the monsters hiding behind a human face?”

The man’s face faltered, but he kept his guise, his hands trembling. “I—I was only—”

Hyrule narrowed his eyes, snapping his fingers, summoning a crackling bolt of lightning that struck the man’s body.

The man screamed, his human facade breaking for a moment to reveal his true, hideous form beneath.

“Where is she, servant of Ganon” Hyrule demanded, his voice steady, unforgiving. “Where is the girl you took?”

The servant shuddered, but when he looked up again, a bitter smile twisting his human guise to something monstrous. “You can torture me all you want, hero, but you’ll never find her. My comrades will come for me, and when they do—”

Another snap of his fingers and the servant screamed again.

The servant sneered despite its trembling form, an arrogant grin twisting his lips as he regained some semblance of composure. “You think you’ve won, hero?” he spat, his voice laced with mockery. “You may have me cornered, but Ganon’s power will rise again, and when it does, I’ll be the one standing over your broken body.”

He let out a laugh, cold and confident,

Yet Hyrule did not seemed phased.

Suddenly something heavy thudded to the ground before the servant.

Laughter fading as his gaze dropped, and he saw several severed, bloodied monster heads rolling to a stop at his feet, their lifeless eyes staring back at him. His smirk wavered as he recognized his comrades, though he quickly forced it back, trying to hide his unease.

The servant’s arrogance remained, until a growl reminded him of the beast that chased him all this time.

Fur matted with dirt, leaves, and splats of monster blood.

Blue eyes gleamed as he padded forward, dragging a struggling, terrified human in his jaws.

With a strong jerk of his head, the wolf tossed the human to the ground before the servant, his fangs bared and eyes aimed at their throat.

The servant involuntarily flinched back, his face paling as Warriors stepped into view. The captain’s gaze was cold, and he glanced between the servant and its cowering ally.

“So,” Warriors remarked, his tone dripping with mockery, “these are the allies you seemed so confident about?” He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

The servant’s arrogance faltered, but he tried to steel himself, shifting back to his human guise, though the nervous gleam in his eyes betrayed him.

Hyrule took a step closer, his sword still aimed directly at the servant’s chest, his expression as cold and unforgiving as stone.

“Last chance,” Hyrule said, his voice dangerously calm. “Where is the girl you kidnapped? Tell me, or you’ll meet a worse fate than your comrades.”

The servant’s eyes darted to the still faces of the severed monster heads, a flicker of fear breaking through his composure. But he kept his mouth shut, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Hyrule’s gaze sharpened, and without a word, he gave a small nod to Wolfie. With a low growl, the wolf lunged forward and tore into the human’s neck, savagely tearing a chunk off without hesitation.

Blood soaked the ground, the servant’s face paling as he watched the blood spill out from his convulsing ally.

Warriors, expression unchanging, approached and swiftly ended the human’s suffering with a single, decisive strike, his blade piercing their skull with a sickening crunch.

“…huh…I don’t think I got the man’s name.” The servant heard him mutter.

Hyrule turned his gaze back to the servant, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Now, one last time,” he said, his voice as frigid as the air around them. “Where is she?”

The servant swallowed hard, his confidence shattered as he stared at the heroes surrounding him.

The servant swallowed hard, his once-defiant smirk twisting into something more uncertain as he glanced between Hyrule’s cold gaze and the lifeless body of his ally sprawled at his feet. His voice trembled as he stammered, “Y-You… you can’t kill me if you want to know where the girl is!”

A low, menacing snarl rumbled through the clearing as Wolfie’s blue eyes fixed on the servant, his teeth bared, each slow step forward an unspoken threat.

The servant’s confidence wavered further, his eyes widening as Wolfie came closer, fangs glinting in the dim light.

“Wolfie. Stand down,” came Time’s calm, commanding voice.

Wolfie stopped, his growl still low in his throat, but he didn’t take his eyes off the servant. The monster let out a shaky, nervous laugh, attempting to cling to what little advantage he thought he had.

“If you want to know where she is,” the servant said, his voice wavering but laced with a weak, desperate arrogance, “you’ll have to let me live. I’ll tell you nothing if I’m dead.”

The heroes exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, while the servant’s feeble laughter echoed in the silence. He thought he’d secured his leverage, convinced he’d forced their hand.

But Hyrule’s gaze remained icy, unbothered by the servant’s feigned confidence, as if weighing his options with a detached patience that only unnerved the creature further.

Hyrule took a slow, almost unnervingly casual step forward, his eyes fixed on the servant.

There was something unsettling in the way he looked down at the creature, as if he could see right through the guise, peeling back every lie, every trick, and seeing the monster true face beneath.

His sword crackled with magic, the fire creeping down the blade in flickers of light that danced in the darkened forest.

“You know, I’ve spent most of my time as a Hero being hunted by creatures like you,” Hyrule murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word seemed to linger, chilling the air. “Monsters that crawl out from under Ganon’s shadow, pretending to be human, to be kind. Just so they can hunt me down. They play their little games, slipping into disguises, deceiving… lying.” His gaze seemed to bore into the servant’s soul. “You’re all the same, thinking it’ll hide the fact that you won’t stop until my corpse is presented to your master.

He frowned further, “But despite your efforts I’m still alive. So do you really think I’ll just take your words at face value?”

The servant’s sneer faltered, but he quickly forced an arrogant grin, clinging to his act. “You need me,” he said, his voice wavering. “If you want to see the girl again, you’ll let me leave. I’m the only one who knows where she is.”

But as he spoke, a presence appeared behind him, and his bravado wavered. Legend approached with a calm, cold demeanor, his gaze fixed on the servant as he tapped one of his ring covered fingers against the ice rod in his hand, a slow, rhythmic motion that seemed to echo through the silence.

The servant’s grin faded entirely as Legend circled him, finally coming to stand before him, his eyes hard and unreadable. The faint clink of his ring tapping against the ice rod was the only sound.

“Clever plan,” Legend said, his voice low and calm, a chill lacing each word. “Planting your human allies to provoke the monsters, stirring things up just enough to create chaos.” He tilted his head, his gaze unwavering as he continued tapping his finger on the ice rod. “And then, of course, there’s you. Waiting until just the right moment to take her, knowing she’s important to us.”

He looked and nodded towards Hyrule, “I can see why you consider them a threat and nuisance.”

The servant’s arrogant expression crumbled further, but he kept his jaw clenched, his eyes darting between Hyrule’s unsettling stare and Legend’s cold gaze.

“And did you genuinely think,” Legend continued, his voice as sharp as a blade, “that we wouldn’t have considered the possibility? That we wouldn’t be prepared for one of Ganon’s creatures trying to steal her away?”

Legend’s voice trailed off, his cold, unblinking gaze fixed on the servant, who was now visibly shaken, his confident facade crumbling under the weight of Hyrule’s unsettling stare and Legend’s calm, piercing words.

The servant’s arrogance faltered as his breathing quickened, his eyes darting desperately, looking for any escape.

Then, a sudden rustle caught Wolfie’s attention. His ears perked up, his gaze shifting past the servant, alert and focused.

Just then, Wind’s voice cut through the silence, the young hero sprinting toward the group. Sky followed closely behind, slightly breathless as he called out, “We found out where she is!”

The servant’s face paled, panic flashing across his features as the words registered in his head. His eyes snapped back to Hyrule and Legend, who watched him with a deadly calm.

“Seems you’ve lost your leverage,” Hyrule murmured, his tone low and almost mocking, a faint, unnerving smile tugging at his lips.

Legend, still tapping his ring-less finger against the ice rod, allowed a slow, grim smile to creep onto his face. Without another word, he raised the rod, cold energy shimmering in his hand as he prepared to freeze the creature in his tracks.

But the servant’s eyes gleamed with a final, desperate resolve.

Just as Legend began to cast, the servant raised his hand, whispering the incantation under his breath. With a surge of magic, light burst around him in a blinding flash.

The heroes recoiled, squinting against the glow, which began to shift erratically, crackling with strange, distorted energy.

A strange, twisted sound echoed through the forest, a dissonant hum that grew louder until it abruptly cut off.

As the light faded, silence fell over the clearing once more. The servant was gone.

But lying on the ground where he’d stood, blood pooling around it, was a severed arm, its fingers still twitching, the botched remnants of a teleportation spell gone horribly wrong.

“Well…” Wild says as he puts his bow away. “That was unfortunate.”

“You think he’s still alive somewhere?” Twilight asks, having shifted back.

“Perhaps, but with an injury like that? Not for long. Then again it is a monster.” Warriors mutters as Wind and Sky approach.

“You said you located her?” Time asks, moving the discussion to the most important matter.

Sky nods, “Four is currently looking for a way in as the entrance has been sealed off.”

“It’s a distance away, it’ll take a while to reach there.”

“Then we best make haste. Let’s move.”

——-

——-

The group regrouped with Four at the edge of the dense forest, where he was examining the cracked stones and charred remains of what must have been an ancient entryway, the dungeon a distance away.

Four looked up, his expression serious. “The entrance to the dungeon was destroyed,” he reported, nodding toward the rubble. “Sealed with magic. Something powerful must have triggered it. I couldn’t find a direct way in, but I took note of some lingering trails. They lead down toward a back path.”

The others exchanged glances, concern etched on their faces. If the entrance was blocked, it left her with few options for escape.

After some quick discussion, they moved together, heading toward the ruins of the dungeon’s entrance, their steps quickening with urgency.

But as they neared the foot of the crumbling stairway, a soft glow appeared above the dungeon entrance, illuminating the darkness with a gentle, pulsing light.

They halted, watching in stunned silence as the ball of light floated down to rest on the ground, growing brighter for a moment before it faded.

And there, standing in its place, was (Y/N), blinking and rubbing her eyes as though adjusting to the sudden light.

“(Y/N)!” Wind exclaimed, breaking the spell of shock. In a heartbeat, they all rushed to her, their expressions a mix of relief and astonishment.

Hyrule’s eyes filled with worry as he reached for her shoulders to steady her, while Wild checked for any signs of injury.

“Are you alright?” Time asked, his voice heavy with concern. “Are you hurt?”

(Y/N) looked a bit dazed but managed a tired smile. “I’m okay. I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

Without hesitation, they led her away from the dungeon’s ominous entrance, moving quickly to distance themselves from any potential threats still lurking within.

Hyrule scanned the area ahead until he spotted a small, concealed cave where they could rest. Once inside, he knelt beside her, carefully tending to the scratches and bruises she’d collected, while Wild rummaged through his pack, pulling out a flask of water and a prepared bowl of food, pressing both into her hands.

“Here, you must be starving,” Wild said softly, watching as she gratefully accepted.

As she ate, they gathered around her, their curiosity mixed with lingering concern. Time was the first to speak up. “How did you escape? What happened in there?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath, steadying herself as she recalled her journey. “It was… something alright,” she admitted, a slight shiver in her voice. “The dungeon had rooms filled with monsters, and I couldn’t fight them, so I had to sneak around and hide. It was nerve-wracking, but I managed to make my way through.”

“Wait…” Four said, eyes furrowed, “But I made you a spear, and I know Legend had it charmed to shrink.”

(y/n) hesitated, “It…” she sighed, “It broke a week ago when I was practicing with it.”

“What??”

“Well you guys kept saying you were busy and I wanted to practice-“

“Your weapon broke and you didn’t TELL me? You’ve been walking around without a way to defend yourself this whole time??” Four had not spent weeks having arguments with everyone in regards to her training just for her NOT to have one of his weapons at hand.

“I’m sorry. I was stupid I didn’t think it would matter if I held back on telling you for a week or two.”

Four’s mouth was in a firm line, as if he was withholding a scream, all he did was wave his hand at her.

(y/n) ducked her head, knowing exactly what he was motioning to.

This whole situation was really making her eat her words.

The others listened, exasperated and frustrated, but very grateful she’d made it out despite her lack of weapons and combat skills.

“What about the dungeon boss?” Warriors asked suddenly, brows knit in confusion. “No doubt there had been one. How did you get past it?”

(Y/N) paused, looking genuinely puzzled. “That’s the thing… when I finally reached the main chamber, it was already dead. It was just…lying there, slowly vanishing.”

Their expressions were as confused as her’s, before any of them could ask further, (Y/N) reached into her pouch and pulled out a small, shining object.

“Oh, and there’s this,” she added, holding up a heart container, its faint glow illuminating the cave.

She looked down at it, her brow furrowing in thought. “I have no idea what to do with this.”

“. . .”

“…I’m gonna keep it though.”

Sighs, both fond and exasperated were heard all around the group.

———

———

The servant reappeared in a flash, collapsing onto his knees, his single remaining hand clutching the bloody stump of his severed arm. Pain seared through him, and he gritted his teeth, rage twisting his face as he spat out curses between gasping breaths.

“Those cursed heroes,” he snarled, his voice trembling with fury and agony. “I swear… I’ll have my vengeance… they’ll all pay for this…”

He took several deep breaths, steadying himself, and finally lifted his head, blinking through the pain as he tried to orient himself.

The world around him was dark, an eerie emptiness stretching in every direction. Shadows flickered along unseen walls, as though he had stumbled into another dimension entirely. Confusion mingled with his fury as he turned in place, searching for any sign of familiarity

“Is this…?”

Then, he froze.

In the darkness, a pair of glowing eyes appeared, twin points of orange light that pierced through the shadows and fixed on him with an unsettling intensity.

The servant jerked back in surprise, scrambling backward and landing hard on his back, his pulse racing as he looked up at the figure hovering in the air before him.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Their head was a carved pumpkin, hollow eyes glowing with an eerie light that pulsed with every subtle movement.

A jagged grin was carved into the pumpkin’s face, creating an unnervingly cheerful expression.

The figure was draped in a loosely flowing tunic, dark fabric adorned with faint, shimmering patterns that seemed to ripple as they floated in the air. Their arms, slender but steady, rested on their stomach as their shoulders shook with silent laughter.

Their entire being exuded a mischievous energy, a playful malice that somehow felt both childlike and ancient.

They leaned back as if reclining on air, their form bobbing slightly as if suspended by invisible threads. Their mirthful shaking only added to the strange, almost surreal image.

The servant’s breath caught in his throat, unable to process what he was seeing. He’d encountered many dark creatures in Ganon’s service, but this… this was something else entirely. Theirs eyes, those glowing, mirthful eyes, seemed to see right through him, dissecting him with a kind of glee that bordered on predatory.

The pumpkin headed figure tilted their head, their jagged grin widening as their laughter finally bubbled forth in a soft, airy sound that echoed strangely in the darkened space.

They didn’t speak, but the amusement in their eyes was clear as they watched him struggle, drinking in his fear and confusion with a curiosity.

The servant scrambled backward, his remaining hand trembling as he pointed at the strange figure hovering before him. “Who… who are you?” he demanded, his voice wavering, a hint of desperation breaking through his anger. “What are you?”

The pumpkin headed figure tilted their head, their glowing eyes narrowing in mischievous delight. They giggled, a high, distorted sound that echoed through the darkened void, seeming to bounce off invisible walls. Leaning forward, they tapped a finger to the carved jagged smile on their face, as if they were contemplating his question.

“Ohhh, naughty servant,” They crooned, their voice echoed strangely, like two voices layered atop each other. “So naughty to try and harm her. You put my precious [WARMTH], in danger.” Their voice shifted, soft yet carrying that haunting dual echo. The distorted voice almost seemed to hiss, as if they were sharing a secret. “She’s [LIGHT] and my home, my dearest friend, my lovely [WARMTH/HEART].”

The servant’s confusion deepened, and his face twisted with frustration. “What are you babbling about? Who, who is this…whatever noise you just made!”

The figure giggled again, spinning lazily in the air as they floated closer, their hollow, glowing eyes fixed on him. “Silly servant, doesn’t know, doesn’t see,” they hummed, tapping their chin thoughtfully. “Always hiding, always creeping, always causing trouble for my dear, my [HOME], my [WARMTH].” Their tone turned almost sing-song, as though they were teasing him with a secret he would never understand.

The servant’s face twisted in anger, though he couldn’t hide the hint of fear creeping into his gaze. He clutched his severed arm, his voice faltering. “Are you with those heroes? You dare mock me, Iwas doing Ganon’s will! Soon he will-“

“Ohhh,” They interrupted, their voice dipping into a mocking sing song, the distorted tone stretching the words while the familiar undercurrent resonated with a warmth that felt misplaced. “Hiding behind big, scary names doesn’t make you any less naughty.” They floated closer, their form drifting effortlessly.

“And Naughty Master’s orders or not, you tried to hurt her, tried to scare my precious warmth.” Their eyes glowed brighter, a spark of something darker flaring within them. “I can’t just let that slide.”

They leaned in, their glowing eyes inches from his face, their voice dropping to a near-static filled whisper. “Now, little servant… what shall we do with someone so naughty?”

The servant stumbled back.

“I know…” they said, “let’s have you help me hm?”

The servant blinked, disoriented, as he found himself suddenly in another room, the dim light casting twisted shadows along the walls.

The air was thick, almost oppressive, and he couldn’t remember how he had arrived here. His breath hitched as he turned, only to find the floating figure nearby, watching him in eerie silence.

“Show me how to solve it,” they said, their voice a strange layering of two tones, one gentle and cheerful, the other distorted, dissonant.

The servant sneered, regaining a shred of his confidence. “I don’t answer to you,” he spat, turning away defiantly. “Figure it out yourself.”

But as he moved, he could feel them watching him. He dared a glance back, and his stomach dropped. The jagged, carved grin on their pumpkin head seemed to have stretched wider than before, an unnatural curve that seemed to swallow the lower half of their face.

Their eyes, once soft glows within the hollows, had shrunk to tiny, piercing pinpricks that stared at him with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

He blinked, hoping it was a trick of the dim light. But when he looked again, the effect had only deepened.

The sockets of their eyes seemed to darken, stretching back into an endless abyss that held an unnerving, hungry stillness. The light in their gaze flickered, almost pulsing, as if feeding off his growing dread.

A cold sweat broke out on the servant’s skin as he tried to tear his gaze away, but he couldn’t look away from that monstrous face, which seemed to shift and distort the longer he stared.

It was as though the very room had warped around them, a quiet darkness that coiled and thickened, trapping him in place.

The servant’s defiance wavered, his breath coming faster. But they didn’t move.

They only tilted their head, their hollow gaze boring into him, as though daring him to defy them again. The silence pressed in, each beat of his heart growing louder, his confidence dissolving when the figure raised their arm and tapped his chest with an unnaturally long clawed finger.

“ShOw mE hOw To soLVe IT,” they repeated, their voice barely a whisper now, yet somehow suffocating, filling the space like smoke. The words echoed, seeming to layer over themselves, wrapping around him like chains.

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. “Fine… fine.”

they drifted silently beside the servant as he begrudgingly explained how to navigate each of the dungeon’s treacherous rooms.

With every riddle and hidden switch, he muttered instructions, glancing nervously at the eerie figure hovering by his side.

Occasionally, after several rooms, they would vanish without a word, leaving him alone with nothing but the chilling memory of their carved, jagged grin.

But just as his nerves would settle, they would reappear, as though stepping out from the shadows themselves, their eyes glowing faintly.

“Show me how to solve the next room,” they would say, their voice reverberating in that unsettling, dual echo that burrowed into his mind like an unwanted memory.

And each time, he would comply, clinging to the hope that if he obeyed, they might eventually let him go.

Finally, they reached the last chamber. The servant glanced around, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

This had to be it. He’d played along long enough, solved all their little puzzles. He turned to them, glaring as he clenched his remaining fist.

“You’ve gotten what you wanted,” he demanded, his voice filled with simmering anger. “Now let me go.”

They tilted their head, that carved smile widening as a soft, mirthful giggle echoed through the chamber. It was as if the laugh was layered over itself, a mockery threaded with something darker. “Oh… you really thought you could just leave?”

The servant’s face contorted with fury. “You tricked me!” he spat, his voice rising with fury. “You miserable, hollow headed freak!” His insults grew more vicious as he cursed them, his voice echoing through the chamber.

But his words died in his throat when the ground beneath his feet began to rumble.

Dust and debris shook loose from the ceiling, and he stumbled backward, wide eyed, as a massive, hulking shadow fell from the darkness above, landing with a thunderous crash in the center of the room.

The creature was monstrous, twisted and grotesque, with layers of spiked armor and muscles rippling beneath jagged scales.

Its eyes glowed with a vicious, crimson light, and it let out a deafening roar, revealing several rows of razor sharp teeth that gleamed like jagged stones in its massive maw.

The servant’s anger turned to elation, a twisted grin spreading across his face as he took in the sight of the monstrous creature. “Yes!” he laughed, loud and triumphant. “This beast was born from Master Ganon’s lingering power! I can feel it!! It was born to obey me, one of Ganon’s own loyal servants!”

He threw his arm out in a commanding gesture, confidence flooding back into his voice as he began to order the creature.

“Attack that thing! Tear it apart!” he commanded, pointing directly at the still, floating form., who only watched him with that unnervingly wide grin, unmoving.

But before the servant could finish his command, the beast turned with shocking speed, its eyes locking onto him instead. In a single, fluid motion, it surged toward him, its enormous jaws opening wide.

The servant’s face only had a single moment to twist in horror as the creature’s mouth closed around him, those jagged teeth sinking into his flesh, tearing into him with savage force.

His scream echoed through the chamber, swallowed up in an instant as the beast shook him like prey, his body limp and helpless in its grip.

Through it all, the spirit hovered in place, their carved grin wide and still, a flicker of amusement in their hollow eyes as they watched the scene unfold.

They hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken. They simply watched, silent and smiling, as the servant’s desperate cries faded into nothingness.

The beast devoured the servant, its monstrous jaws crunching through bone and flesh until there was nothing left. It let out a low, satisfied growl, blood dripping from its maw as it turned its gaze toward the figure still hovering nearby.

Not!(y/n) simply giggled, an amused, lilting sound that echoed strangely through the chamber. The beast let out another roar and charged at them, its heavy, clawed feet pounding against the ground with enough force to shake the stone beneath them.

But as the beast lunged, jaws wide, Not!(y/n) raised their hand in a casual, almost bored gesture, waving their hand upward as if lifting something delicate.

The massive creature was suddenly pulled up into the air, its charge halted mid stride as it dangled helplessly, limbs thrashing in vain.

“Silly creature,” Not!(y/n) chuckled, their voice echoing in that eerie, doubled tone. “You need to go away now.”

They extended their hand, fingers splayed, and slowly began to close it into a fist.

The beast writhed, its roars growing more frantic, louder, as an invisible force seemed to constrict it from within.

Muscles strained, scales cracked, and the creature’s once menacing snarls turned into desperate screams as Not!(y/n)’s hand continued to close.

With a gentle pulling motion, they clenched their fist, and a pulsing orb of energy, the beast’s core, was ripped from its body.

The creature let out a final, agonized roar as its core was torn free, leaving it a lifeless shell. Not!(y/n) released their grip, and both the core and the creature’s massive body fell to the ground with a heavy, echoing thud.

The chamber fell silent, save for the faint hum of energy from the discarded core. Not!(y/n) hummed to themselves, floating in a whimsical motion, their hands clasped behind their back as they bobbed up and down, as if enjoying a gentle breeze.

With a lighthearted twirl, they turned to face the dungeon’s main door. The twisted grin on their pumpkin face remained fixed as the door slowly creaked open.

As they faded into the shadows, (Y/N) stumbled through the now open doorway, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

—————

————

—————

Hours had passed, and the cave was quiet, save for the soft crackle of a small fire and the occasional shifting of the heroes as they kept watch.

(Y/N) lay on her bed mat, wrapped in fresh bandages and dressed in a change of clothes, her breathing soft and even as she slept, the day’s trials finally catching up with her.

Some of the group rested near her, their eyes heavy with exhaustion, while others sat farther away, keeping vigilant watch over the cave entrance, ensuring no threats would disturb her rest.

In the dim light, a faint shadow appeared, barely more than a whisper against the cave walls. The figure drifted closer, moving soundlessly over the ground until they reached (Y/N)’s side.

The softest of chuckles echoed, and the shadow leaned down, an almost tender touch as a faint hand reached out, patting her head with a gentleness that seemed strangely out of place.

Not!(Y/N) twirled in slow, whimsical circles above her, their form flickering and fading in and out of the dim light, as if dancing to a melody only they could hear.

Their shoulders shaking as silent giggles escaped them, as they watched over her for a long, quiet moment.

Then, just as silently as they had appeared, they faded back into the shadows, vanishing completely.

None of the heroes stirred, none awake aware of the brief visit that had happened.

And (y/n) slept on.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: my disappearing secret

pairing: toby hawthorne x hannah rooney

synopsis: hannah thought she’d never see her toby again, he’d left her once, then twice but maybe just maybe third time’s a charm

warnings: SPOILERS FOR GAMES UNTOLD!!

a/n: for @lila-77 merry christmas my love!! 🎄❤️🤍💚

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @eternal--dream @shattered-glass-roses

She felt his gaze before she even turned around. But it couldn’t really be him, could it? She thought she might be making it all up in her mind, yet she still whispered his name aloud, just incase maybe this time she wasn’t fantasising, incase this time he was actually there.

“Harry?”

There was one beat. Disappointment flooded through her, of course he wasn’t there. She’s been stupid to think it. Massaging her temples she carried on with her job. Then there was a second beat. ‘He’s not coming back Hannah’ she silently reminded herself.

“Hannah.”

Her heart almost stopped beating as all the oxygen was robbed from her lungs. She spun around, she had to see if it was real or whether it was all a voice inside her head. With a soft gasp, she could only stare and question whether or not she was hallucinating.

There he stood, sparkling green eyes, tall laid back figure, grinning like the first day she’d ever set eyes on him. He looked thinner than she would’ve liked him to, dark circles under his eyes. She wondered when the last time he had a proper meal was or when last he slept through the night. But she stopped herself from asking because that would waste their time and she’d learnt that time was all too precious.

“Same forwards as it is backwards,” he finished, a Hawthorne smile if she ever saw one, dancing across his lips.

Hannah was still at a loss for words, which wasn’t a lot like her in front of him. Toby Hawthorne was stood in her kitchen. She’d fantasised for something like this to happen, wished on dandelion clocks and birthday cake for a moment like this and now it was here.

Only she was less relieved than she thought she might be and more panicked. What was going on? Why was he here? Why now? Her brain raced through every worst case possible scenario. But then, for a minute she silenced her thoughts and let go of caring why and took in the moment. He was here. The rest didn’t matter. He was here.

“Harry,” she exhaled shakily.

“You already said that,” he replied, taking a step closer.

Every cell in her body burned with a sudden starvation. A desire born from a sheer desperation to be in his arms. She wanted to feel his touch, she craved it. Hannah couldn’t think of anything better than for him to scoop her up and run away from the rest of the world, even if it were all just for a second.

“What are you doing here?” she blurted out suddenly.

His lips twisted into a strange sort of smile, “do you want another postcard?”

She almost smiled back. Almost.

She folded her arms, “what are you doing here?” she asked again, her tone more demanding, reminding them both of her sharpness she’d once had with him as teenagers.

“Come on Hannah I thought you were meant to be astute,” he grinned, that twinkle in his eye as he cocked his head to the side, “don’t tell me that’s gone downhill after all these years.”

“You can’t avoid the question forever,” she told him.

“Why ask when you already know the answer,” he asked quietly, taking another step towards her, “I love you Hannah, I always have and I always will. I needed to see you, your face, your eyes, your everything. It was killing me not to.”

“Then you have no idea what it was doing to me,” she murmured, tilting her chin up slightly to truly meet his eyes.

His pupils slowly dilated, swallowing up the green of his iris like a malnourished lion would a human corpse.

“I love you,” he told her again, his voice strong and steady.

“I love you too,” she said, letting her hands trail up his torso until they met at the back of his neck.

“Do you still hate me,” Toby asked her, “for the way I left you, both times?”

Hannah could only chuckle, “always, but love does something funny to the hate.”

“How poetic,” he teased, snaking an arm around her waist.

“Well we both know how much you like your poems,” she murmured, melting into his touch.

It felt so natural, so right. As if this was how they were always meant to be. He softly brushed his lips over hers and something ignited. Neither had tasted each it in such a long time, they’d almost forgotten how much they craved it.

The kisses began to get rougher, more passion and fire behind the movement. Hannah had her hand buried deep in his hair, clutching at chunks and tugging them every which way. It was love on a deeper level, intense and rash. Toby’s finger squeezed tighter around her waist in an attempt to pull her even closer into him, though it wasn’t possible. It was the kind of kiss that made you forget you even existed, that made you forget anything existed, that made you forget you had to breathe until your lungs were screaming at you, begging for oxygen.

“I want my postcard,” she said, breathlessly against his lips.

He smirked, amused by the way annoyance flashed across her perfect face, “impatient, are we?”

And for a moment it felt like they’d never been apart, like the years of constant yearning and dreaming and praying had never even happened. It felt like they’d been together through it all, like Toby had never left that night in the lighthouse and never left that night in the hospital either.

“Come on Hawthorne and give me the damn postcard,” she replied, between kisses, “I want it.”

“Sometimes we don’t get what we want,” he taunted, taking her face into his hands slowly pressing a kiss on her forehead, then on the bone when her eyebrow met her nose, moving down to each of her eyes closed eyes and the tip of her nose. They were so soft, so delicate they almost tickled. He met her lips again before slowly trailing down to her jawline, neck and collarbone.

“I do,” she replied, a flicker of determination in her eyes and a fluttering in her stomach, “I get what I want.”

Toby bit his lip. Hannah Rooney, the girl he’d fallen in love with, the girl he’d never fall out of love with.

“Let’s play a game,” he said, “if you win, the postcard is all yours.”

Her eyes flickered to the clock hung on the wall. The minute hand was moving far too fast for her liking.

“Do we have enough time?” she asked, lips tingling still, “Avery will be coming home soon.”

“Avery,” he repeated tipping his head back smiling. He savoured her name on his tongue, “how is she?”

“She’s incredible,” Hannah beamed, wishing she could tell him every little thing about her, “she’s kind and sweet and caring and she’s so intelligent Harry.”

“No doubt she got all of her mother’s genes then,” he replied, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her in.

Heat crept up into Hannah’s cheeks. Of course he still managed to make her blush.

“She’s so big now,” she told him, “so much bigger than the last time you saw her.”

He raised an eyebrow, “bold of you to assume I don’t keep a closer eye on her.”

A tender hand squeezed Hannah’s heart, “you do?”

“When I can,” he shrugged, “she’s growing up to look so much like you Hannah, but she’s got Kaylie’s smile.”

He grazed her cheek with his knuckle, so gently it felt like he was barely touching her. Bittersweetness washed over Hannah like an overbearing tidal wave of feeling.

“I’m going to make sure she goes as far as she wants with her life,” she said quietly, trying to keep the emotion from seeping into her voice, “give her all the opportunities me and Kaylie didn’t have.”

“And you will,” Toby whispered, “you’re good like that.”

“She’s going to go far,” Hannah told him shakily, her eye blurring a little.

She was sure of it.

“I don’t have a doubt about it,” he replied hoarsely.

And so was he.

Her heart ached, weighted with the words she thought in her every waking hour. The words she wished for so long she could tell him. The words she thought she’d never get the opportunity to say to his face ever again.

“I miss you,” Hannah whispered, so quietly she wasn’t even sure if he’d heard her.

“I miss you too,” he replied in almost an instant.

Of course he heard her. He always did. Even when there was nothing to say. He just knew.

“He hasn’t found you, has he?” she asked, searching and scanning every line of his face for an indication of an answer.

They both know who ‘he’ was, the instant she said it. But she had to ask. The worry alone was intoxicating her internal organs, contorting them into funny shapes like some sort of psychotic balloon animal.

“Not yet,” he said firmly, “at least I don’t think so.”

“Good,” she nodded, “that’s good.”

Hannah stared at him for a long while and he only stared right back. She wanted Avery to meet him, to be able to call him ‘dad’, she wanted Avery to know about this wonderful man she loved in hopes she might find one equally as kind and as selfless and as genuine. And for a second she wondered if she might dare ask him one last time to stay with her. She wondered if maybe this time he might say yes.

“I can’t hide here Hannah,” he whispered.

Toby read her like an open book, he knew her mind like he knew his own. He also knew the risks she’d be willing to take for him and he wouldn’t let it happen.

She smiled a little sadly, “how can you read my mind?”

“Call it a talent,” he shrugged, with a wink.

“Why Harry,” she asked, her voice so small it scared him, “after everything you’ve been through, just come home.”

She touched the left side of her chest with her hand, her heart throbbing underneath. He belonged here. Hannah knew it in her bones. He belonged with her and Avery, here.

“He’d know,” he shook his head, “he’d hurt you, he’d hurt Avery.”

Hannah sighed, “so why now? Why decide to come and see me now?”

“Well I-“

A locked clicked, a handle turned and the front door swung open, “Mum you’ll never believe it! I won the science award!”

Hannah’s eyes went wide as she tore her gaze from his and rushed to greet her daughter, leaving Toby in the kitchen. He dared to stand in the doorway and silently watch as Hannah wrapped her gentle arms around Avery and congratulated her. He saw the exact moment Avery’s eye lit up in joy, happy with herself and her achievement.

Pride swelled in his chest and a few tears sprung to his eyes. Avery, his Avery had won the science award in school. He wanted nothing more than to embrace her tightly and tell her how special she truly was. How she was so like he mother and more, how he loved her to the moon and back, how he’d protect her until he was a gravestone stood in a churchyard.

But he knew what he had to do now. It had been a risk even coming at all. Even though he knew it had been coming, Toby had never been good at goodbyes. Glossy eyed with a twisting agony in the left side of his chest, he took one final look at his wonderful Avery and his beautiful Hannah. The brightest sparks he’d ever seen in his life.

“I got this certificate and everything,” Avery beamed, showing off the piece of paper.

“That’s amazing sweetheart!” Hannah said, stealing a glance back towards the kitchen.

She already knew he was gone, just like she knew when he was there. But she had to check. She hoped she was wrong, that her feeling was off but it wasn’t. It never was. Hannah didn’t know why it still hurt when she discovered he wasn’t still there. She wasn’t losing something she had.

“And I even got this medal,” Avery continued, snapping her out of the haze and bringing her back to reality. She had a daughter and a life. She had something to focus on. And even if Toby wasn’t physically there, he was there in her heart, “and Mrs Gray told me that I’m one of the best science students she’d seen of my age for years!”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Hannah smiled kissing her forehead gently, “well done sweetie, I’m so proud of you. Should we put your certificate on the fridge?”

Avery nodded enthusiastically and went to get a magnet from the drawer. Suddenly she came to a halt and with a confused look picked up a rectangluar piece of card, furrowing her little eyebrows.

“Mum?” she asked curiously, “why is there a postcard on the counter?”

Hannah felt her heart rate pick up. He left her the postcard. Of course he had.

She looked around to Avery and bit back a smile, “let’s play a game Ave.”

“What kind of game?” she asked, folding her arms.

“One of our usual ones, it’s called I Have A Secret.”

[melolord14]

For All Eternity

Lady Dimitrescu x Female reader

Notes: I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause. This is a rather sorrowful piece. While I may not be an established writer or someone whose work you are familiar with, I hope you will consider reading what I have to offer.

Masterlist

Warning: Angst

Part 2

Summary: you don’t get one! Find out if you dare!

You were finally home. After a long day at Donna's, filled with endless conversations and discussions, you were back where you belonged. You couldn't wait to see Alcina, your fiancée, the woman you had been engaged to for two blissful months. The thought of marrying the love of your life, the person you would cherish for all eternity, filled your heart with joy and anticipation.

As you walked through the familiar hallways of your home, each step bringing you closer to your bedroom, you suddenly heard what sounded like moans. A wave of confusion and disbelief washed over you. No, she wouldn't cheat on you. She couldn't.

"Please, I'm close. Keep going. Faster," you heard her voice, unmistakably Alcina's, pleading.

"Well then, I can't deny you that. You can have me instead of her if you call off the wedding," another voice replied, one you didn't recognize.

A maiden? Really? This couldn't be happening. The shock and betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. You thought she loved you. You thought—no, you couldn't think anymore. You needed to leave, but a small part of you clung to a sliver of hope. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe there was still hope left. But that hope was cruelly extinguished when she uttered those final words. "I'll call off the wedding.”

Your heart shattered into a million pieces. The pain was unbearable. You couldn't stay in this place that once felt like home. It was no longer a sanctuary, but a prison of heartbreak. You walked to the library, each step heavier than the last. You took off your engagement ring with trembling hands and gently placed it on the table. You pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a note for the girls. How you hated that you couldn't say goodbye face to face. You loved them dearly, you did. They were your daughters, and leaving them behind was the hardest part.

With one last look at the life you had built, you turned and left, the door closing behind you with a finality that echoed through the empty halls. The place you once called home was now just a memory, a painful reminder of a love that was never meant to be.

"I thought we had forever," you whispered to yourself, the words hanging in the air like a ghost of what could have been. "How did it come to this?"

"Goodbye, my love," you murmured, your voice breaking. "Goodbye, my daughters. I hope you understand one day."

As you entered the night, the cool breeze kissed your tear-streaked face. "This is not the end," you told yourself, trying to muster some semblance of strength. "This is just a new beginning."

But deep down, you knew that a part of you would always stay behind, in that room, with the woman you thought you knew, and the family you had to leave behind.

You ran and ran until there it was—the cliff's edge. That's all you need to do. Jump, and your life would end just like that. You stepped forward, looking down at the water below. What else could you do? You took a step, then another. You were close to the edge. Shutting your eyes, you tried to close the memories with them, hoping to lock them away forever. A tear slid down your cheek, the pain of that tear no less than the pain of living. You took that final step, and it was all over. The wind rushed through your hair, and your body fell from a great height.

You got closer and closer to the water below until suddenly, you froze in mid-air. You were surprised and confused. You looked off to the side to see her—the black goddess, Mother Miranda, staring at you with her piercing blue eyes.

"Stupid girl. Why would you jump off a cliff? Are you wishing for death?" she asked, her voice a mix of scorn and concern. "Now, why don't you go back to Alcina? I'm sure she is looking for you, little one."

Mother Miranda's words cut through the haze of your despair. She brought you gently to the ground, making you stand in front of her. You felt the solid earth beneath your feet, but the ground beneath your heart felt like quicksand.

"She doesn't care," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "She doesn't want me, Mother." Your voice cracked, and the dam holding back your emotions broke. You fell to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Mother Miranda watched you, her expression unreadable. She didn't want to admit that she had a soft spot for you. Hell, she loved you like a daughter, though she wouldn't admit it. She knelt beside you, her presence a mix of stern authority and unexpected warmth.

"Listen to me," she said, her voice softer now, almost tender. "You are stronger than this. You are worth more than the love or indifference of one person. Alcina may have made mistakes, but that does not diminish your value. Stand up, little one. Face your pain, do not run from it."

Her words resonated within you, a spark of hope in the darkness. You looked up at her, tears still streaming down your face. "But what if she never wants me back? What if I'm truly alone?"

"You are never truly alone," Mother Miranda replied, her eyes softening. "As long as you have the strength to stand and the courage to face your fears, you will always find your way. And remember, you have me. I may be harsh, but I care for you more than you know."

Using her magic to take you both home, you still held onto Miranda tightly. The journey was swift, and soon you found yourself back in the familiar warmth of your home. You sat on the couch with her, feeling the comfort of her presence. You lay down on the couch, resting your head in her lap. Her fingers gently combed through your hair, a soothing gesture that calmed your racing thoughts.

Miranda's voice was soft and tender as she whispered sweet things to you. "You're safe now, my little bird," she murmured, her words wrapping around you like a warm blanket. "Mama's here. I'll always protect you."

The emotions of the day caught up with you, and you couldn't hold back the tears any longer. You cried yourself to sleep, the gentle rhythm of her voice and the caress of her fingers lulling you into a deep slumber.

"Sleep well, my little bird," she whispered as she carefully lifted you and carried you to the guest room, which she had already decided would soon be your room. She laid you down gently, tucking you in with a loving smile. "Mama's got you," she said, her voice filled with unwavering affection.

She kissed your forehead, a tender gesture of reassurance, and quietly left the room, leaving you to rest peacefully, knowing you were safe and loved.