#but the truth is deep down he STILL loves her despite the betrayal and despite her refusal | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

liahaslosthermind · 3 months ago

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~ 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝑾𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒓 ~

Past Rhysand x OC (Adelaide), Eventual Azriel x OC Part 5 of Betrayal Summary: There is no time, no time, no time, no time. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, Grief, Betrayal.

Azriel awoke with a pounding headache. One someone could only get from having their mind horrifically violated as he had.

Despite the headache, he was at peace in the comfortable bed. A warm wool blanket wrapped around him, one that smelt of-

Adelaide

The realization made him quickly sit up. He was in Adelaide's room, not unusual these past months. But he had the blanket she had given him wrapped around his upper body, the one he had given to her... corpse.

With renewed urgency, Azriel got up as fast as he could, grabbing The Walking Dead, which he had hidden in a loose floorboard under the bed. One that still housed the love letters Adelaide had put there years ago, all given to her by Rhysand. The thought made his stomach turn.

He couldn't allow himself to think about Rhysand. The name creating a bad taste in his mouth and a deep wound in his already scabrous heart. He couldn't think about all the books on this kind of magic he had yet to read from the library. What had he to lose at this point?

Less than a day ago, he didn't even want to live to see the morning If the spell didn't work, if something went wrong, if he got his hopes up for nothing, then he wouldn't have lost anything. He didn't have anything else to lose anymore.

His shadows seemed to be on board, they had started talking to him for the first time since he decided to end his life. Alerting him of anyone he might run into while escaping the house, Azriel had almost gotten out quickly and unnoticed. But he knew he didn't have much time before someone came to check on him and figured out he was doing something stupid. Thats why he couldn't have been too surprised when Amren appeared from around the corner, blocking his exit.

He cursed the shadows for their sudden silence.

Hear what The Ancient One has to say, was all they replied.

"What are you doing, boy?" She asked. He didn't answer, not knowing what kind of a response she was looking for, and because the look in her eyes told him she already knew he was going to do something he shouldn't.

She looked down at The Walking Dead and hissed.

"Where did you get that?" She asked, with more urgency than he had heard from her in a while.

"It... found me" it was the truth, but not a very believable one.

"Gods," She mumbled, "You are messing with a kind of magic you shouldn't." She said.

"I know."

"There will be consequences."

"I know."

There was silence for a beat. In that moment Azriel saw a thousand emotions in Amren, a woman who was usually so closed off.

Understanding, disappointment, approval, grief, empathy.

But the moment ended, and her mask was slipped back on.

"You won't have long till they figure it out, and I won't go out of my way to help you," was all she said as she walked off.

The mausoleum looked the same as it had the last time Azriel was there, sans the blanket he draped over Adelaide.

Hands shook as he opened the... spell book, or whatever this thing could be categorized as.

He should have really taken a moment to study the other texts.

But there was no time.

The pages remained blank, safe for the spell he had seen. No instructions, no pointers. Only the words of Eternally Intertwined.

He carefully grabbed Adelaide's body, shaking even harder as he felt how cold she was. He didn't want her potentially waking up in a marble casket.

So he got back on the floor and held her in his arms, the same position they had been in when she had taken her dying breath.

Despite how much he was shaking, despite the stress of the situation, despite the time constraint, despite how much he needed this to work, the Shadowsinger's voice was steady, commanding, speaking the words in a tone he had never heard himself use.

He began to hear the flapping of wings. Cassian. And someone shouting his name. Nesta.

Their oncoming arrival caused Azriel to speed up, losing the steadiness of his voice. By the end, he had messed up a few words. But he couldn't think about that as he closed his eyes, and waited. Waited for her to wake up. Waited for Cassian and Nesta to get there. Waited for something.

But nothing happened.

He finally opened them when he heard the two arrive through the entrance, fear etched on their faces. They both let out a breath as they looked over Azriel and saw him physically unharmed.

They thought they would find you dead, his shadows sang.

So Amren hadn't ratted him out, but she also hadn't spared his family the heartache and stress.

They stopped when they took in Adelaide, still limp in his arms. Still dead.

"Azriel..." Cassian trailed off, at a loss for words as he saw tears streaked across his brother's face. The look in his eyes, utter despair, grief, hopelessness.

Azriel was too far gone, and Cassian didn't know if he could pull him back.

Azriel turned away from them, holding Addie closer as they began to step forward, mumbling something.

The two mates' hearts broke when they finally could make out what the Spy Master was saying.

Please, please, please, please, I'll give anything.

Cassian and Nesta didn't have time to look at one another as a blinding white light appeared, surrounding Azriel and the corpse.

They didn't have time to think as a hot wave passed over them, not enough to wound them, but enough to sting. Through all of the light and heat, they could distantly hear the rest of their family coming, having stayed behind to get Madja incase they needed to save Azriel from himself.

Yells from the new arrivals entering the building were all either of them could hold onto to remain grounded.

Just as fast as it happened, the light went away. Blinking a few times, checking in on one another, and letting the rest of their family know they were alright, Nesta and Cassian looked towards their brother.

He was motionless on the ground, Addie's body next to him, hands intertwined.

"Gods, what has he done?" Madja asked, for the first time in a while, she didn't know how to help, how to heal.

Suddenly, the Shadowsinger opened his eyes, sitting up. Seeing Adelaide's unmoving body next to him, he felt a new wave of disconsolateness wash over him.

Then he noticed their intertwined fingers, something he hadn't been doing when he held her previously.

Then he noticed how warm her hands were, none of that cold touch death cast upon the dead.

Then he noticed the soft rise and fall of her chest.

"She's- fuck she's-" Azriel couldn't even finish his thought as he grabbed her, once again holding his best friend as close to him as possible.

But this time she wasn't lifeless.

If he focused, he could see her eyes moving under her eyelids, as if she was dreaming.

He felt like he was dreaming too.

The shouts coming from behind him were incomprehensible in the state he was in. He was breathing too hard, black dots starting to eat away at his vision.

Cassian caught his brother as he passed out.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #acotar angst #rhysand angst #azriel #rhysand #azriel angst #cassian #amren

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auras-moonstone · 1 year ago

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HEAR ME OUT! Tara and Y/n has been together ever since the massacre in Woodsboro but Tara (like that bitch she is) treats her like shit while drunk at a party, ending up in a breakup. Ethan steps in and takes her home and it ends up in Smut/fluff.

stars around my scars — ethan landry

word count: 1,174

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: after witnessing the way tara mistreats y/n at the party, ethan takes her home to take care of her.

warnings: toxic relationship. fluff.

Y/N ALWAYS HAD ALWAYS KNOWN TARA DIDN’T LIKE HER AS MUCH AS SHE DID. She had always known deep down that the petite girl had feelings for Amber, but she had been too scared of ruining their friendship so she settled for the second option—her. And call her masochist, but Y/N never cared as long as she could call Tara hers.

And then, there was Amber’s betrayal and death. It sent Tara down a rabbit hole. She had never been in love with Y/N, but at least she used to care about her. She was sweet and attentive despite her heart belonging to someone else. Now, Y/N was simply the person she kept at arm’s length as a distraction from pain. Parties and alcohol were also things that helped her with that.

The party the group was currently at landed on a very convenient day—it marked one year from the Woodsboro killings, and Tara made it her mission to get as intoxicated as possible, trying to get her mind off things.

“Tara, please stop. You’ve drunk way too much.” Y/N said to her girlfriend, who was frenetically searching for another bottle of vodka.

“Jesus, leave me alone, Y/N.” the girl rolled her eyes. “Don’t you have anything better to do than suffocating me with your clingyness?”

Y/N sighed. “I’m just taking care of you. You’re going to regret drinking so much in the morning.”

“Are you deaf or something? I said leave me the fuck alone. I just want to drink and forget about everything.”

“I know, T. But you’re very drunk, and you keep mixing drinks. It’s gonna land you in the hospital.” Y/N carefully grabbed her girlfriend’s hand, but the girl shoved it away as if the touch had burnt her.

“You’re not her, don’t you get it? You’ll never be her. I just wish you’d leave me the fuck alone. I don’t love you, stop trying to make me love you. It’s not going to happen. Ever.” Tara spat, voice loud enough to make people look.

Y/N stood still, not knowing what to say or do. Her brain couldn’t formulate any words, she just felt a gigantic knot on her throat and tears blurring her vision. The pity glances were overwhelming, and she wanted to get away from them so badly, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate.

Ethan, who had witnessed the harsh words from a few feet away, rushed towards them as soon as he noticed her friend’s frozen state. “You’re a fucking bitch.” he glared at Tara, and silently added ‘and you deserve everything that’s coming to you.’ “Let’s go, Y/N/N. I’m taking you home.”

Y/N followed the boy without a second guess. Ethan didn’t utter a single word on the way home, he just tucked her under his arm and affectionately rubbed her arm. And as always, his presence was comforting.

He was always there for her, lifting her spirits up and offering his ear whenever she needed someone to talk to. Even though Y/N could sense what his thoughts about her relationship with Tara were, Ethan had never judged her for her questionable and stupid choices.

Ethan had tried very hard not to spill every thought he had about it, because as much as she wanted to open Y/N’s eyes, he knew she hadn’t been ready for the truth. And deep down, Y/N sensed that. But that night, she felt it was time to hear his opinion.

“Thank you, Eth. For everything.” she finally said once they reached his apartment.

Ethan sat beside her on the couch with a glass of water in his hand. “Anytime.” he replied, giving her the glass. “Y/N…” he said after a few seconds of dead silence.

“I know, Eth. I’m the most idiotic person in the world.” her eyes were glued to the floor, completely embarrassed by the fact that Ethan had to witness the way Tara had talked to her.

“Don’t do that. Don’t put the blame on you.” he kneeled between her legs, forcing her to look at him. “You’re so amazing, and I’m sorry Tara didn’t see that. You deserve so much better, Y/N/N. You were such a great girlfriend to her, and she took you for granted.”

“I should’ve ended it so long ago… but I don’t know, we’ve been through so much and I was scared that if I broke up with her, the group would put distance between us. I don’t want to be alone.”

Ethan grabbed her by the cheeks and caressed her face softly. His touch was so relaxing that it made her close her eyes, and before she knew what was doing, she started pressing kisses on his palm and wrists.

The boy’s heart was beating so fast that it felt like it wanted to escape through his chest. “I’m never leaving you. You’ll never be alone. Keep me close and I promise I’ll take care of you and make you feel loved.”

Y/N opened her eyes at that statement. Surprised vulnerable eyes met his determined and loving ones, and for the second time that night, she was left speechless. In the best way, Ethan took away her ability to speak.

“Since the very first night, you have been living free rent in my mind. Realizing you were taken was like a punch to the guts, but learning that your heart belonged to someone who didn’t appreciate it? It pierced my heart. Maybe I should’ve said something sooner, maybe you needed someone to help you open your eyes.”

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t know if I would’ve taken your advice, to be honest. I was blind. But Ethan, you’ve taken care of me from the beginning. You would break your back to make me break a smile, Eth. I want nothing more than to try something with you but I just got out of a relationship, I don’t know if my mind is in the right space to start something new.”

“I’m not saying we should start a relationship right now. I can wait, and in the meanwhile I can make you feel good, be whatever you need.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to you, Eth. I can’t use you like that.”

“Y/N, I’m begging you to use me. Fuck, I sound like a attention starved puppy, but I want you—whatever way you want me, whenever you want me and as long as you want to.”

Y/N searched for any sign of hesitation or reluctance, but the boy was determined. He really wanted this, and to be honest, so did she. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

Y/N nodded, the sides of her mouth lifting. “Right now, I need a kiss. You think you can give me that?”

Ethan grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her towards him, lips meeting aggressively. “Your lips taste so fucking good, baby. I think I’m already addicted.”

“Good, cause I think I’m addicted, too. I’ve never been kissed like this.” she said in between kisses.

“Then I guess we should never stop doing this.” he gripped her waist as he straddles her thighs.

Y/N’s hooded eyes connected with his and they both smiled. “Guess we shouldn’t.”

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stylesispunk · 10 months ago

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"The not so invisible string" part 5

Not outbreak! Joel Miller x F! Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

summary: you and Joel were made right for each other at the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, cheating, serious talk. "Doe" is her nickname. No proof reading haha

a/n: Hello! Here's chapter 5! I hope you like it, sorry for the all the wait, I've been dealing with some things. This one is more like a filler chapter and I'll be back with another one on Tuesday! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. Happy reading 💌 Remember my dms and asks are always open for you

dividers by @/saradika.

It has already been a week since you found out about Dwight’s family, and since then, you have not spoken to him. He had sent messages and had been calling you, begging you to let him explain himself. But you ignore them; instead, you initiated the divorce process with a lawyer, and you were waiting for this chapter of your life to finally be over. Even when you couldn’t bear the feeling of something you touched becoming ashes again, how a shame it was for you to be an insignificant target to fool.

The truth was that Dwight was a source of light entering through your window at some point. The very first night you met him, he was a gentleman, and he treated you well until he stopped. However, the unfaithful path he had chosen for the both of you was something you could not forgive. Your marriage was ending like all the other love stories you were part of.

And that was one of the worst parts of being an adult: having to pick up the broken pieces of you by yourself, save them in your pocket, and continue with your life because it doesn’t matter how exhausted you are or not; you have to continue because you are a woman and no little child is allowed to cry anymore.

During all this week, you had been staying at Joel’s house. He reassured me that it was okay for him to sleep on the couch and insisted that you take the bed. Joel had been acting as a supportive friend throughout this difficult situation, offering a listening ear whenever you needed to vent and a shoulder to cry on, but still, the string pulling you together was burning in your finger, and for him, it seemed okay to pretend that the kiss you almost gave him didn’t happen.

As you lay in bed one night, staring up at the ceiling, thoughts of Dwight and the life you had envisioned together flooded your mind. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and betrayal, but deep down, you knew that you deserved better than someone who couldn't stay faithful.

After all, you thought you deserved it. You had been physically faithful to him, but you always knew your heart belonged to Joel since the moment you met him, and loving a man while staying married to another was another type of treason.

All wells end badly if they are built on lies.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

You almost dropped your cup of coffee when you heard Joel's voice saying your name.

"What?" You inquired, perplexed.

"I told you I'm leaving and taking the girls to school; are you coming?"

"No, I have to see Dwight in an hour," you said. Joel's face sank slightly at the mention of Dwight's name, as if poison had flowed from your lips. "You know, divorce things," you said somberly.

Joel nodded in agreement, although his expression revealed a tinge of anguish. "I understand," he replied softly. "Just remember, you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you, no matter what.

Touched by his constant support, you smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Joel. I sincerely appreciate everything you have done for me. And thank you for taking Tara to school."

As Joel gathered his belongings and prepared to go, you couldn't help but feel grateful for having him back in your life. Despite the distress you were experiencing, knowing you had someone like him by your side gave you the resilience to face whatever lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you prepared for the meeting with Dwight, reaffirming your courage and telling yourself that you deserved better than the pain he had caused you. And as you saw Joel leaving, you couldn't help but feel like the story was repeating itself, as if you weren't deserving of permanent love.

The mood at the lawyer's office, where you sat across from Dwight, was strained. The air seemed heavy with unspoken thoughts and repressed feelings. Dwight squirmed uneasily in his seat, avoiding your gaze and fidgeting with the papers in front of him.

You took a deep breath, ready for the talk that needed to take place. "Dwight," you said, your voice firm but laced with bitterness, "we both understand why we're here. "This marriage... is over."

Dwight finally caught your stare, and you could feel the guilt and regret in his eyes. "I know," he replied softly, just above a whisper. "I messed up, and I apologize. I don't expect you to forgive me, but just know that I didn't mean to hurt you."

Your heart was crushed at his words, but you knew forgiveness would never come. "Yeah, I bet you didn't mean to have a child with another woman," you responded, your tone strict. "But apologies are not going to fix the damage already done. We need to move forward with the divorce, and I want you to tell Tara about your child."

Dwight nodded, a sense of resignation washing over him. "I understand," he replied, his voice full of remorse. "I will sign any paper that is required and won't disagree with it. I only want you to be happy, even if it is without me."

As you left the lawyer's office, without saying a word to him, Dwight turned to you with an eager expression in his eyes. "Can I have Tara over for dinner tonight?" he requested cautiously. "I want to tell her the truth and start making amends."

You hesitated for a moment, considering your alternatives. Regardless of the hurt and betrayal, you believed Tara deserved to know the truth about her father. And perhaps, by confronting the truth together, you would be able to repair the wounds that have been done to your family.

You sighed and nodded, an overwhelming feeling of conviction coming over you. "Yes, Dwight," you replied gently. "You can have Tara over for tonight.

Dwight nodded, a thankful smile flashing over his lips. "Thank you," he replied genuinely. "I won't let you down."

"I don't trust you, and if you make my daughter cry, I will fucking kill you, Dwight." You spoke with a steely tone to emphasize the importance of your warning.

Dwight's smile faded as he gulped and nodded his head. "I know I've let you both down," he muttered gently, his expression gloomy. "But I swear, I'll do everything I can to make things right. "I love Tara and would never do anything to hurt her."

You kept his stare for a minute, looking for any sign of sincerity. You slowly nodded, accepting his words with cautious apprehension. "But you did," you responded, your tone softening slightly. "Tara deserves nothing less than your best. "You are her father; act like one."

Dwight nodded firmly; his expression full of purpose. "I won't let you down," he said, his voice full of tenacity.

With a final nod, you turned and walked away, an avalanche of emotions spinning inside you. While you couldn't ignore the pain and treachery he'd caused you, you couldn't resist the flicker of optimism washing over you.

"Hey, pretty lady, can you help me with something?" Tommy spoke while reaching over to your desk.

"What is it?" you asked, in an unnecessarily harsh tone, as Tommy lifted his gaze to meet the sadness in your eyes and laid his papers aside.

"Okay. What's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

"Nothing but a soon-to-be divorce," you responded, faking a smile as if you had said something amusing, but Tommy did not laugh or smile.

"What?" you asked. "Okay, I'm kind of stressed with some things."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he replied quietly, his voice full of sympathy. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

You felt a rush of gratitude rush over you after Tommy's offer of support.

Despite the facade you had been trying to keep up, the weight of recent events had taken its toll, and it felt good to finally share your burden with someone else.

"Is it because of my brother, or not? What about his date tonight?"

"Joel has a date tonight." you said, your heart cracking slightly.

Tommy's face furrowed with worry as he noticed your reaction. "Yes, he mentioned it earlier. He said he was going out with someone he had recently met."

The news made your heart sink as a range of emotions swirled inside you. "Oh," was all you could say, attempting to cover up the twinge of pain that stabbed your chest.

Tommy sensed a shift in your attitude, and his expression softened with understanding. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew since you are staying at his house."

"It's okay, Tommy," you said, attempting a forced smile.

However, it was not okay.

Not long after that, Joel came to the office door, ready to go, and drew your attention with a glance around the room. Without saying anything, he gestured for Tommy to join him, and the two of them rushed toward the exit.

You couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment as you observed them leave together, a reminder that you'd also lost him along the way.

As they approached the door, Joel paused and returned his gaze to you, his face softening as he did so, and despite the hurt and confusion whirling inside you, you managed to muster a small, strained smile in response.

"See you later," Joel murmured, his tone tinged with concern.

You nodded in answer, attempting to cover up the chaos that was growing within you. "See you," you said, the words seeming flat on your tongue.

Joel and Tommy disappeared in just one glance, leaving you alone in the office with your thoughts.

Maybe it was time for you to move on, leave his house, and even leave this town.

As the night fell, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, the events of the day weighing heavily on your mind. The sound of the door opening pulled you from your reverie, and you looked up to see Joel entering the house.

"Hey," he greeted you, his voice warm but tinged with concern as he noticed the somber expression on your face. "How was your day?"

You forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil brewing inside you. "It was alright," you replied vaguely, avoiding his gaze.

Joel furrowed his brows, sensing that something was amiss. "Where are the girls?”

“Uhm. Sarah is upstairs doing homework”

“And Tara?" he asked, his tone filled with curiosity.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "She's at Dwight's," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's expression tensed slightly at the mention of Dwight's name, a flicker of emotion passing through his eyes before he composed himself. "Oh," was all he said, his voice neutral.

A heavy silence settled between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Sensing the tension, you took a deep breath and decided to break the silence.

"So, uh, how was your date?" you asked, trying to sound casual despite the knot of jealousy tightening in your chest.

Joel's brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes searching yours for any hint of jest. "Date?" he echoed; his voice tinged with surprise.

Your heart sank at his reaction, realizing that perhaps you had misunderstood or misheard earlier. "Yeah, Tommy mentioned it,” you explained, trying to keep your tone light despite the growing unease in your stomach.

As you mentioned Tommy's observation, Joel's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. “There was no date; I was actually still working at this dude’s house.”

“Then why did he? you began.

“Were you jealous?” he interrupted

You paused, caught off guard by Joel's interruption. The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. Your heart raced as you considered how to respond, unsure whether to admit the truth or deflect his inquiry.

"I... I don't know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Would it be bad? I mean, would it be that bad for me to have a date?” he teased, smirking at you.

Joel's teasing tone caught you off guard, and you felt a range of emotions rushing up inside you. Part of you wanted to dismiss his inquiry with a casual reply, while another part wanted to express how sensitive you are and hurt.

"Maybe" you said, your voice tinged with sorrow.

Joel's humorous tone faded when he understood the importance of his words. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand, and you automatically retreated, feeling a flash of weakness and uneasiness. His gaze shifted, and his eyes showed fear.

"I think that it's better if I go to stay at my parents' house." You said, a lump developing in your throat as you battled to hold back your tears.

"I think it's better if I go to stay at my parents' house." You announced, a lump growing in your throat as you tried to hold back tears. "I just... I need some space right now," you explained, your voice trembling with passion. "I need time to think about my feelings and figure things out."

He chuckled gently. "I think you're being dramatic." Joel's giggle broke the tension, leaving you taken aback and irritated. The lump in your throat became bigger as tears welled up in your eyes, and your heart ached from the burden of his words.

"You don't understand," you exclaimed, your voice shaking with emotion.

"Then make me!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were going to be happier without him, but it seems like you're just a gosht."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry for being sad over the fact that the man I was married to for the last years of my life built another family behind my back as if I were nothing!"

"Dwight doesn't deserve you; he never did," Joel said.

As Joel's remarks hung in the air, a tight silence fell over the room, interrupted only by the sound of your heavy breathing. His attempts to lighten the situation had only deepened the wound in your heart, leaving you feeling even more alone and misunderstood than before.

The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally let loose, running down your cheeks in silent streams as you battled to control yourself. Joel's words were like a punch in the face, a burning reminder of the treason and heartache you'd experienced at Dwight's hands.

"Oh, and who deserves me then?" You said, "Tell me; I want to know."

Joel just stated, "Someone better,” deep down knowing it was him.

"Like you?" you questioned.

"You can trust me," he reassured.

"No, I can't because I don't know you!" you stated.

"I'm the same Joel you met," he said back, trying to stop the storm from coming between you both.

"The one who became a ghost or broke my heart? Which one?" you demanded, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Look, I understand you are afraid of things, but if you think I'm going to say I wish I could get back in time and regret having my daughter for one second, you're crazy." He merely pointed out,

You chuckled as tears flowed down your cheeks. You tried to wipe them away, attempting to remain calm as you stared at Joel, hoping for some form of understanding.

"I never wanted you to regret having Sarah," you replied quietly, your voice tinged with sadness. “I know she's the best thing that ever happened to you.”

Joel's face softened in reaction to your words, with an instant of guilt running through his eyes as he saw the pain on your face. He reached out carefully, his hand gliding in the air between you as a silent gesture of comfort and understanding.

As Joel's palm finally touched yours, a sense of warmth and connection poured over you, spanning the gap that had threatened to separate you. In that moment, you sensed a glimmer of joy and a fresh belief in the possibilities of mending and healing.

"I know," Joel said quietly, his voice full of honesty. "And I am grateful for her every day. But that doesn't change how I feel about you or us. He paused. "Actually, there's something I need to confess."

"What do you mean?" you inquired, your tone barely above a whisper.

Joel took a long breath, his gaze never leaving yours as he began speaking. "Do you remember those nights I was working late? I wasn't only working, Doe. I was saving money."

Confusion flared in your eyes as you attempted to process his words. "Save money? For what?"

"For a ring," Joel said, his voice full of remorse and vulnerability. "I was planning to propose to you."

The air in your lungs became still as Joel's words sank in. Joel had kept this secret from you all these years, while you were struggling with self-esteem issues.

Tears welled in your eyes. "Did you buy before I left that night we broke?" you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

He nodded. "I wanted everything to be perfect," Joel confessed, his eyes filled with grief. "But then... things got complicated." "And I thought... I thought I had lost my chance with you."

"But you let me go," you stated, sounding weak due to the weight of your words, heavy with the distress of the past.

Joel's face softened, and his eyes reflected the grief that filled his heart. "I know, and I'll always regret that," he said, his voice tinged with sadness.

His eyebrows seemed to furrow with remorse as he took a look at your intense stare. "I was a coward," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I let my fear control me, and in doing so, I lost the most important thing I had in my life."

The vulnerability in Joel's admission resonated with the ache in your own heart. For years, you had carried the weight of his absence, wondering what could have been if only he had been brave enough to fight for you.

"I should have fought for us," Joel continued, his gaze locked with yours. "But I was too afraid of losing you, so I let you slip away."

“I need space, Joel,” you said. “And I deserve to be loved, so I’m not going to follow you or anybody else unless you show me that.”

Joel's shoulders sagged with the weight of your words, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and understanding. "I understand," he whispered, his voice heavy with remorse. "You deserve to be loved, and I've failed you in that regard."

As you spoke, a sense of clarity washed over you, a realization that you owed it to yourself to prioritize your own healing and well-being. You had spent too long waiting for someone else to validate your worth, and now you were ready to take control your choices.

"I won't ask you to follow me," Joel replied, his tone filled with resignation. "But I hope that someday I can show you the love and respect you deserve."

As you walked downstairs, the weight of your decision weighed heavily on your shoulders. Each step seemed like a bitter reminder of the past and an uncertain future. But with every stride, you felt a fresh resolution grow within you—a drive to reclaim control of your own life.

When you reached the bottom of the steps, you paused to collect your thoughts before heading toward the door. The sound of your footsteps echoed in the still room, providing an abrupt contrast to the turbulent emotions racing within you.

However, as you reached for the doorknob, a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Doe, wait."

You turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression full of anguish.

You turned to see Joel standing in the doorway, his expression full of anguish. His eyes pleaded with you, silently begging for the opportunity to set things right.

"I need to go," you replied, just above a whisper. "I cannot stay here, Joel."

Joel took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand," he replied, his voice tinged with regret. "You need space, but I have to tell you this before."

You hesitated, divided between the urge to leave and the need to hear Joel's words. With a disturbed heart, you nodded, quietly encouraging him to speak.

"I made a mistake that night," Joel said, his voice shaking with emotion. "I should've fought for you, Doe. I should have told you how much you meant to me instead of letting you leave."

You broke down in tears when you heard Joel's confession. For years, you had felt the weight of his absence, wondering if things could have turned out differently if he had been brave enough to fight for you.

"I'm sorry," Joel said quietly, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry for letting you go." He breathed in. "So that's why I'm doing this now."

“What?” you asked.

You furrowed your brow, attempting to make sense of his captivating comment. Before you could utter another word, Joel closed the distance between you, his movements swift yet gentle.

In an instant, his lips touched yours in a delicate kiss—a muttered plea for forgiveness and a promise of reconciliation. The world around you appeared to fade away as the warmth of his touch embraced you, washing away the layers of doubt and uncertainty that had tortured your heart for so long.

Joel knew words weren’t enough for you right now, and this swift action was the only way he found to pour and show all the love and promises he couldn’t save those years, being sealed in this very right moment.

Not letting you go this time was his first attempt to bring you back and offer you the life and love you deserved.

For a little moment, time stood still, and all that mattered was what you shared with Joel—a bond that transcended through the years.

Joel pulled away, his gaze fixed on yours, looking for any sign of recognition. His breath merged with yours, stealing what he believed was his. A silent exchange of emotions spoke volumes without the use of words.

"I can't let you go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not again, please stay with me," he pleaded, holding your face with his hands.

Joel's words lingered heavily in the air, echoing his desperation and need. You noticed a genuine desperation in his request, one that mirrored your own. You had ached for reassurance of his love for so long, and now as he stood before you, baring his soul, you couldn't resist the pull of your heart toward him.

"I don't want to leave," you said, just above a whisper. "But I need to know that this time is different, Joel. I need to know if you are willing to fight for us."

Joel nodded; his eyes full of purpose. "I am," he declared, his voice filled with passion. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right between us, to prove to you that you're the one I want, now and always."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met Joel's soulful gaze and noticed the depth of his love and honesty reflected in you. You lifted your hand while taking in the warmth of his face under your fingertips.

Feeling the warmth of Joel's touch under your fingertips, you took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Despite the overwhelming rush of love and longing, you knew that you needed time to process everything that had happened—to settle the chaos in your heart and mind.

"I need time," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "Time to process everything that's happened, time to heal, and time to figure out what I want."

Joel's expression softened, and his gaze filled with understanding. "I understand," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frazzled nerves. "Take all the time you need, baby. I'll be here waiting for you, I promise.”

Sarah

“Guys, it worked! They talked things out!”

Tara

No way! Seriously?

Tommy

So, my lie worked? What happened?

Sarah

They kissed! My dad is over the moon!

Tara

OMG, really?! I can't believe it!

Tommy

Wow, I didn't think our little plan would actually work.

Sarah

We just needed to give them a little push.

Tommy

We? I lied for you little girls.

Tara

I'm so happy for them. They belong together.

Tommy

Yeah, they do. Let's just hope they figure things out soon.

tags 💌: @joeldjarin @missladym1981 @yomiyasxx @aliengirl99 @lola8888673 @nottodaysattan @picketniffler @violinchick @sadgirlcheesecake @caitlynsixxx @luvwanda @sarahhxx03

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 22 days ago

Text

Possession: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Jimmy Uso fanfic.

Chapter 9: When it happened..

Flashback: May 5th, 2023

The echo of Damian Priest’s words rang through the locker room, the accusation slicing through Rhea Ripley’s defenses.

“He is cheating on you, Rhea!” Damian had yelled, his voice sharp with frustration.

Rhea’s face flushed with anger. “No, he is not! Jey would never cheat on me with Tiffany Stratton of all people!” Her voice was a mix of disbelief and fierce loyalty, but inside, a seed of doubt had already begun to sprout. She couldn’t let it grow. Not now. Not with everything on the line.

Damian didn’t back down. “I saw them, Rhea. Tiffany and Jey. They were sneaking into an empty closet together,” he said, his words practically dripping with venom.

Her heart pounded in her chest, the weight of his words pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. No, she thought. No, this isn’t happening. She shook her head vehemently. “You’re just jealous of me and Jey’s relationship!”

Damian’s eyes flashed with anger. “I would never be jealous of a fucking cheater!” He shot back, his voice cutting through her denial like a hot knife.

The words stung more than they should have, but Rhea wasn’t ready to face the truth. Not yet. “I’m so fucking done with this!” she snapped, her fists clenching at her sides. “Every damn day since I told you about him… it’s a fucking argument with you! I’m not dealing with this anymore.”

Damian raised his hands in exasperation. “You know what? I don’t care.” He took a deep breath, as if calming himself before delivering his next blow. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but Hunter asked me if The Judgment Day should split up. And you know what? I’m gonna go tell him.”

Rhea’s heart dropped. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Hunter? Was this what it had come to? Her family turning on her, all because she dared to trust Jey?

“Well, fine,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice cold. “Go for it. I don’t need you.”

With that, Damian stormed out of the locker room, leaving Rhea alone in the silence. She sat down heavily on the bench, her head in her hands, her mind a storm of confusion and hurt. The anger still simmered, but underneath it was something deeper—dread.

The thought of Jey betraying her… it was unthinkable. But now, with Damian’s words haunting her, she couldn’t push the idea away completely. She had loved Jey. Trusted him more than anyone. But was he really capable of this? Could it all have been a lie?

The minutes dragged by, stretching into what felt like hours. Rhea’s thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t stop herself from spiraling.

Later that night, everything would change. The Judgment Day’s betrayal came swiftly, unexpectedly. During the evening’s show, as Rhea made her way to the ring, the members of The Judgment Day—Damian, Finn Balor, and Dominik Mysterio—turned on her without hesitation.

The crowd went wild with shock, their boos ringing out as the trio stood united against Rhea. Rhea’s heart sank as she looked around at the men she once considered family. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

No, the worst part came next.

Liv Morgan stepped forward from the shadows, a smirk on her face. Rhea’s stomach twisted as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Liv? Her former ally? Now, the newest member of The Judgment Day?

The sting of the betrayal was sharp, even though a part of Rhea was told the finish, but knowing it was coming didn’t make it hurt any less.

As Liv posed in the ring, side by side with Damian, Finn, and Dominik, Rhea stood frozen. Her heart felt like it had been ripped out of her chest, and for the first time in a long time, she felt completely alone.

Her body felt heavy, the weight of the moment threatening to crush her. Everything she had worked for, everything she had trusted, was slipping through her fingers. And now, the last person she had left—Jey—was the one who had caused the destruction.

After the betrayal, it only got worse. Fans stopped caring if Rhea was on the card. The momentum she once had was gone, replaced by the sense that she was now irrelevant. She went from being one of the most feared competitors in WWE to someone whose name barely caused a stir.

But that all changed on June 16th when she would receive the call from Jey.. the call that made her relevant once more.. but this time as a mixed tag team competitor.

—

While Rhea was experiencing with the betrayal of The Judgment Day, Jey was unknowingly deepening his own betrayal. It was supposed to be a onetime thing—a fleeting moment of weakness-but the temptation felt too strong for him to ignore.

In the dimly lit hallway backstage, Jey's lips pressed urgently against Tiffany Stratton's, the once-clear lines of loyalty now blurred by desire.

He pulled away from her, breath heavy, eyes searching for clarity in the storm of emotions crashing through him.

"We shouldn't be doing this," Jey muttered, his voice strained, guilt already beginning to gnaw at him. He pulled back, his hand still resting on Tiffany's waist, unsure of what to do with it.

Tiffany looked up at him, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. "But you want this, don't you?" Her voice was soft, teasing, and filled with an edge of challenge. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing his chest as if testing his resolve.

Jey's mind raced, conflicting thoughts whirling through his head. "It's just... you're different than Rhea," he muttered, though even he wasn't entirely sure what that meant. He could see Tiffany was beautiful-elegant in a way that felt fresh and alluring-but was it enough to make him forget about everything he had with Rhea? Tiffany raised an eyebrow, sensing the crack in his armor. "What do you mean different?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and something darker-something more dangerous.

Jey hesitated, his gaze flicking to the floor, then back to Tiffany. "You're more feminine," he admitted, the words feeling foreign on his tongue.

"But don't get this twisted. It's just a one-time thing, alright? Nothing more."

Tiffany smiled coyly, a glint of something mischievous in her eyes. She leaned in close, her breath brushing his ear as she whispered, "We'll see about that."

Before Jey could respond, Tiffany pulled away from him, her steps light and carefree as she skipped off, leaving him standing there with the weight of what he had just done settling heavily on his chest.

A part of him felt guilty-he loved Rhea, had sworn loyalty to her. But another part of him, buried beneath the fog of lust and confusion, wanted to see where this path with Tiffany might lead. The guilt, however, was unavoidable.

As Jey stood there, alone in the hallway, the pieces of his own betrayal began to fall into place.

He had done something that could never be undone. But he pushed it away, refusing to confront it. For now, he would focus on the excitement of the moment, ignoring the fallout that would inevitably come.

—

Present Time.

“THAT WAS SO COOL!” Rhea exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement as she walked alongside Roman and Jimmy after their fiery promo against the old Bloodline. Her energy was contagious, and her enthusiasm filled the backstage corridor.

Roman let out a deep, hearty laugh, shaking his head at the younger wrestler’s exuberance. “You’ve got a knack for this, huh?” he teased, the corners of his lips quirking up in amusement.

“I HIT A MAN WITH A CHAIR!” Rhea yelled, her voice echoing through the hallway. Her grin was wide, and her eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy, making both Roman and Jimmy chuckle as they tried to calm her down.

“You hit him twice,” Jimmy corrected, smirking as he nudged her shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

Rhea grinned even wider at the reminder, her adrenaline still pumping from the promo. But just as the trio turned the corner, the air shifted. They found themselves face-to-face with Damian Priest and Dominik Mysterio—Rhea’s old family, the ones who had once been everything to her.

Rhea stopped dead in her tracks, her earlier excitement evaporating in an instant. Her body tensed, and the wide smile on her face faded into a neutral expression.

Damian was the first to speak, managing a small, hesitant smile. “Welcome back, Roman,” he said, nodding respectfully at the Tribal Chief.

Roman gave a slight nod in return, but his focus shifted to Rhea, who was unusually quiet. Damian’s gaze followed Roman’s and landed on her. “Rhea,” he said softly, acknowledging her presence. His tone was neither warm nor cold—just… there.

Rhea nodded in response, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Damian.”

Dominik chimed in, his voice lighter, though it carried an edge. “Good job with that ‘Elevated Bloodline’ name,” he said, crossing his arms. “Can’t wait to see what you do next, Rhea.”

“Thanks,” Rhea replied, her voice low and lacking its usual confidence. She avoided their eyes, keeping her focus somewhere over Damian’s shoulder.

Jimmy, noticing the shift in her energy, stepped forward slightly, his protective instincts kicking in. “What are you guys doing here?” he asked, his tone more defensive than conversational.

Damian shrugged, his expression remaining neutral. “Liv’s got a feud with Ms. Money in the Bank, Tiffany Stratton,” he explained. “Just here to help is all.”

“Well… you guys have fun,” she said curtly, already taking a step back.

Damian nodded, his eyes lingering on her for a moment. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” he said, his voice softer now, almost like an olive branch.

With that, Damian and Dominik turned and walked away, their presence fading as quickly as it had arrived. Rhea let out a long, shaky sigh, watching them leave until they disappeared around the corner.

Roman, sensing her tension, tilted his head and asked, “You okay?”

Rhea blinked, snapping out of her daze. She looked up at Roman, her face betraying a mix of emotions she didn’t know how to articulate. “Just… missing old times,” she admitted softly, her voice tinged with sadness.

Jimmy and Roman exchanged a brief glance, both of them noticing the way her energy had plummeted since the encounter. Neither of them pressed her further, though—they knew better than to push when she wasn’t ready to talk.

The trio continued down the hallway in silence, the weight of the past lingering in the air. For Rhea, the excitement of earlier felt like a distant memory, replaced by an ache she thought she’d buried long ago.

—

As Roman and Rhea entered the spacious hotel suite, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Rhea, still subdued from the earlier encounter, headed straight for her bedroom without a word. But before she could disappear behind the door, Roman’s deep voice stopped her.

“Let’s talk real quick.”

Rhea froze, her hand resting on the doorknob. She let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders dropping slightly, before turning back toward the living area. Roman had already taken a seat on the plush couch, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his sharp eyes locked on her.

Reluctantly, she crossed the room and sat down in the armchair across from him. She didn’t say anything, just waited for him to speak.

Roman’s tone was measured, calm yet probing. “Now, I’m not the kind of guy who relies heavily on friendships. But I’ve seen you, Rhea. You’ve always valued loyalty, the people close to you. So… what happened between you and Damian? Because from what I’ve heard—and what Jey used to say—about a year ago you two were inseparable.”

Rhea’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she exhaled slowly, leaning back in her chair. “It’s complicated,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on a random spot on the floor.

“Uncomplicate it,” Roman said simply, his voice steady.

Rhea hesitated, running a hand through her hair. “When I first started seeing Jey, Damian hated it. He said it would distract me, that it was a mistake to mix my personal life with my career. We argued about it… a lot.” She paused, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Then one day, Damian came to me and told me he saw Jey and Tiffany together. He said they were sneaking into an empty closet.”

Roman’s expression remained neutral, though his eyes sharpened as he listened. He didn’t interrupt, letting her continue.

“I didn’t believe him,” Rhea said, her voice growing quieter. “Jey wasn’t that type of man—I thought Damian was just jealous or trying to control me. We fought about it, and… well, that was the beginning of the end. He told Hunter to go through with the Judgement Day split and he stopped trying to talk to me after that, he even blocked my number.”

Roman leaned back slightly, his jaw tightening as he processed her words. He studied her closely, the way her voice wavered, the way she avoided meeting his eyes. There was something she wasn’t saying, something buried beneath the surface of her explanation.

As Rhea continued to talk, Roman’s mind started piecing things together—a realization began to form, quiet but undeniable, settling heavily in his chest.

That realization being that Jey lied to him.. and Jimmy was right… she deserved someone better.

—

Flashback: June 9th, 2023

The air in the locker room was thick with tension as Jey walked in, still slightly sweaty from his earlier match. He grabbed a towel, patting his face as he made his way to his usual spot. Roman was already there, seated on the bench with a focused, almost brooding expression. Jey noticed the shift in his cousin’s demeanor immediately.

“What’s good, Uce?” Jey asked, tossing the towel over his shoulder.

Roman took a deep breath, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “We need to talk,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of seriousness.

Jey raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering. “Yeah? ‘Bout what?”

Roman gestured for him to sit, and Jey reluctantly plopped down next to him, the weight of the moment sinking in. Roman didn’t speak right away, choosing his words carefully. Finally, he broke the silence.

“How are things with you and Rhea?” Roman asked, his tone casual but his eyes studying Jey closely.

Jey gave a small shrug, leaning back against the lockers. “Things are good. No complaints. She’s been busy, but we’re solid.”

Roman let out a dry chuckle and cleared his throat. “Really?” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “Because your brother just came in here earlier and said he saw you getting cozy with Tiffany Stratton.”

The smile vanished from Jey’s face. He stopped fidgeting with the towel and looked down at his hands, the guilt washing over him like a wave. Roman didn’t press him, letting the silence hang in the air like a weight.

After what felt like an eternity, Jey finally spoke. “Alright… yeah. I’ve been… seeing Tiff for about a month now,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Roman.

Roman’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching. “A month?” he repeated, his voice laced with quiet disappointment. “You’ve been lying to her for a month, Jey? To Rhea?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Jey said quickly, his voice tinged with desperation. “It just… it got outta hand, Uce. I swear I care about Rhea, but Tiff—she’s—” He stopped, realizing there was no excuse that would make this right.

Roman sat back, crossing his arms. “I’m gonna tell her.”

Jey’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “No, no, no! Don’t do that, Uce. Please,” he begged. “I’ll tell her. I promise. I’ll tell her tonight.”

Roman’s gaze was cold, his disappointment evident. “You’d better,” he said sharply. “Because if you don’t, I will.”

Jey nodded, his hands shaking slightly as he wiped them on his jeans. “I’ll do it,” he muttered. “Tonight.”

Roman didn’t say another word. He stood up, towering over Jey for a moment before walking out of the locker room, leaving his cousin alone with the weight of his choices.

—

Flashback: June 16th, 2023

The backstage area buzzed with activity as the crew prepared for the upcoming show. Roman navigated the maze of hallways, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of the impending meeting. He hadn’t seen Jey since their last conversation a week ago, and the unease gnawed at him. He’d promised Rhea answers if Jey didn’t deliver them himself, and he was determined to ensure his cousin didn’t try to dodge his responsibility.

As Roman approached catering, the unmistakable sound of laughter caught his attention. There he was—Jey, sitting at a table, eating and chatting animatedly with a few crew members. Roman couldn’t help but feel a flicker of irritation at how carefree Jey seemed.

“Yo, Uce,” Roman called as he walked over.

Jey glanced up, flashing a grin. “What’s up, Uce?” he said, pushing a chair out for Roman to sit. “You ready for this meeting? I feel like it’s gonna be fire.”

Roman eased into the seat next to him, watching Jey closely. There was an ease about his cousin that Roman found hard to reconcile with the situation. He decided to cut straight to the point.

“You talk to Rhea yet?” Roman asked, his tone casual but laced with an undercurrent of authority.

Jey didn’t falter. “Yeah, man,” he said, nodding as he took another bite of his sandwich. “I told her everything.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, skepticism creeping into his expression. “And?”

Jey shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “She was mad, obviously. But she got over it already.”

Roman tilted his head, studying Jey intently. Something didn’t sit right. “Rhea Ripley got over you cheating on her?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Jey chuckled nervously, running a hand over his hair. “I mean… yeah, Uce. She punched me, said some things, but, you know, we worked through it. It’s done now.”

Roman’s eyes narrowed. His instincts told him there was more to the story, but he decided not to press further. For now.

What Roman didn’t know—what Jey wasn’t saying—was that he was still lying. He hadn’t told Rhea anything. The guilt gnawed at him, but he buried it deep, pretending everything was fine. After all, in Jey’s mind, what Rhea didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

But secrets had a way of surfacing at the right time and place..

—

Present Time

“HE DID CHEAT ON YOU!”

Rhea sat frozen for a moment, Roman’s outburst echoing in her ears. She stared at him as he downed another shot of whiskey, the tension between them thick and suffocating. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

Finally, she muttered, “I’m going to go shower.” Her voice was quiet, almost distant.

Roman looked at her, his expression softening slightly as he realized how shaken she was. He didn’t say anything, just nodded as she rose from the couch.

Rhea walked briskly to her bedroom, closing the door behind her with a firm click. She locked it, her back pressed against the wood as she let out a shaky breath. The tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over, and she slid down to the floor, her head resting in her hands.

Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, guilt. She felt like a hypocrite. How could she be upset about Jey’s betrayal when she had been doing the same thing with Jimmy? Was she even allowed to feel this pain, this regret?

Standing up, she crossed the room and entered the bathroom, turning on the shower. The sound of the water was soothing, almost drowning out the noise in her head. She stripped off her clothes and stepped under the stream, letting the warmth wash over her.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest. The memories flooded back—the way Jey used to look at her, the way she felt when Jimmy touched her, and now Roman’s words cutting through all of it like a blade.

She leaned against the shower wall, her forehead pressed to the cool tile. What am I doing? she thought to herself. She felt like she was spiraling, caught in a web of lies and mistakes she didn’t know how to untangle.

As the water cascaded over her, Rhea made a silent vow to figure out what she wanted—to stop running from the truth and to finally confront everything she’d been avoiding. But for now, all she could do was stand there, hoping the water would wash away the weight of it all, even if only for a little while.

Back in the living room, Roman sat with his head in his hands, the whiskey bottle forgotten on the table. He stared at the floor, his mind racing. He knew he’d crossed a line with his outburst, but he also knew Rhea needed to hear the truth.

“Damn it, Jey,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure how to fix this mess, but one thing was certain—things couldn’t stay the way they were. Something had to give.

#jey uso #rhea ripley #fanfiction #rhea and jey #wwe raw #wwe smackdown #yeet #wwe #the judgement day #fanfic #rhea x jey #rhea ripley and jey uso #rhea and jimmy #rhea x jimmy #wwe the bloodline #wwe the usos

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discount-shades · 2 years ago

Text

Sleepy Baby Part 9

a/n: It’s the weekend, Hooray!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin X reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1300 ish

Summary: Jake doesn't listen.

Previous Masterlist Next

Despite living in San Diego for close to a year you still did not know many people. When you had first arrived you had still been isolating yourself. In time you slowly began to rebuild your sense of self after the betrayal and death of your fiancé. It felt good to be in a new city. Your coworkers didn't know of your past so they had no reason to treat you like you were about to shatter.

When you had begun to open up to people Jake had arrived in your life and taken over. You spent most of your free time together, and when you weren't alone with Jake you were with his friends from the Navy. After he told you he loved you Jake had begun to invite you to more of the team's activities. You found yourself caught up in his life and with his friends.

Everyone was welcoming to you as Jake's girlfriend. The running joke was that Jake was much more bearable since the two of you got together; you did have a tendency to tease Jake every time his ego got a little out of control so there was probably some truth to it.

As nice as everyone was, you were relieved when your coworker Grace had invited you to join her and a group of friends on a hike to Eagle Rock one weekend. You had almost been giddy with excitement when you told Jake about your hike. You felt like Grace was one of the first new friends you had made.

The Friday before the hike found you and Jake once again hanging out with the Dagger Squad. You were sitting next to Bob on the couch telling him about your next day's hike and he was giving you advice on staying hydrated in the desert. You grew up hiking in the Pacific Northwest, but hiking in the desert was new to you and you were always willing to learn from someone with more experience.

Jake walks over and flops on the couch beside you. “Hey, tomorrow we are going to the Hard Deck to play dogfight football, it’ll be fun.” He kisses your cheek and you roll your eyes at his forgetfulness.

“No, you can go play football, I’m hiking out to Eagle Rock with Grace,” you pat his cheek fondly. “We will see who is more tired at the end of the day.”

“No, I’ll take you to Eagle Rock on Sunday or next weekend,” he wraps his arm around you casually and you immediately tense. Jake can feel the tightness in your shoulders and goes to speak again and you cut him off.

“Let's talk about it later.” You pat his leg and smile stiffly, keenly aware of Bob watching the interaction between you. You can feel Jake's eyes on you all evening and try to relax and act natural.

On the drive home Jake was telling you all about dogfight football. “You’re going to love it.”

“I’m sure I will,” you tell him as Jake parks his truck in his driveway next to your car, “next time you guys play.” the two of you get out and walk inside.

“You have to come, I told Rooster that both of us would be there.” You roll your eyes. Jake is too used to you always being free.

“You are just going to have to tell him you forgot I was busy,” you try to stay calm. It is not up to you to make Jake remember things. Bradley would get over you not being there, he was still a little salty over you beating him at poker.

“I didn’t forget, I thought we could just go hiking another day.” Jake's response makes you freeze. You can feel the warmth of frustration rolling up your neck and settling in your cheeks.

“But I told you I was going with Grace.” The two of you are standing apart from each other in the middle of Jake’s living room.

“Yeah but I will take you another day,” Jake just shrugs as he sits down on the couch. “It will be more fun if we go together.”

“But I made plans to go with Grace,” Jake's casual reaction causes anger to overtake your frustration and you take deep breaths to try to keep yourself calm.

“Yeah, but she has others going with her so you can go with me.” Jake says in a very placating manner and it has the opposite effect on you.

“I said I’d go with her and her friends!” You feel like a skipping record the way you keep repeating yourself but your mind feels scrambled. You are never very coherent in an argument and in your frustration you can't think of what to say to make Jake understand. “I want to go with Grace.”

“Yeah but the Squad will be expecting you to be there.”

“Who’s fault is that?” you snap. “They are your friends Jake!” He is taken aback by your outburst.

“Kisses, they like you too,” Jake says soothingly, “They are fine with you being there.”

“That’s not the point,” You stomp your foot in frustration and immediately feel foolish for doing it. “My friendship with them is completely dependent on my relationship with you.” Jake is silent staring up at you. His brow is furrowed. “I don’t have any friends!”

“But the squad—.”

“NO JAKE!” Your shout catches both of you by surprise and you can feel tears prickle the back of your eyes. Arguments always make you cry and your emotions are quickly spiraling out of control.

“You’re not listening, I don’t have a life Jake, I have you, a job, and your friends.” You can feel the tears falling down your face. “I’ve done this before,” you are now frantically trying to wipe your tears. “I shared everything with Ian and when he was gone I lost everything and I told myself I would never do that again.

“Don’t compare me to that asshole!” Jake is not yelling but he is loud and indignant. He is on his feet and you have never seen him so upset. “I would never do that to you.”

“I’m not comparing you to that asshole,” you say, matching Jake's tone. “I’m comparing ‘me with you’ to ‘me with him’,” you gesture emphatically to your chest every time you say ‘me’. “I promised myself I would be different this time, I need to have my own life.”

There is silence after your confession. “How do I fix this?” Jake is now starting to tear up. Your energy is feeding into his and he begins to pace the room. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing!” Jake stops and stares at you. “It’s not about you! I don’t want you to do anything, I want to have my own friends and go hiking with them!” You are crying and stomping your feet again.

All your resentment and anger and grief at your past is coming up and bubbling out of you. “I want my parents alive again! I want my fiancé to have not cheated on me with my best friend!” Jake shoulders slump and he is staring at you with a defeated look.

“I want friends that didn’t lie to me for almost a decade!” You take a breath but you can't stop. “I want to not have had everything ripped away from me! I want Ian's parents to not blame me! I want to be able to trust people! I want to be able to tell you that I love you without being terrified it will hurt more if I say the words.”

You press your hands to your lips at what you have just said and Jake's face is a riot of emotions. Elation and heartbreak being the main two. “Kisses,” his voice is a soft murmur and he moves slowly toward you, reaching out, scared that you will pull away.

“I want to sleep at my place tonight.” your voice is panicky and barely above a whisper when you turn and run.

You are already reversing out of the driveway when Jake runs out. You try not to look at him as you speed away and you feel as if you’ve ruined the best thing that’s ever happened to you.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #topgun #hangman topgun

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storyscribeforthesentiment · 3 months ago

Text

the detective & the dark knight | chapter 7

Summary: Detective Marie Manning, investigating a series of brutal murders in Gotham, crosses paths with the mysterious Batman. As they work together, their mutual respect turns into a deep, passionate bond. Amidst danger and corruption, their unlikely partnership evolves into a profound love, forever changing their lives in Gotham’s dark corners.

Pairing: Batman/Bruce Wayne x f!main character

Author’s note: Buckle in for a rollercoaster of emo. We’ve got Bruce, the king of brooding, drowning in guilt because, surprise—deception isn’t a great foundation for a relationship. And then there’s Marie, who’s understandably hurt about the lies... but she’s also battling the very real urge to kiss his ridiculously handsome face. Enjoy!

Word count: 6k

Warnings/tags: mentions of gun violence, police bribes, fighting, murder

Chapter List

Marie stepped into the dimly lit study of Wayne Manor, her heart racing as the heavy silence of the mansion pressed down on her. The aftermath of the fight at the docks was still fresh in her mind—gunfire, screams, Maroni—and the terrifying sight of Bruce, beaten and bleeding, lingered.

She hadn’t been able to stay away. Not until she knew for sure that he was still breathing.

Bruce is Batman. Bruce is Batman. Bruce is Batman.

The thought played over in her head.

Her boots squeaked against the ground, covered in mud and blood—Bruce's blood. Her entire body shook as her sweaty curls clung to the side of her face.

She had stayed at the docks long enough for Gordon to get taken away by the ambulance, and for Bullock and the other detectives to arrive and take her story.

She gave them a brief account of what had happened, but she didn't mention a word about Bruce's secret.

Alfred looked up as she entered, his hands steady, though his expression was tight with worry. He was standing beside Bruce, who laid unconscious on a long, oak table.

Alfred’s gloved hands were soaked with blood, carefully stitching up a deep gash on Bruce’s abdomen. Bloodied bandages were scattered around, and Bruce’s face was pale, bruised, the life nearly drained from him.

"Miss Marie," Alfred greeted quietly, his voice a calm but somber presence in the room. "He’ll be alright. The worst is over."

She didn’t reply right away, her eyes locked on Bruce, deeply injured and so vulnerable.

It wasn’t the man she was used to seeing, not the stoic and invincible Batman, or the sweet and affectionate Bruce. This was a hurt man, flesh and blood, raw and wounded. It felt too real—too human.

Alfred noticed her hesitation. “I was a medic in the army,” he said, as if offering some comfort through the explanation. “This isn’t my first time doing fieldwork.”

Marie stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Have you had to stitch him up before?”

Her question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Alfred paused, his needle poised midair, before he looked up at her, understanding in his eyes. There was no need to say it outright. She already knew. He nodded slowly.

“Yes,” Alfred admitted softly, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken truth.

Marie swallowed hard, her throat tight, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she stood beside Bruce, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin, despite how cold and weak he looked.

She gently touched his battered, sweat-soaked face, a whirlwind of emotions surging through her—gratitude for saving her life, betrayal for the lies he’d kept, and a deep respect for his work as the Dark Knight.

Hours passed, but she didn’t leave his side. She watched his chest rise and fall, counting every breath as if each one was a fragile reassurance that he’d survive this.

The anger she’d felt earlier—the hurt over his lies, the unresolved tension between them—it could all wait. Right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that he was alive.

As long as he was alive, there was still time.

—-------------------------------

Days had passed, and Marie had spent most of them holed up in her apartment. The silence was comforting at first, but now it felt stifling. Her precinct had granted her a brief leave from work, an opportunity to recover and process everything that had happened.

But there was only so much time she could spend staring at the same four walls, replaying the events over and over in her head.

With no word from Alfred that Bruce had regained consciousness, Marie knew it was time to visit again.

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the steering wheel, Gotham's city lights blurring past in a haze. Rain drummed against the windshield, each drop echoing the turmoil raging inside her.

Every part of her wanted to scream, to let out the anger and confusion tearing her apart. If Bruce was awake, she wasn’t even sure what she would say to him.

She couldn’t stop thinking about all the moments that suddenly made sense—the little things she had overlooked, the times Batman had been just a little too familiar, too protective, too... Bruce.

Had he started dating her for a reason that had nothing to do with love? Maybe he’d seen it as a way to have a cop in his corner—an inside track on cases and information, someone to clean up his messes when the vigilante work crossed lines.

Was she just an asset, a useful tool to him?

Marie hit the steering wheel, a curse escaping her lips. “Goddamnit, Bruce.”

She felt stupid for not seeing it sooner, but more than that, she felt betrayed. All those moments when she thought they were connecting, when Bruce had opened up to her—how much of it had been real?

The rain picked up as she drove, her wipers barely keeping up with the downpour. She replayed conversations in her head. There had been moments—many moments—where Bruce had asked about her work, about cases, even if it was in passing. What if those moments weren’t casual? What if they were calculated?

Her stomach twisted with each memory. It was as if the pieces of the puzzle had been in front of her all along, but she hadn’t been ready to see the full picture.

And now, she couldn’t unsee it.

Bruce. Batman.

Was their whole relationship built on lies?

Marie pulled into the long, winding driveway of Wayne Manor, her heart racing as she approached the mansion’s towering silhouette. As much as she wanted answers, part of her wasn’t ready for them.

“Fuck.” She muttered under her breath.

Marie killed the engine, sitting in the dark silence of the car for a long moment. The mansion loomed ahead, cold and imposing.

Taking a deep breath, Marie stepped out of the car, her boots sinking into the gravel as she approached the front door. Alfred was the one who greeted her, as always, his expression calm and measured. But tonight, there was something different in his eyes—a heaviness she hadn’t seen before.

“Detective Manning,” Alfred said softly, opening the door wider to let her in. “I assume you’ve come to check on Master Wayne again?”

She nodded, stepping into the grand foyer. “Is he okay?”

Alfred’s face gave away nothing. “He is.”

Marie swallowed, unsure how to approach what was really on her mind. She paused, glancing around the mansion before turning back to Alfred. “How long have you known?” she asked, her voice low, almost accusatory. “That Bruce is... that he’s Batman?”

Alfred’s expression didn’t falter. “I’ve known for quite some time.”

Marie nodded slowly. “How is he doing, really? Physically, I mean.”

“He’s sleeping, hasn’t woken up since he got back. His injuries were severe, but not life-threatening, thanks to... well, you and Commissioner Gordon.” Alfred paused, his eyes softening as he looked at her, assessing the concern on Marie’s face. “He’s come back from far worse injuries than this. I know he’ll pull through.”

Marie exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. “I’m glad to hear that.” She took a step toward the door, her mind still buzzing with too many questions.

Alfred straightened his posture, his gaze steady and thoughtful. “Detective Manning,” he called softly. His voice was calm but deliberate, like a man who’d seen more than his fair share of heartbreak. “I don’t mean to overstep, but if I may?”

Marie stopped, turning back to face him. Her demeanor softened at the familiar warmth in Alfred’s tone. “Go ahead, Alfred.”

He cleared his throat, taking a careful step closer. “Master Wayne may live behind a mask, but his feelings for you are genuine, Miss Marie. He doesn’t let many people in. You’re one of the very few he’s ever truly cared about.”

Marie shook her head, the knot of confusion in her chest tightening. “Then why lie? Why keep everything from me?” Her voice cracked slightly as she spoke, the sting of betrayal sharp and fresh

“Was he just using me? Did he see dating me as some sort of way to get information? For the last few days, that’s all I’ve been able to think about.” Her eyes flashed with the anger she’d been holding in.

Alfred’s face softened, and he let out a quiet sigh. “No, Miss Marie. It wasn’t like that. I think Master Wayne appreciates how you can understand him well beyond others can. You both lost parents too young, and that pain—that drive—it shaped who you are, just as it shaped him. You both fight for justice, though in different ways. And believe me, he respects you, deeply.”

Marie’s eyes flickered, caught off guard by the vulnerability in Alfred’s words. She bit her lip, fighting back the mixture of frustration and doubt swirling inside her. “But he still lied. He could’ve told me. I thought we were...” She paused, searching for the right words. “I thought we were partners. More than that.”

Alfred nodded, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering. "Bruce fell for you, unexpectedly. He’s never cared for someone the way he cares for you."

Marie crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked away. “How do I know that’s true? How do I know I wasn’t just another part of his... plan?”

Alfred shook his head gently. “Because I’ve seen him with you. The way he is when you’re around. He’s... different. Less burdened, even if just for a moment.

You give him something he’s never had—a reason to believe in more than just vengeance.” He paused, then added, “It’s not easy for him, being with someone. Not when he spends every night risking his life. But he does have deep feelings for you, Miss Marie. That, I’m certain of.”

The room fell silent for a moment as Alfred’s words lingered in the air. Marie wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that Bruce’s feelings were real, that their connection hadn’t been built on lies.

But the hurt was still there.

“I just... I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “I don't know if I’ll ever be able to trust him again.” Her tone was harsher than she’d expected.

Alfred stepped closer, his expression compassionate. “Trust is earned, Miss Marie. And I can’t promise you that it’ll be easy. But I know Bruce—better than anyone. And if there’s one thing I can tell you, it’s that he will do everything in his power to earn back that trust. He won’t give up on you.”

Marie’s heart clenched at the words, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her. She let out a slow breath, feeling a mixture of exhaustion and heartache. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Alfred nodded, his eyes kind. “And that’s okay. Take your time, Miss Marie. But please, don’t doubt for a moment that you mean the world to him.”

Marie stood there for a long moment, absorbing Alfred’s words. Part of her wanted to run—run from the confusion, from the hurt, from the overwhelming realization that Bruce had been living a double life this entire time. But another part of her couldn’t deny the truth in Alfred’s voice.

She approached the door, her hand hovering over the doorknob. In a quiet voice, she murmured, “Thank you,” her words lingering in the air before she paused, adding softly, “For everything.”

Alfred gave her a small, understanding nod. “Of course, Miss Marie. I’m always here, should you need anything.”

With a final glance back toward the door leading to Bruce’s room, Marie turned and left, her heart heavy but her mind racing with questions she wasn’t sure she could answer yet.

—-------------------------------

The first thing Bruce felt when he regained consciousness was the sharp, deep throb in his side. It wasn’t the usual dull ache of a bruise or the fleeting sting of a cut; this pain was sharper, more insistent, gnawing at him with every shallow breath.

His body resisted movement, as if it was demanding he stay still. Every ache was a heavy reminder of the damage he’d taken.

His eyes fluttered open, and the world around him slowly came into focus. The dim light filtered through the thick curtains of his bedroom in Wayne Manor, casting long shadows that danced across the room.

He groaned softly, the mere act of turning his head sending a bolt of pain through his ribs and down to his side. He lifted his hand, feeling the thick bandages wrapped around his torso.

As he tried to shift and sit up, his body betrayed him. A burning sensation flared in his side, the fresh stitches tugging at the skin, forcing him to freeze. He barely stifled another groan when a figure moved into his peripheral vision—Alfred.

“You’re awake,” Alfred said, his voice a rare mixture of relief and caution. His usual calmness was tinged with concern as he approached the bedside. He placed a firm but gentle hand on Bruce’s shoulder, urging him to stay down. “Easy now, Master Wayne. Let’s not undo the work those stitches are holding together.”

“How long was I out?” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, more from the exhaustion than any real injury to his throat.

Alfred paused, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Three days,” he said softly. “You’ve been out for three days, and quite frankly, you needed every hour of it.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed. Three days? He tried to sit up again, but the stitches in his side screamed in protest. His body still felt sluggish, as if it hadn’t quite caught up to his mind.

“I’ve been asleep for three days?” Bruce echoed, his disbelief mingled with the irritation of feeling helpless. His mind raced to the events before—he remembered the fight, the blade slicing through the gap in his armor, the blood that followed.

“How bad is it?” Bruce asked, gritting his teeth against the pain. He’d dealt with wounds before, but this... this felt worse.

Alfred’s expression grew more serious as he stood beside the bed. “You took a deep cut to your side, Master Wayne. It missed your kidney by mere inches. Several stitches were required, not to mention the blood loss. You’ll recover, but not without giving your body the proper time to heal.”

Bruce exhaled slowly, trying to process the severity of his injuries. His instinct was to push through the pain, to get up and continue his work. But his body felt like lead, weighed down by the reality of how close he’d come to serious, possibly fatal damage.

Alfred adjusted the blanket over Bruce, his voice softening. “You’ve faced worse, of course. But this time, you were fortunate.”

His thoughts wandered to the fight. To Marie. He had left her there. Did she make it out? Was she safe? The thought of her, of leaving her behind, gnawed at him. He forced his eyes open again, looking at Alfred with a question forming on his lips, but before he could speak, Alfred seemed to read his mind.

“She’s fine,” Alfred said softly. “Detective Manning came to check on you, in fact. Twice.”

Bruce’s eyes widened slightly. “She... she came here?”

Alfred nodded. “Yes, sir. She arrived shortly after the fight, anxious to hear about your condition. I told her the truth, that you’d be fine in time. She stayed for several hours the first night, and she visited briefly again yesterday.” He paused, his expression softening. “You were out both times, of course.”

Bruce’s chest tightened, and without thinking, he tried to sit up again. The sudden motion sent a wave of fiery pain through his side, but he pushed through it, gritting his teeth. “I need to see her.”

Alfred’s hand was immediately on his shoulder again, this time more forceful. “Sir, please. You’re in no condition to—”

“I need to talk to her, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was raw, his tone almost desperate.

Alfred sighed, his grip on Bruce firm as he gently pressed him back down onto the bed. “She left hours ago, Master Wayne. There’s no point in pushing yourself to go after her right now. You’ll only make things worse.”

Bruce exhaled sharply, the tension in his body momentarily giving way to frustration. He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to breathe through the pain, through the regret.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, the exhaustion creeping back into his tone.

“You needed the rest, sir. More than you realize.” Alfred stepped back slightly, giving Bruce space to process. “You’ve been pushing yourself harder than ever, and it’s taken a toll on you, whether you want to admit it or not.”

Bruce didn’t respond immediately. His mind was too clouded with thoughts of Marie, of the last conversation they had before everything went wrong. He could still see the look in her eyes—the hurt, the confusion.

“Did she... say anything?” Bruce asked quietly.

Alfred hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “She asked about you. About... why you didn’t tell her the truth.” He paused, his gaze softening. “She’s hurt, Master Wayne. But she’s not beyond understanding.”

Bruce’s chest ached, but not from the physical pain. It was the thought of Marie, of what he’d put her through, that weighed on him now.

“She cares for you, sir,” Alfred added, his voice soft. “But you’ll have to decide what to do with that.”

Bruce didn’t respond, but Alfred’s words settled heavily in the room. He knew he couldn’t keep running from this. He couldn’t keep pushing Marie away.

But for now, all he could do was lie there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how he was going to make things right.

—-------------------------------

It had been over a week since the night at the docks, and back at the Gotham City Police Department, Marie sat at her desk, staring at the chaotic spread of papers in front of her. Frustration knotted in her chest as she sifted through lead after lead, all of them dead ends.

She’d been hunting for any trace of Maroni since the docks, but nothing panned out. Even her most reliable informants had come up empty, leaving her with the suffocating sense that the walls were closing in.

The more she tried to pull at the threads of the case, the more it seemed to unravel in her hands. And with Gordon still in the hospital, she didn’t have her usual ally to turn to for guidance.

She leaned back in her chair, her mind spinning. What now? How was she supposed to get ahead of Maroni’s operation when everything was a dead end?

The thought struck her before she could stop it—Batman.

He’d know what to do. He always did.

She glanced at the clock, biting her lip as the weight of her decision settled in. Part of her didn’t want to admit it, but she needed him now more than ever.

He was the only one who might offer a fresh perspective, some angle she hadn’t yet considered. The case was closing in fast, and without his insight, she feared she might miss something crucial.

Alfred had left her a voicemail a few days ago, letting her know Bruce was awake. Bruce had even tried to reach out, calling several times, though she’d ignored each call, still grappling with how to even begin a conversation after everything that had been revealed. His lies, the deceit—it all still stung.

Yet despite that, their connection remained. She hated how much she still relied on his judgment, and how he was the only person in the world right now that she wanted to see.

She stood abruptly, grabbing her jacket as she left the station, the night air biting against her skin as she made her way to the rooftop where the Bat-Signal waited.

Her breath fogged up in the cold night air as she flipped the switch and watched the familiar beam shoot into the dark sky. She crossed her arms, waiting, trying not to let her nerves get the better of her.

But after half an hour, the rooftop remained empty.

A sick feeling twisted in her stomach as she glanced at the sky again, the signal casting an eerie glow over the rooftops of Gotham. He should’ve been here by now.

Where was he?

Marie’s heart hammered in her chest, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as panic clawed at her. What if his condition had worsened? The image of Bruce slumped on the docks, bleeding out, barely able to stand, flashed through her mind in vivid detail.

She remembered the way his body collapsed to the ground at the docks, the blood pooling faster than she could stop it. Alfred had reassured her that he was healing, but doubt gnawed at her. What if something had gone wrong? What if he was worse off than anyone realized?

The thought sent a fresh wave of fear crashing through her. She couldn’t stay here, waiting. Without a second thought, she bolted for her car, fumbling with her keys as she slid behind the wheel.

Her hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel, the engine roaring to life beneath her. She floored the gas, tearing through the streets of Gotham, her pulse racing faster than the car. She had to see him—now.

Wayne Manor loomed ahead, but she barely registered the sprawling estate as she slammed the car into park and practically sprinted up the stone steps.

Her lungs burned and her heart still thudding in her ears. She only focused on the grand door in front of her. Her breath came in ragged bursts, her hand trembling as she raised her fist to knock—but before her knuckles made contact, the door swung open.

And there was Bruce.

She froze. She had expected Alfred to answer, his calm, reassuring demeanor ready to greet her.

Instead, Bruce stood there, leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a dark t-shirt that clung to his frame, with white bandages peeking out from underneath, wrapping tightly around his torso. He wore black sweatpants, a far cry from his usual composed appearance, but still standing—alive.

His face was pale, deep shadows carved under his eyes, and though he looked like he had been through hell, the steady rise and fall of his chest was proof that he’d made it through.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of everything unsaid hung heavy between them, suffocating in its intensity. Marie’s heart pounded in her chest, a mix of emotions swirling within her—relief, anger, confusion.

"Marie," Bruce finally said, his voice somehow soft yet rough, like the echo of a storm that hadn’t yet cleared.

She took a shaky breath, struggling to keep her composure. “I... I didn’t know what to do,” she admitted, her words rushing out before she could stop them. “I called for you. I used the Bat-Signal. I thought something happened when you didn’t show up. I—”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce interrupted, his voice carrying a heavy weight of guilt as he leaned more heavily against the doorframe. “I wasn’t... in any condition to respond.”

Her eyes flickered to the bandages wrapped around his torso, noticing how his posture stiffened with every shallow breath he took. He was clearly still in pain, the strain of standing there was written all over him, but he was alive. She wanted to feel relief. But instead, frustration and anger bubbled up inside her.

"I thought something had happened to you. I thought your condition got worse or... or you..."

Bruce’s gaze dropped for a moment, his jaw tightening as the guilt flickered across his face. “I didn’t want you to worry. Alfred said you’d checked on me.”

Marie swallowed hard, emotions colliding inside her as she stepped closer, her chest tight with conflicting feelings. “I needed to make sure you were okay,” she said, her voice softening as her fingers unconsciously reached up to graze his chest, fingertips lightly brushing the fabric of his t-shirt. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the bandages, feel his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath her touch.

Silence enveloped them before she whispered, “I thought you were going to die at the docks.” The memory of him slumped on the ground, blood soaking through his armor, flashed vividly in her mind.

Bruce didn’t move, letting her touch linger, his own hand slowly coming up to cover hers. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if even the act of lifting his hand took effort. “I know,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

Marie’s jaw clenched again, her pulse quickening. He was right here, right in front of her, but it wasn’t enough to dull the sharp edge of her frustration. The relief that he was alive was being overtaken by the anger she’d tried to suppress.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence.

Bruce’s lips twitched, a hollow chuckle escaping him despite the pain it caused. His breath was shallow, uneven. “For not saving you and Gordon. I failed you.”

Marie shook her head, her grip tightening on his shirt. “You didn’t fail me. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you. Gordon would be dead. I would’ve ended up just like my dad.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, and the air between them shifted. Bruce’s hand tightened over hers, his expression hardening, but his voice was soft when he spoke. “I’ll never let that happen to you.”

The conviction in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and for a moment, she faltered, her breath catching. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. She wanted to forgive him, to wrap her arms around him and tell him everything was okay. But she couldn’t.

“You were supposed to be honest with me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You should’ve been honest about everything. You decieved me, Bruce. I feel like a fucking idiot for not realizing you two were the same person.”

Bruce’s expression tightened, and he looked away, unsure of how to respond. The silence stretched on, the weight of her words pressing down on both of them.

When he finally looked back at her, his eyes were filled with regret, but there was something else there too—something that made her heart skip a beat.

“I didn’t want to put you in danger,” he said quietly, his voice raw. “But I understand why you’re angry. I should’ve told you.”

They stood there, staring at each other in the doorway, the tension between them thick enough to choke on. Marie exhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment.

“I shouldn’t have rushed over here like this,” she muttered, more to herself than him. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

Bruce took a slow step toward her, wincing with every movement. “You were worried,” he said softly. “It’s okay.” He moved his hand from hers, gently placing it on the side of her head in a soft caress. It took everything in her not to lean into his touch.

Marie’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Well, now that I see you’re okay, I should go.”

But neither of them moved. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the tension still simmering between them. Her hand lingered on his chest, and for a brief moment, she considered stepping closer, closing the distance between them. But she pulled her hand back.

Bruce’s tired smile barely touched his eyes, but he nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

She hesitated. Just as she turned to leave, Bruce’s voice, hoarse and quieter now, stopped her.

“Marie… I’m sorry. For not telling you sooner.”

Her body stiffened, the reality of the words crashing over her again. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear that he had lost her trust. He started to say more, to explain, but she stopped him.

“Bruce,” she said softly, lifting her hand and gently placing it on his cheek this time. His skin was warm beneath her touch.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she whispered, her thumb brushing lightly across his cheekbone. “You need to rest. We’re not doing this now.”

Bruce’s eyes flickered with both relief and frustration, but he nodded slowly. He didn’t push, didn’t fight. He just stood there, watching her, letting her hand linger for a moment longer.

—-------------------------------

It had been five days since Marie had seen Bruce, and she was now back at work, trying to keep herself busy. With no new leads on Maroni, she was stuck in the limbo of desk work, tapping her fingers against cold files and waiting for something, anything, to break.

The empty hours began to blur together until she found herself in front of Gotham General Hospital, ready to visit Gordon. She hadn’t visited him since that awful night at the docks, and the guilt twisted inside her. She needed to see him, to make sure he was okay.

As she walked down the sterile hallways, the smell of disinfectant and the low hum of machines filled the air. The hospital’s lighting was harsh, almost as though the world inside these walls was separate from the one outside.

Marie paused at the doorway to Gordon’s room, hesitating for a moment before gently knocking.

“Come in,” came a voice, hoarse but familiar.

She pushed open the door to see Gordon propped up in bed, looking worse for wear but alive. Bandages were wrapped around his chest, and though he looked tired, he managed a small smile when he saw her.

“Detective,” Gordon greeted, his voice gruff but warm. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Commissioner,” she replied, stepping into the room and standing at the foot of his bed. She gave him a quick once-over, relief flooding through her. He was going to make it.

Gordon’s eyes softened, and he chuckled weakly. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Figured you’d still be chasing down leads.”

Marie shook her head, sighing. “Not much to chase right now. Maroni’s gone quiet, and without any new information, I’m stuck at a desk.” She shifted uncomfortably. “I should’ve come sooner.”

Gordon waved her off. “I don’t want you worrying about me.” His voice dropped slightly. “I’ve been meaning to apologize, by the way. For tricking you into going to the docks.”

Marie’s stomach twisted at the memory. The image of Gordon's battered body at the docks flashed in her mind, just before Batman—Bruce—had jumped in.

“Maroni made you do it.” she said, though the words didn’t feel as strong as she wanted them to. “It’s not your fault. You did what you had to.”

Gordon nodded, his face marked by guilt. “Still, I should’ve found another way. You didn’t deserve that.”

Marie looked away, swallowing the familiar lump that rose in her throat. “What matters is that you’re still here, and we’ve got another shot at taking Maroni down.”

Gordon’s gaze softened. “You know, Batman came by earlier.”

Her heart skipped at the mention of his name. She fought to keep her expression neutral, though the mention of Batman’s visit brought all the emotions she’d been trying to suppress rushing to the surface.

“He visited you?” she asked, keeping her voice steady.

“Yeah,” Gordon said, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if gauging her reaction. “He came to apologize... for not saving me. For not getting there in time.”

Marie clenched her jaw, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. Of course he had. Batman—the man who carried the weight of Gotham on his shoulders, even when it was crushing him. Even when it almost killed him.

“It wasn’t his fault,” she muttered, more to herself than to Gordon. “We both know that.”

Gordon sighed, shifting slightly in his bed, wincing at the movement. “He didn’t see it that way.”

Marie let out a dry chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

For a moment, silence hung between them. Gordon studied her carefully before speaking again. “He asked about you, you know.”

Her heart lurched. She couldn’t stop the brief flicker of surprise that crossed her face. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Gordon nodded. “Wanted to know how you were holding up. He seemed... concerned.”

He had asked about her. The thought shouldn’t have meant as much as it did, but it did anyway. She hated that part of herself—the part that still craved his presence, even when her trust in him had been shaken.

Marie’s breath caught, and she quickly looked away, swallowing the sudden rush of emotion. She didn’t know why it hit her so hard, hearing that Bruce—no, Batman—had asked about her. Maybe because it had been days of radio silence. Maybe because she hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

Or maybe it was because part of her was still trying to figure out how to feel about everything—the lies, the betrayal, the fact that Bruce Wayne, the man she had begun to fall for, and Batman, the man she relied on as her partner in the shadows, were one and the same.

“I’m fine,” she said stiffly, too quickly. “There’s a lot to work through, but... I’m fine.”

Gordon raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You sure about that?”

Marie forced a tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ll be fine. I have to be.”

Gordon didn’t press, but the weight of his gaze stayed on her, as if he saw more than she was willing to admit. He let out a slow breath before speaking again. “He asked if you still wanted to work with him.”

Marie stiffened, her heartbeat quickening. She forced herself to meet Gordon’s eyes. “What did you say?”

“I told him that was between you two,” Gordon said with a knowing look. “But I could tell it was eating him up.”

She didn’t respond right away, her thoughts racing. She had no idea how to respond to that.

Days had passed since she’d left Bruce standing in the doorway at Wayne Manor, and every minute that ticked by had been a tug-of-war between anger and understanding.

She was furious at Bruce for keeping his identity from her, but there was another part of her—a part she hated to admit—that still cared deeply for him, and respected him for his work as the Bat.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m ready to.”

“No one’s asking you to make any decisions right now.”

Marie nodded, though her mind was far from clear. She had no idea how to fix the tangled mess she was caught in with Bruce. At some point, she would have to confront him.

Whether she was ready or not.

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thequeenofneverland1 · 6 months ago

Text

The Hope Of The Mikaelsons Family Part Six

Summary: The Mikaelson family is faced with a new threat as they uncover the truth behind Y/n's abduction by Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes. they’re determined to get answers regarding why she was taken in the first place. However, as they delve deeper into the mystery, they realize that Y/n's life may still be in danger, especially with the looming threat of the Hollow. Now, the family must navigate the dangers of their past and present to protect Y/n from harm and ensure that justice is served for the betrayal they have faced. With the stakes higher than ever, the Mikaelsons must unite, confront their enemies, and face the darkness that threatens to consume them all.

Warnings: Violence and confrontation, Mentioned of Kidnapping and separation from family, Betrayal and deceit, Emotional turmoil and angst and Mention of past trauma and sensitive topics

Caroline's eyes grew tearful as the realization dawned on her. With emotion trembling through her body, she hid her face in her hands. "I'm at a loss for words. It's all too much."

Klaus, despite his usual bravado, approached her with a gentle touch. "Caroline, we understand that this is difficult for you. But we need to think about what's best for Y/n. She deserves to know the truth about her family."

Her eyes red with tears, she gazed up at Klaus. "I am aware. However, how can we inform her? She's just six years old. I do not wish to frighten or perplex her."

He nodded, his expression softening. "We'll handle it delicately. We'll sit her down and explain it to her in a way that she can understand. And we'll be there to support her every step of the way."

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself."Okay. Okay, we can do this. For Y/n."

Klaus smiled, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "For Y/n. We'll get through this together." And with that, they began to make a plan to share the truth with you, knowing that they would always be there for you no matter what.

You were playing with your dolls in the living room when you heard shouting voices coming from the kitchen.

"Hayley, we can't keep this from her forever. She is entitled to know the reality." Klaus informs her.

"I understand, but she's still very young. How can we explain all of this to a six-year-old?" She returns the favor.

You frowned, not quite understanding what Klaus and Hayley were talking about. But one word caught your attention.

"She's a Mikaelson, Hayley. It's in her blood." He walks back and forth.

Casting a bewildered glance around, you entered Freya's room. “I heard Hayley and Klaus discussing someone being a Mikaelson, Freya. What person were they discussing?”

With a look of surprise on her face, she looked up from her spell book."Oh, Y/n, they were talking about..."

Klaus and Kol stormed into the room before she could say anything further. "Y/n, what are you doing here?"

Kol hurried to be at your side. "We've been looking all over for you!"

You backed away, confused on why they were getting nervous. "I was just asking Freya a question."

Klaus and Kol exchanged a glance, realizing that the secret was about to be revealed.”What were you asking about?"

You paused, not sure if you should go on.”I heard you and Hayley discussing someone being a Mikaelson. Who were you two conversing with?”

Klaus exhales deeply. "Love, you're too young to know, but we'll tell you when you're older."

Just as Klaus was ready to continue, Hayley entered the room. She noticed your expression and the uncomfortable environment. "Klaus, maybe it's time we tell her."

He frowned, shaking his head. "She's not ready. She's too young."

Hayley approached you and dropped to her knees in front of you. "Y/n, we need to talk to you about something important," she stated softly, emotion in her voice.

As a sensitive six-year-old, you raised your innocent eyes to Hayley and recognized the seriousness of the situation. You inquired quietly, a tinge of concern in your voice, "What's wrong?"

Feeling the weight of what she was about to disclose, she inhaled deeply. Her voice quivered with passion, "Y/n, Liz Forbes raised you with love and care, but Klaus and I... we are your real parents," she confessed.

Your little face was filled with confusion as you struggled to take in what was said. "What do you mean?" you murmured, your voice trembling with terror.

You leaped up with tears flowing down your face before Hayley could reply. "I want to go home!" you exclaimed, heartbroken in a tiny voice. "I want to be with my sister!"

Klaus and Hayley exchanged a startled look as they recognized how confused and in pain you were. “We are your family, Y/n.” He reached out to you and pleaded, "We love you."

But you hurried out of the room, tears clouding your eyes, calling out for your sister and yearning for the comforts of what previously felt like home, overcome with emotion and divided between the reality and the familiarity of the one home you had known.

She and Klaus could only watch helplessly as you disappeared around the corner, your small figure fleeing in distress, the weight of the truth about your parentage and the longing for the sister you remembered so vividly clashing within your young heart. The echoes of your sobs lingered in the air, a painful reminder of the fragile innocence shattered by the revelation that had shaken the foundation of your world.

After your abrupt departure, Klaus, Hayley, and the rest of the family gave you some time to cool down, hoping you would eventually return. They didn't realize that you had left the house, driven by the sole desire to find your way back to your sister, the one constant in your young life that brought you comfort and familiarity.

Meanwhile, Kol walked into your room with a tray of dinner, a warm smile on his face. However, his smile faded when he saw that you were nowhere to be found. Panic gripped his chest as he quickly scanned the room, only to find it empty. Without a moment's hesitation, Kol vampire-speeded to the living room where his siblings and Hayley were gathered.

"Y/n is gone," Kol announced urgently, his brows furrowed in concern. "She's nowhere to be found in her room."

Klaus got to his feet, his eyes widening in horror as his maternal instincts went into overdrive. "Look through the entire property! As the seriousness of the situation enveloped the family, he gave an order, "We need to find her before anything happens."

Without a word, the family members split up, each taking a section of the estate to search for you, Their shared unspoken tie as they worry and fear for your safety. The unspoken bond that connected them in their determination to keep you safe now fueled their efforts to bring you back home, where you belonged, enveloped in the love and protection of your true family.

Klaus braced himself as he dialed Caroline's number. He knew this would be a difficult conversation “Caroline, it's Klaus. There's something you need to know," he began, his voice heavy. "Y/n ran away."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. "What happened?" She demanded, her tone sharp.

Klaus hesitated before continuing. "Hayley told her the truth about her and me being her parents. She didn't react well... She said she wanted to go back to living with you."

Her voice trembled with anger and worry. "How could you guys? This is your fault! You scared her off. I hope you're happy now."

Klaus winced as her words stung him. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. “We never intended for this to happen. We just wanted her to know the truth."

She let out a bitter laugh. "You guys should’ve waited for her to be older for her to understand because. now my sister is out there somewhere, alone and scared. I have to find her."

Klaus could hear the anguish in Caroline's voice and he felt a pang of guilt. "She’s my daughter and I will find her," he said. "I'll do whatever to bring her home safely."

Your sister was silent for a moment before she spoke again, her voice slightly calmer. "Fine. But this isn't over, Klaus. We're going to have words when this is all over."

Thirty minutes passed with agonizing slowness. Caroline paced the room, her mind racing with worry. Suddenly, there was a faint knock on the door.

She rushed to answer it, and When she opened the door, she saw you standing there, tears streaming down your face.

Without a word, she pulled you into a tight embrace, relief flooding through your hair. "Y/n, thank goodness you're safe," she whispered, stroking your hair.

You clung to your sister, your sobs muffled against her shoulder. "I'm sorry," you mumbled. "I didn't know what to do."

She just held you tighter, grateful to have you back. “It’s ok honey.”

as your sobs subsided, you pulled back from the embrace, your yes red and puffy. You looked up at your sister, a mix of confusion and hurt in your aze.

“Caroline... is it true?" Your question was hardly audible above a whisper. "Are Klaus and Hayley really my parents?"

With a kind face, she nodded. "Yes, sweetie. It's true. But you have to know, that doesn't change anything between us. You're still my little sister, and I'll always be here for you."

You sniffled, your lower lip trembling. "But why didn't anyone tell me before?”

She sighed. "Y/n, it's complicated. It wasn't until a few days ago that I discovered this information, too.”

Your sister did her best to help you make sense of the bombshell revelation. Using simple language and plenty of patience, she explained the complicated history between Klaus and Hayley, and how they had been separated from you.

You listened intently, your small hands wrapped around a plate of warm cookies. Despite your young age, you were surprisingly resilient and seemed to absorb the information with a calm understanding.

You raised your head and gave her a bright, focused glance. You responded, a smile tugging at your lips, "I understand now. May we give my parents a call? I'd like to see them.”

She felt a wave of pride for you and nodded.”i’ll call them right now."

A short time later, Klaus and Hayley arrived, their faces alight with anticipation. You ran into their arms, hugging them tightly.

“Daddy," you whispered into your father’s shoulder. "I'm sorry I ran away. I didn't understand, but Caroline helped me."

Klaus let out some tears. Because he finally heard the word come out from your mouth. "It's okay, sweetheart," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm just so glad you're safe."

Hayley smiled through her tears, stroking your hair. "We understand, darling. It's a lot to process. But we're a family now, and we'll always be here for you."

Your sister watched from the doorway, tears streaming down her face. She felt a mix of joy and sadness as she watched you reunite with your parents. Even though she was happy for you, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the realization that your life was about to change.

Klaus noticed Caroline's tears and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. "Thank you for everything you've done for Y/n," he said, his voice filled with gratitude. "We couldn't have done this without you."

She sniffed and nodded, wiping away her tears. "I'm just happy she's safe and with her parents now," she said, smiling through her tears.

As your parents and you are about to leave, you turn to them, "Can I say one last goodbye to my sister before we go?"

Klaus and Hayley exchange a look, both sensing the importance of this final farewell. "Of course, sweetheart," Hayley replies, gently. "Go ahead and say your goodbyes."

You run over to her and give her another big hug. "I'm going to miss you so much," you say, your voice quivering.

She smiles, tears in her eyes. "I'm going to miss you too, Y/n. But I know you'll be happy with your family. And don't forget, we can always stay in touch, okay?"

You nod, wiping away your tears. "Okay."

As the door closes behind you and your parents, the weight of the moment suddenly hits Caroline. The tears that she had been holding back come streaming down her face as she drops to her knees, overcome with emotion. She had known this day might come, but nothing could have prepared her for the pain of saying goodbye to you that she had grown to love so deeply.

It’s been six days since you left to live with your real family and your sister has pretended to respond "fine" whenever someone asks her.

Damon leaned in, his voice laced with concern. "Caroline, how are you holding up? It must be hard having Y/n gone."

She took a deep breath, fighting back her emotions. "It's tough, but I know it's what's best for her. Klaus and Hayley are her parents, and she needs to be with them."

Elena placed a comforting hand on Caroline's shoulder. "But how are you feeling? It's okay to not be okay, you know."

She smiled gratefully at her friends. "I'm hanging in there. It helps knowing that Y/n is safe and happy with her family."

As Caroline and her friends reminisce about Y/n, Stefan notices a distant look in her eyes. He leans in, concern etched on his face. "Caroline, is everything okay? It seems like there's something on your mind."

Her gaze snaps back to the present, and she nods slowly. "Actually, there is. I can't help but wonder... How did Y/n end up in my family? What if my mother had something to do with it?"

Stefan's brow furrows. "What do you mean? Do you think your mother might have played a role in Y/n's kidnapping?"

She bites her lip. "I don't know. It just feels like there's something off about the whole situation. And my mother has always been secretive about certain things..."

She continues, her voice growing more animated as she recalls more details. "Remember at Y/n's birthday party, when the bodyguard told me that the Mikaelsons weren't invited? And then, when Klaus's daughter went missing, my mother suddenly showed up with a baby? She told me it was her secret daughter that she was protecting from the supernatural world."

Her friends exchange shocked looks. "Are you saying you think that baby might have been Y/n?" Bonnie asks, her eyes wide.

Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, she turns to her friends. "I have to find out the truth, one way or another. And if my mother was involved in Y/n's disappearance, she needs to face the consequences."

Her friends exchange looks of solidarity. "We're with you, Caroline," Elena says, her voice firm. "Whatever it takes, we'll help you uncover the truth."

Bonnie nods in agreement. "You can count on us. If your mother has been hiding something this big, she needs to be held accountable."

Caroline smiles gratefully at her friends, feeling bolstered by their support. "Thank you. Let's figure this out together."

You wake up in the middle of the night, with your forehead covered with sweat. You stumble out of bed and made your way down the living room

Hayley and Klaus both immediately rushed over to you, their faces filled with concern.”What's wrong my little wolf?”

You hesitantly begin, "I've been having these really weird dreams. In them, I hear two people screaming and crying about their daughter, but I never know who it is. I just feel this overwhelming sadness and fear, and I can't shake it off."

Your parents exchange a worried look, immediately recognizing the significance of your dreams. They both feel a sense of dread and urgency to figure out what the dreams mean and how they might be connected to your past.

they enter Freya's room, Klaus speaks up, "Freya, we've got a bit of a situation. Y/n has been having these dreams for the past few days, where she hears two people crying for their daughter. We're not sure what it means, but we think it might be connected to her past."

Freya listens intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. "This is certainly a unique case. I'll need to delve deeper into the dreams to unravel their meaning. Are there any specific details or emotions that Y/n has mentioned?"

Hayley chimes in, "She said she always feels a strong sense of sadness and fear. Could this be related to her abduction?"

She nods thoughtfully, "It's possible. Dreams can often be connected to a person's subconscious mind, and Y/n's past trauma could definitely be playing a role here. But dreams can also be symbolic and have multiple meanings. I'll need to use my magic and intuition to try to decipher them."

Klaus looks relieved, "We appreciate your help, Freya. We know that Y/n's dreams may be difficult to understand, but any insight you can provide could be valuable in helping her find some answers."

She turns to Klaus and Hayley, "In order to get a clearer picture of Y/n's dreams, I need all of you to join me in a shared dream state. I'll guide you through the process, but it's important that you all relax and focus your minds on Y/n's experience."

Klaus and Hayley nod in agreement, determined to support their daughter in any way they can.

She continues, "It's important to be open to the experience and to trust in your instincts. The dreamscape can be strange and unpredictable, but it's also a powerful tool for understanding the unconscious mind."

Klaus looks around, taking in their surroundings, "How do we even begin?"

She smiles reassuringly, "Simply close your eyes and focus on Y/n's presence. Imagine being drawn towards her energy, like a moth to a flame. Together, we'll enter the dreamscape and discover what lies within."

As she finishes explaining, you join them with curiosity piqued by their hushed conversation. "What's going on?" You ask, looking between your parents and your aunt Freya with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

She gives you a gentle smile, "We were just discussing how to enter your dreamscape, Y/n. I believe the answers you seek lie within your dreams, and your parents have agreed to join us on this journey."

Your eyes widen in surprise. "You mean we're going to enter my dreams together?"

Freya nods. "Yes, with your parents' presence, we may be able to uncover more details about these recurring dreams and the feelings associated with them."

Klaus wraps a protective arm around you,”Don't worry, love. We're all here for you. Together, we'll face whatever the dreamscape throws our way."

Your voice trembles as you respond, "I'm scared. The dream is always so sad and frightening. What if we see something we can't handle?"

Hayley kneels down to look you in the eye, "Sweetie, I know it's scary, but we're all here for you. We'll face whatever comes our way, together. We love you, and we want to help you understand these dreams."

You bite your lip, still uncertain, "But what if the dreams mean something bad happened to me? I don't want to find out that way."

Freya steps forward, "Y/n, I promise we'll be gentle and respectful throughout this process. But if these dreams hold the key to understanding your past, don't you think it's worth facing your fears to find the truth?"

You took a deep breath and nodded, "Okay. I'll do it. But I want both of you with me the whole time."you looked at your parents, your eyes brimming with fear and trust.

Klaus and Hayley exchange a determined look before Klaus responds, "We wouldn't have it any other way, Y/n. We're your parents, and we stick together. No matter what."

Freya guides your parents and you to a quiet spot and instructs you guys to lie down, "Close your eyes and focus on Y/n's presence. Picture her dreams surrounding you, pulling you into their realm."

The trio takes deep breaths, centering themselves and preparing for the journey into the dreamscape.

Your parents and you settle down in a comfortable spot, each of you guys feeling a mix of nervous anticipation and fear. Freya prepares the magical elements needed to guide you guys into the dreamscape. The room fills with an ethereal glow as Freya begins chanting softly, weaving her magic around the trio.

You close your eyes, feeling a familiar sense of weightlessness as the dream takes hold. You reach out, grasping your parents' hands as you guys are pulled into the memory of the day you were taken.

The dreamscape materializes around them, revealing the bustling streets of New Orleans. They find themselves walking alongside Hayley and Klaus, who are pushing a stroller with baby you inside. Unbeknownst to them, two people are lurking nearby, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Klaus gently ruffles your hair, "I'm just going to grab us some drinks, love. I'll be right back." He kisses your forehead, then heads towards the concession stand.

As Hayley pushes your stroller towards the playground, a stranger approaches them with a friendly smile. "Excuse me," the stranger says, "Could you give me directions to the nearest coffee shop?”

Hayley, still a bit distracted, doesn't notice as the second stranger quickly unbuckles you from the stroller and sweeps you up into their arms.

That stranger gave her a smile and thanked her before leaving and Hayley began to push your stroller and she sat down on a bench at the park. “sweetie are you sleeping? You've been so quiet!!”

Hayley removes the blanket from the stroller, only to discover that you are missing. Panic immediately sets in as Hayley frantically searches for her child, calling out your name in a desperate attempt to find you .”Y/n Where are you??”

“Someone please help me, someone kidnapped my daughter.” Hayley screams for help and begins to chase after the kidnappers, determined to rescue her baby.

Klaus, who had been on his way back with the drinks, hears Hayley's scream and immediately drops everything. He bursts into his vampire speed, desperately trying to catch up to the kidnappers. But even with his supernatural abilities, Klaus can't seem to close the distance fast enough.

The two strangers disappear into the surrounding trees, taking you with them. Klaus and Hayley are left standing in the park, stunned and heartbroken. They know that they need to find their daughter before it's too late.

Klaus and Hayley notice the item, and it triggers their memories of Sheriff Elizabeth Forbes from years ago. The realization of her involvement hits them like a ton of bricks, and they wake up from the dream with a start, gasping for breath.

"She was that one that stole our daughter. I can't believe she lied to our face telling us that she was going to help us find our daughter when she had Y/n this whole time," Klaus says angrily as he looks at Hayley.

With a nod, Hayley murmurs to Klaus, "We need to find that bitch so she could give us some explanation. That dumb ass is going to regret lying to us."

You made fun of your mom. "Mommy, you just used some inappropriate language."

Klaus and Hayley exchanged a look while trying not to laugh, forgetting that your vampire hearing allowed you to hear things from away and closer

She laughs but keeps it to herself. "I apologize; you got me! I suppose I'll have to watch what I say around you more carefully."

He smirks. "Indeed. With your sharp hearing, we'll have to watch our language."

You looked at your father with curiosity. "What's 'sharp hearing' mean, Daddy?"

He smiles at you. "It means that your vampire hearing is very sensitive, so you can hear things from far away or very quietly. It's a special ability that vampires have."

"So I'm like a superhero?" With excitement, you inquired.

"Sort of, Sweetheart.” She responds.

"Cool!" You jumped up and down

Klaus stood in the center of the living room, his siblings gathered around him. His face was etched with anger and frustration.

"We have a situation," he began, his voice low and intense. "Sheriff Elizabeth was the one who told us that she was going to help us find Y/n but she had her this whole time.”

Hayley stepped forward, her eyes blazing with determination. "We need a plan," she said. "We can't just storm into the Sheriff’s office and demand answers. We need to be smart about this."

Kol let out a short, bitter laugh. "Smart? That bitch stole our niece, and she didn’t think about our suffering and that our family nearly broke apart because of it. So Hayley. us being smart went out the window the moment she laid a hand on Y/n."

Elijah raised a hand, his calm demeanor belying the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Kol is right," he said. "Mrs. Forbes’s actions are unforgivable. But we need to approach this with a clear head.”

Rebekah paced back and forth, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. "I say we tear apart this city until we find her," she spat. "That dumb Sheriff will regret the day she ever crossed us and for causing us pain.”

Freya shook her head. "We need to be careful," she warned. "The Hollow is still out there, and it's likely that Liz is working with it. We can't just rush in blindly. We need a strategy."

They all locate the place where Sheriff Elizabeth and her accomplice are hiding. Hayley, eager to confront Elizabeth, insists on joining them, but Klaus intervenes. "Hayley, you should stay with our daughter Just in case something happens."

She shakes her head defiantly. "No, I need answers. I want to know why she stole our daughter from us."

Understanding her determination, Klaus sighs. "I can't deny you the chance to face her. But we can't risk losing Y/n again. Marcel, would you be willing to watch over her while we're gone?"

Marcel steps forward. "Of course, Klaus. I'll protect Y/n with my life."

Your mother gives you a hug and a reassuring smile. "We'll be back soon, sweetheart," she said. "Marcel will take good care of you."

One by one, the Mikaelsons hugged you tightly, promising to return as soon as possible.

Klaus kneels down in front of you, taking your small hands in his own. "I have to go now, my little wolf. But I'll be back soon, I promise."

"Where are you going, Daddy?" You asked

"I have some important business to take care of. But don't worry, I'll be thinking about you the whole time." He tells you

“I'll miss you, Daddy." You tell him back, hugging him.

He gives you a big hug, squeezing you tightly. “I'll miss you too, sweetheart. But remember, I love you with all of my life. And I'll be back before you know it."

"I love you too, Daddy."

Klaus turns to Marcel. "Thank you for doing this, Marcel. We owe you a great debt."

He nods, his face serious. "No need for thanks, Klaus. Protecting Y/n is all that matters. You have my word.I won't let anything happen to her."

Klaus claps Marcel on the shoulder in gratitude, then follows his family out the door. Together, they make their way to Elizabeth's hideout, ready to uncover the truth and ensure justice is served.

Marcel sat next to you on the couch, watching you closely. He noticed a sadness in your eyes

“Hey, Y/n," he said gently. "Would you like to make some cookies?"

You shrugged, your gaze fixed on the floor. "I want brownies," you said quietly.

Marcel smiled. "Brownies it is, then."

An hour later, Marcel tucked you into bed, kissing your forehead and wishing you sweet dreams. As he turned to leave, he caught sight of an urgent message on his phone.

"The Hollow," he muttered, his blood running cold. "It's after Y/n."

As Sheriff Rodriguez attempts to warn Elizabeth, Kol steps forward, his eyes flashing as he uses his compulsion on the Sheriff. "You're going to forget what you saw here and walk away. Now," Kol commands, his voice laced with power.

Instantly under Kol's influence, Sheriff Rodriguez's face goes blank, and he turns and walks away, leaving Elizabeth alone with the Mikaelsons. With the Sheriff no longer a threat, Rebekah blocks Elizabeth's escape route, forcing her to answer for her actions.

"Not so fast, Sheriff," Rebekah says, her tone dripping with menace. "You're going to sit down and answer our questions, or you'll regret it."

Elizabeth, recognizing the danger she's in, reluctantly obeys, sinking into a nearby chair. She glanced nervously at the Mikaelson siblings and Hayley surrounding her, knowing she has no choice but to face their wrath and answer for her actions. She swallows hard, her throat dry as she struggles to find the words. "I... I don't know what you mean," she stammers, trying to feign ignorance.

Elijah, however, is having none of it. "Don't insult our intelligence, Sheriff. We know you were involved in my niece's disappearance. The question is, why?"

Elizabeth remains silent, her eyes darting around the room as she searches for an escape that isn't there. Hayley, her face a mask of fury, leans in close, her voice barely above a whisper. "We're not leaving until you tell us everything. And trust me, you don't want to test our patience."

Sheriff Elizabeth's eyes widen in defiance as she spits out her response. "I don't know what you're talking about! Y/n is my daughter. She's always been my daughter!"

Klaus's face darkens. "Lies," he growls. "You know very well that Y/n is our daughter. You took her from us, and you will tell us why."

Elizabeth remains silent again, her resolve wavering as she realizes the gravity of her situation. Hayley steps forward, her voice cold and steady. "If you won't talk, we have other ways of extracting the truth. And I promise, they won't be pleasant."

Sheriff Elizabeth's bravado turns to cruelty as she sneers at the Mikaelson siblings. "So what if Y/n is your daughter? It was quite amusing to watch you all suffer, wondering where your precious child was. You had it coming, after all the pain you've caused others."

Her words hang in the air, the tension palpable. Klaus's eyes narrow, and Hayley's fists clench at her sides, both of them fighting to control their rage.

"How dare you," Rebekah says, her voice shaking with fury. "You took our child, our niece and our family, for a twisted sense of satisfaction? You're a monster."

Sheriff Elizabeth continues, a cruel smirk playing on her lips. "Honestly, you were all so stupid. How could you not see that Y/n was your daughter right under your noses? It was too easy to manipulate you and keep her hidden for so long."

The Mikaelson siblings exchange furious glances. Klaus steps forward, his voice dangerously low. "You're right about one thing, Sheriff. We were foolish to trust you. But rest assured, you will pay for what you've done. The pain you've inflicted on our family will not go unpunished."

Sheriff Elizabeth scoffs, seemingly undeterred by Klaus's threats. "I'm her mother. She's not going anywhere with you. And even if you try, I'll make sure she hates you for taking her away from me. She's my daughter, and you'll never change that."

Hayley steps forward, her face contorted in anger. "You're wrong, Elizabeth. Y/n knows the truth now, and she's with us. You can't hurt her anymore. And believe me, we'll make sure you never get the chance to do this to anyone else again."

Sheriff Elizabeth, sensing her impending defeat, decides to twist the knife one last time. "You know, the best part of all this was how easy it was to fool you," she says with a cruel smile. "The moment I took her, you were all so desperate, so lost. And that feeling of power, knowing I had what you all wanted, was simply delicious."

Klaus lunges forward, his fangs bared, but Elijah holds him back. "Don't, brother. She's not worth it. We'll make her suffer in ways she can't even imagine. And we'll make sure that justice is served."

Sheriff Elizabeth, still reveling in the pain she's inflicted, continues to taunt the Mikaelsons. "Besides, let's not forget that you didn't even want her in the first place. Remember how you reacted when you found out Hayley was pregnant? You were disgusted, repulsed by the very idea of having a child. So don't pretend that this is about anything other than your own selfish desires."

Hayley's reminder of Klaus's initial rejection. Klaus, his face a mask of guilt and anger, glares at Elizabeth. "That was a mistake, and one I deeply regret. But don't you dare use that as an excuse for what you've done."

Kol, having seen the shock and pain on Hayley and Klaus's faces, steps forward. "Look, I know what my brother did was wrong, but he changed when Y/n was born. She brought a new light into our lives, a hope we didn't even know we needed."

He turns to Elizabeth, his voice hardening. "You don't know the first thing about our family or the love we have for Y/n. She belongs with us, and we will protect her from people like you."

Kol continues, his gaze unflinching as he speaks. "When Y/n was stolen from us, our family nearly fell apart. The loss of our child, our hope, was too much to bear. But now, we have her back, and we won't let anyone tear us apart again."

Klaus and Hayley exchange a look, their resolve strengthened by Kol's words. They turn to Elizabeth, their determination evident. "You've made your choice, Sheriff. Now, you'll face the consequences."

Elizabeth, refusing to back down, rolls her eyes and responds with heavy sarcasm. "Wow, what a touching story. Too bad it won't change anything. Y/n is still my daughter, and I won't let her go without a fight."

As the tension in the room reaches its peak, Rebekah steps forward, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, Sheriff, I have an idea. Since you seem so fond of using people's pasts against them, I think it's only fair we return the favor."

She snaps her fingers, and suddenly, all of Elizabeth's darkest secrets begin to spill from her mouth, one after the other. The Mikaelsons watch with grim satisfaction as Elizabeth is forced to confront the truth of her own actions and the pain she has caused.

Suddenly, Klaus's phone began to ring. He silenced it, but it rang again moments later. With a frustrated sigh, he answered it. "Now is not the time, Marcel," he snapped.

But Marcel's voice was urgent. "Klaus, you guys need to come back quickly. I've found out more about the Hollow, and I'm afraid it might go after Y/n."

Klaus's expression darkened. "We'll be right there."

Hanging up the phone, he turned to Hayley and his siblings. "We need to go.”

#the originals x y/n #the originals #the originals x you #the originals imagines #the originals x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader #klaus mikaelson x you #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagines #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall x you #hayley marshall x y/n #hayley marshall x daughter!reader #hayley marshall x reader #hayley marshall imagines

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longer-than-i-should-admit · 3 months ago

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Is it weird that I want to see Solas cry?

Not bawling for Lavellan to take him back or suddenly regretting all his wrongs in the sort of childish 'I can't take it back and I can't accept that' sort of way or anything like that.

He knows he's done wrong. He's acknowledged that. He regrets it. But he moves on, in his eyes, to rectify those mistakes in the only way he knows how (i.e. tearing down the Veil). He carries that guilt with him. That's not what I'm talking about.

I mean I want to see him cry in a sort of bittersweet catharsis. He's reunited with Lavellan, however and whatever that entails. He does not expect her to still possess feelings for him after all he's done. He has no expectation for her to forgive him. He respects her space and does not try to push.

But I want him to tell her he is sorry, and for it to be a heart-deep wrenching sound of remorse. He's always been sincere with his apologies, but this one is a breaking point. He really, honestly, truly means it. He wants to take back what he's said about the people of this time. He wants to take back what he's said about the Dalish. He wants to take back what he's said about there being nothing of value.

Maybe Rook proved that to him. Maybe Varric made him realize it with his unflinching faith in their friendship, even after everything. Maybe Solas finally discovered that on his own.

He was wrong. So completely wrong. And he can't go back and fix it the way he wants, the way that would solve the damage he inflicted. And now, inadvertently, he has wrought even more death with yet another mistake heeped onto the extensive pile he's made over time.

He loves Lavellan. She gave him priceless wisdom. She challenged his worldview, showed him different perspectives, encouraged his personal growth. She treated him as a man in need of guidance, not a god plagued with destruction. She was his friend, first, despite their differences. She was willing to question him, to learn what he thought even if she disagreed. Offered to protect him during a tense time and dangerous place when she herself was in arguably much more danger. Acknowledged his help, his efforts, his precarious position. Presumably she assisted his endeavors, even when he could not give her the full truth. She believed in him. She grieved with him. She traveled countless miles and battled countless foes with him, trusted him implicitly with her heart and her hand and her life in spite of his hesitation, his reservations, his warnings. She wanted him for who he truly was, the sincere aspects of himself he was allowed to display in absence of revealing his true identity. She loved the quiet, studious artist who was a little too pedantic for his own good.

He tells her so. He has no right to ask anything more of her, but he wants her to know that she is the most precious thing that has ever happened to him. If he could utter no other truth for the rest of his life, it would be that she was the one good thing he had unwittingly influenced in his ancient lifetime of suffering and pain.

I don't know man. I just want him to confess the depth of his feelings, all teary-eyed and shaky-voiced, cowed by her mere presence. No more the god of lies, treachery, and rebellion; just the man who would do anything for the love of his life, even if it meant leaving her so she wouldn't be witness to the atrocities he felt necessary to do. He doesn't dare touch her. Flinches when she draws closer. Closes his eyes, expected a harsh blow or words or both. He deserves the punishment, in his mind. It might make his heartache easier to bear.

But I want to see his expression change if she reaches up and cradles his face, as gentle as if he had never been her betrayer. I want to see his jaw fall slack, his lips parting, his eyes spilling over and her thumb sweeping over the high arch of his cheek to smear it away. I want to see his resolve, his will, his indomitable focus fracture and crumble. I want to see his body loosen and curl closer, a puppet whose strings are cut. No more resistance. No more denial. If she would touch him like this, if she would still want to touch him like this, then who is he to refuse her wishes?

"Sweet talker," she murmurs.

"That was not my intention," he croaks.

"I know." She does. Know him, that is. Better than most. A fact he cannot refute.

If Lavellan still wants him, Solas no longer has the strength to resist. It's been an impossibly long nine years feeling her absence from his side as acutely as a missing rib, longer than the thousands of years he slept. He missed her, to the fullest extent that fathomless word suggested. He is nothing if he is not hers.

Let me see him get emotional, Bioware. Let me see beyond that facade. Rook may get peeks of it, but I want to see how fast he folds when his vhen'an shows up. The wolf loyal to his once ignorant herald. God. Fuck this man for making me feel this way, respectfully.

#fisara's scrawlings #dragon age #dav #the dread wolf | solas #the inquisitor #meta

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sleeplessdreamer123 · 2 years ago

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Fanfic Idea! (ABO Lucemond, Part 2 of omegan Dragonkeeper Lucerys)

First part:

It hatched. The egg hatched. His dragon was beautiful. He was pearlescent white with a yellow flame, with golden eyes and a golden chest. He knew, from the moment he heard the egg shells cracking, the moment he saw his tiny head popping out, that he would love him and treasured him with all his heart and being. Finally, a dragon of his own. A living proof of what he is. A Targaryen with his dragon.

His mother was less than enthused. He didn't understand it at first, but it gradually dawned on him that she didn't see them as anything more than large, dangerous beasts. Her views on them are so unlike his own. He, who sees them as the majestic, powerful, beautiful creatures that they are. She didn't like it when Aegon visited Sunfyre, and showed relief when both his and Helaena's dragon didn't hatch. He knew she secretly wished they'd never bond with a dragon, that they'd stay on the ground rather than on a fire-breathing beast up in the sky, and there was a time in his life where Aemond secretly thinks his mother's inner wishes were granted by the Faith, blessing her while cursing them, cursing him to such a fate. It was a hard truth to swallow, the fact that his mother, the one person he felt truly loved him, would never understand his near desperation to have a dragon. With a dragon, he was no longer, in a sense, incomplete. He couldn't tell her that though.

Aegon congratulated him in his drunken haze, and Aemond smirked as Aegon yelped, the dragon nearly biting off his fingers when he tried to touch him. Helaena just smiled, saying things about a black thread, and Aemond just nodded along to appease her. Even his Sire seemed glad for him, congratulating him, calling his dragon beautiful. It was unexpected, seeing as he only ever talked about his eldest half-sister (the one that never visits, despite his father's numerous attempts to call her back), and that was when he had his fill with his medicine, the milk of the poppy. Still, a small part of him was happy his sire showed any interest in him at all (an even smaller part wondered if he would have shown any interest in him if he never had a dragon. He pushes that part deep, deep down).

It took a few days of him parading around before he remembered his promise to a certain little dragonkeeper. He decided that it was time to present the dragon to Luke. After all, he chose him for Aemond, it's only fair he gets to see him hatched.

When he reached the Dragonpit, he started walking through the tunnels, until he finally saw a familiar small, curly haired boy. Luke was with another young dragon keeper, and it took a moment for Aemond to recognize him as the one who brought the pig. Aemond felt a wave of anger, hurt and betrayal, before shaking it off. Of course he was with another dragon keeper. They looked so much alike, they could be brothers, for all he knew. Why would he feel betrayed?

Aemond called out for him, and Luke turned to see him, bade a hasty goodbye to the other dragonkeeper, and ran straight to Aemond like an obedient puppy to his master. When he saw him with the dragon on his shoulder, his eyes said everything. He was in awe. Aemond felt pride. Yes, his dragon should inspire awe. He was going to be the most powerful dragon, the most beautiful, even more than Aegon's Sunfyre.

"He's so pretty, My Prince. His scales are like the moon's." Luke said, still looking at the dragon. Said baby dragon seemed to preen with the praise. Said owner also preened with the praise.

"Do you have a name for him yet, My Prince?"

Of course Aemond had a name chosen, ever since he learned about dragons, ever since his first egg didn't hatch. Looking at the hatchling, Aemond knows knows it fits him.

"Arrax, the Ruler of the Old Gods."

"Hello Arrax." Luke greeted his dragon in High Valyrian, and Arrax made crooning noises as a response.

Aemond decided that Luke would be a good dragonkeeper for Arrax, at least, once he's old enough.

--------

Aemond visited him almost every day. Luke was a bit shy at first, though eager to please. Once they've gotten close enough, and Luke felt comfortable with him, he began sharing a lot of stories about the dragons, though most of what he shared were from the older dragon keepers.

Aemond liked that. He liked learning about dragons from the very people who trained them. Luke does tend to babble a lot, taking detours in his stories, but all he needed to do was clear his throat for Luke to stop with his side stories, blush perfusedly, and continue on with the main ones.

He also has the habit of blushing brightly when he realizes he said too much, glancing at Aemond to see if he was angry, then continue on when he sees no trace of annoyance.

Aemond liking of little Luke slowly grew. He likes how knowledgeable he was about dragons, likes learning some secrets that dragon keepers learned through generations, and he was beginning to like whenever Luke speaks in High Valyrian when he doesn't know the word in common tongue.

It helps him learn more about the language. It was rather embarrassing for him to admit it, even to himself. A Targaryen prince not knowing how to speak High Valyrian. His mother didn't really see the point of him learning a language few people use in Westeros, the fact he didn't have a dragon until recently only strengthened her resolve to give him a different subject to focus on. So, while his older brother got to learn High Valyrian (not that Aegon cared to actually learn the language), he was stuck learning about the Faith of the Seven. He eventually taught himself the language through the use of old books, so he could understand it to an extent, but without someone actively teaching him, guiding him, correcting his pronunciation, he fears he doesn't know as much as he should. He refrains from actually using said language, afraid he would butcher it somehow. Luke's jumble of both common and High Valyrian has proven to be quite helpful, as he notes the particular way every word was said, commiting it to memory so he may practice once he was alone.

Aemond also learned about bits and pieces of Luke's life. He was apparently the second youngest bastard being watched over by the dragon keepers, the other two being his brothers, the youngest being a toddler, and the eldest being the one who brought out the pig. Aemond greatly disliked that one. Luke, however, loved him very much. And liked talking about him. A lot.

"Jace watches over Prince Aegon's Sunfyre, My Prince. He's also the one who gives me lessons on how to properly train a dragon when the other dragonkeepers are busy. Oh! He also sometimes play with Prince Aegon in the pit - Elder Byron wouldn't allow us out of the pit until dusk - though they won't let me join sometimes. But that's ok, because he makes it up to me by teaching me more secret tricks, and-"

Aemond sighs, before clearing his throat. While it was good to know that his brother wasn't always sneaking out to the Streets of Silk, or at Fleabottom, he didn't really want to learn about their brothers' little "adventures".

"Oh! I'm sorry, My Prince. It's just that I never had anyone to tell these things to. Um, where was I again? Oh, right! So Syrax continues to refuse to eat, and Elder Byron was worried she was sick. She wasn't though! She just didn't like the meat. The others said she was the most spoiled dragon they ever had to watch over, and-"

--------

Luke was used to having Prince Aemond as company. He usually arrived after the dragons were fed, with Arrax on his shoulder, demanding stories that Luke was eager to regale, while he simply listen, an eager audience. He never had people close to his age (besides Joffrey, but he's too small, he can't even talk yet) and he greatly enjoyed his time with the Prince.

So when he didn't arrive at his usual time, he began to worry. When Arrax was sent to him to care for, he really got scared.

Did he somehow manage to offend the only other person he could talk to besides his brothers? No, that couldn't be it. If it was, then Arrax would have been given to one of the older dragonkeepers to care for. Then did Prince Aemond somehow got hurt?

He knows of tales of assassinations, the royal life isn't always easy, especially for the women and children. They were the easiest targets, after all.

But that wouldn't be the case, because he saw Prince Aegon running around with Jace a few hours ago. He knew the queen, well, knew of the queen, through talks and rumors, and she wouldn't have allowed Aegon out of her sight if anything like that would have happened.(A small part of him wonders if Prince Aemond was bored of him already. That part grew larger with every thought that enters his head).

Did I bore him? Were my stories too confusing? Did I say too much? Did I annoy him in some way?

Thankfully, he remembered that there was someone who might know what was going on with him. He went to Jace, who looked at him with a look of amusement.

"Nothing happened to him, Luke. The prince just presented. He entered his first rut yesterday."

Oh.

Luke felt the weight on his chest lessen greatly. So that was it. He was just having a special kind of sickness, like Jace recently had. Everything was fine.

Ok.

Good.

He guesses he would need to start watching over Arrax now while Prince Aemond was gone. What sort of tricks should he teach him? He ponders over that while Arrax stay perched on his shoulder, contently crooning over him.

-------------------

So, this is fun, and I'd like to make more parts soon.

If anyone wants to write a full length fic with this concept, please tell me!

Thoughts? Violent reactions?

Update: I'll be using the hashtag (#omegan dragonkeeper lucerys) so it would be easier to read all the different parts.

#Kid Aemond and Kid Lucerys makes me happy #lucerys x aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x lucerys #lucemond #lucerys velaryon #aemond one eye #alpha aemond #omega lucerys #bastard lucerys #dragonkeeper lucerys #omegan dragonkeeper lucerys

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geotjwrs · 7 months ago

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fuck that get money

Pairings ; Gracie Abrams x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; angsty

The soft glow of the city lights painted patterns of shadows and light across the walls of Y/N's apartment, casting a sense of melancholy over the room as he sat alone, lost in thought.

He glanced at his phone, the screen illuminating his face with its harsh glare, a constant reminder of the distance that had grown between him and Gracie over the past few months.

They had once been inseparable, their love a blazing inferno that burned bright against the backdrop of their chaotic lives. But somewhere along the way, amidst the whirlwind of tours and late-night studio sessions, they had lost sight of each other, their once unbreakable bond slowly separating out at the seams.

Y/N couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and insecurity nagging at his heart as he scrolled through Gracie's social media feed, each photo and caption a silent testament to the time she spent with Hayes Bradley.

He tried to push aside the nagging doubts that crept into his mind, to drown out the voice that whispered tales of betrayal and heartache, but the harder he tried, the louder it became.

"I don't want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else," the lyrics echoed in his mind, each word a painful reminder of the love he feared was slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

He took a deep breath, his chest tight with the weight of his emotions, as he look at the future that lay before him. He knew that he had to confront Gracie, to lay bare the thoughts and feelings that had been festering in the depths of his soul before it was too late.

With trembling fingers, he dialed her number, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for her to answer. And when her voice finally filled the air, soft and familiar like a melody from a forgotten dream, he knew that he had to find the courage to speak his truth, no matter the consequences.

"Gracie," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "we need to talk."

As the conversation between Y/N and Gracie unfolds, emotions surge like a thunderous wave crashing against the shore, threatening to wash them both in its wake.

Gracie listens in silence as Y/N pours out his heart, his words a raw and unfiltered expression of the pain and uncertainty that has consumed him in recent months. She can hear the shake in his voice, the vulnerability in his words, and her heart aches with the weight of his confession.

For a moment, there is only the sound of their breathing, the air heavy with the unspoken truths that hang between them like a shroud. And then, with a sigh, Gracie speaks, her voice soft but firm with resolve.

"Y/N," she begins, her words measured and deliberate, "I understand how you feel, I really do. But you have to trust me when I say that there's nothing between me and Hayes you're worried about. We're just friends, nothing more."

Y/N's brow furrows in confusion, his mind swirling with a maelstrom of conflicting emotions. He wants to believe Gracie, to trust in the love they once shared, but the doubts still linger, stubborn and persistent like a thorn in his side.

As Gracie's words sink in, Y/N's heart sinks with them, weighed down by the heavy burden of doubt and insecurity. Despite her assurances, he can't shake the feeling that something between them has changed irreversibly.

They stand there in the dimly lit room, the silence stretching between them like a big gap too wide to bridge. Y/N searches Gracie's eyes for any sign of the love they once shared, but all he finds is a hollow emptiness that mirrors his own.

"I want to believe you, Gracie," he whispers, his voice barely heard over the distant hum of the city below, "but I don't know if I can."

Gracie's face softens with understanding, her eyes filling with tears. She reaches out, her hand trembling as she moves a lock of hair from Y/N's forehead.

"I know this isn't easy," she says, speaking softly, "but I need you to trust me. Trust in us."

Y/N's chest tightens at her words, his mind swirling with mixed-up feelings. He wants to believe her, to trust in the love they once shared, but the hurts from betrayal still bother him, a painful reminder of how weak their bond is.

"I wish I could," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, "but I don't know if I have it in me anymore."

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, making it hard to breathe. Gracie's eyes fill with tears, her heart breaking with each passing moment.

"I'm sorry, Gracie," Y/N whispers, his voice barely heard over the pounding of his heart, "but I can't do this anymore."

And with those words, the fragile thread that binds them together starts to fall apart, to collapse until it breaks, leaving them lost in a sea of doubt and regret.

Gracie watches helplessly as Y/N turns and walks away, his shape disappearing into the darkness of the night. She wants to call out to him, to beg him to stay, but she knows deep down that it's too late.

And as the echoes of their broken love fade away, Gracie is left alone with the painful memory of what could have been, forever haunted by the ghost of a love that was never meant to be.

#gracie abrams #gracie abrams one shot #gracie abrams x male reader #gracie abrams imagine #gracie abrams fanfiction #gracie abrams x reader #dailywomen #fanfic #one shot #imagine #Spotify

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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago

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Betrayal Unveiled

➥ summary: All good things must come to an end at some point. (Y/n) discovers that her boyfriend Shoto has been cheating on her, for how long? She has no ide.

➥ angst

➥ one shot

It was an ordinary day—or so it seemed—in (Y/n)'s world. The sun cast its warm glow upon the streets, oblivious to the storm gathering within her heart. (Y/n) cherished her relationship with Shoto, a love she believed to be unbreakable. But fate had a cruel twist in store.

As the day wore on, whispers of doubt began to permeate (Y/n)'s consciousness. Flickers of suspicion tainted the corners of her mind, igniting a gnawing unease that refused to be silenced. Deep down, she sensed that something was amiss, a dissonance in the harmony of their bond.

With trepidation coursing through her veins, (Y/n) embarked on a quest for truth, determined to uncover the secrets that threatened to shatter her world. Little did she know that her journey would lead her to the devastating revelation she never thought she would face.

One fateful evening, shadows danced upon the walls as (Y/n) found herself standing outside Shoto's apartment. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of anticipation and dread enveloping her. As she opened the door, the sights and sounds that greeted her shattered the fragile illusion of her love.

There, in the dimly lit room, she saw it—Shoto entangled in an embrace with another woman. The air grew thick with betrayal, and time seemed to stand still as (Y/n)'s world crumbled around her. The pain etched upon her face mirrored the shattering of her trust, her heart torn asunder.

A wave of emotions washed over (Y/n)—shock, anger, and profound sorrow. Tears welled in her eyes as she witnessed the ultimate betrayal unfold before her very eyes. In that moment, the purity of their love was tarnished, irreparably marred by infidelity.

Unable to find her voice, (Y/n) stood frozen in the doorway, her heart bleeding from the wounds inflicted upon it. Every word, every touch, every cherished memory seemed tainted, replaced by the bitter taste of deception. The person she once knew as her rock had become the source of her anguish.

The days that followed the heart-wrenching revelation were cloaked in a suffocating silence. (Y/n)'s once vibrant spirit had dimmed, her heart now guarded by the jagged shards of broken trust. The weight of her pain pressed upon her chest, threatening to consume her very being.

Despite the facade of normalcy she attempted to uphold, (Y/n) could no longer pretend that everything was as it once was. The love that had once bound her and Shoto together now stood tarnished, its delicate threads unraveling with each passing moment. The memories they had shared became a double-edged sword, cutting deep into her wounded heart.

A profound sadness settled within (Y/n), a darkness that seeped into the crevices of her soul. She yearned for the solace of Shoto's embrace, the comfort of his words, but the knowledge of his betrayal lingered like a ghost between them. Her love for him was a battlefield, torn between the desire to cling to what was familiar and the need to protect herself from further pain.

Days turned into weeks, and (Y/n) withdrew into the recesses of her own sorrow. She found solace in solitude, seeking refuge in the quiet corners of her heart where her emotions lay exposed and raw. Her laughter grew hollow, her smile a mere façade to mask the turmoil within.

Shoto, oblivious to the anguish that consumed (Y/n), remained perplexed by her sudden detachment. He yearned for the closeness they once shared, desperate to rekindle the flame that flickered in her eyes. But try as he might, he could not decipher the cause of her withdrawal.

Within the depths of (Y/n)'s soul, conflicting emotions waged war. She longed for Shoto to notice her pain, to see the cracks in her fragile facade. Yet, fear held her captive, fear of facing the truth, fear of confronting the pain that threatened to consume her. The fragile remnants of their love teetered on the edge of oblivion.

Shoto, burdened by the weight of (Y/n)'s withdrawal, could no longer bear the silence that suffocated their once vibrant connection. The torment of her distant demeanor gnawed at his heart, driving him to confront the enigma that had come between them. He sought answers, a desperate attempt to salvage what remained of their love.

One somber evening, in the fading light of the setting sun, Shoto found (Y/n) in the solitude of her sanctuary. His voice was laced with a mixture of concern and confusion as he broke the silence that had consumed them both.

"(Y/n), my love," Shoto began, his voice trembling with a delicate balance of hope and apprehension, "I can no longer ignore the distance that has settled between us. I yearn to understand the cause of your withdrawal. Please, share with me your pain so that we may face it together."

(Y/n)'s eyes bore into his, a torrent of conflicting emotions swirling within her gaze. The storm that raged within her threatened to spill forth, consuming all in its path. The silence that stretched between them amplified the weight of her anguish, until she could no longer suppress the tempest that raged within her.

With a mix of fury and anguish in her voice, (Y/n) unleashed her pent-up pain upon Shoto, her words like shards of shattered glass piercing the veil of their fractured love.

"If you're going to cheat on me," she spat, her voice quivering with a potent blend of hurt and anger, "at least have the decency to hide it better. Your betrayal is not only a stain upon our love but an insult to my intelligence."

Shoto's eyes widened in shock, his breath catching in his throat. The truth hung heavy in the air, a brutal revelation that shattered his own illusions and laid bare the depths of his deceit. The foundations of their relationship crumbled beneath his feet, leaving him exposed and defenseless against the accusations that burned like a searing fire.

"(Y/n)," Shoto stammered, his voice a mere whisper, "I never meant to hurt you. I don't know how you found out, but please, let me explain. I'm sorry."

The room seemed to close in around them, the air thick with unresolved tension and unspoken words. Emotions surged through both their veins, a mixture of heartbreak, anger, and a desperate longing for the love that had once bound them together.

“Don’t even bother,” she splats out before storming away.

A few weeks go by and the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of gold and purple, the stage was set for the musical extravaganza that would captivate the hearts of all in attendance. Today UA High School's was hosting a festival in which would showcased the diverse talents of its students, a testament to the school's commitment to nurturing their gifts.

Amidst the bustling excitement, the members of 1-H took their places on the stage, their hearts pounding with a mixture of nerves and exhilaration. The spotlight illuminated (Y/n), the center of attention, her voice a beacon of vulnerability and raw emotion.

The first notes of the piano resonated through the air, capturing the attention of the audience. The soft strumming of the guitar accompanied (Y/n)'s delicate voice as she breathed life into the lyrics of "10 Things I Hate About You."

♪ The way you walk into the room, yeah, it kills me ♪

♪ And the way you spin those lies, it's so unappealing ♪

♪ The way you smile when you're not around, it's so deceiving ♪

♪ And I hate how I keep letting you back in ♪

Her voice carried the weight of unspoken emotions, the lyrics intertwining with the essence of her own experiences. The words resonated with the hearts of those who listened, evoking a range of emotions from nostalgia to introspection.

As (Y/n) poured her heart out on the stage, the lyrics became a vessel for her own confessions, a bittersweet tale of love and loss. The audience hung on to her every word, their hearts entwined with hers in the musical journey.

♪ I hate the way you make me feel so small ♪

♪ How you're always there but never really there at all ♪

♪ I hate the way you make me chase you 'round ♪

♪ When you're the one who's always letting me down ♪

The lyrics echoed through the auditorium, each word laden with the weight of (Y/n)'s personal experiences. The raw vulnerability in her voice resonated with the crowd, as her performance became a mirror through which they reflected upon their own moments of heartache and resilience.

In the midst of her performance, (Y/n) found herself immersed in a sea of emotions. Her voice soared and dipped, carrying the burdens and joys of her own journey. With each verse, she unraveled the intricacies of her heart, her voice an instrument of truth and self-expression.

♪ But I can't help myself, I'm drawn to you ♪

♪ Despite the pain, the love that I can't undo ♪

♪ And even though I know I should let go ♪

♪ I keep coming back, it's something I can't control ♪

The final notes hung in the air, their resonance lingering long after the song had ceased. The audience erupted into applause, their hearts moved by the poignant performance. (Y/n)'s classmates surrounded her, their pride evident as they congratulated her on a breathtaking display of talent.

In the aftermath of (Y/n)'s mesmerizing performance at the UA Festival, a cloud of unease descends upon Shoto Todoroki.

As the echoes of (Y/n)'s haunting melody fade, the auditorium transforms into a buzzing sea of congratulatory murmurs and joyful applause. Shoto, his heart heavy with unspoken emotions, musters the courage to seek out (Y/n) and offer his support. He yearns to congratulate her on a stunning performance and bridge the widening chasm between them.

With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, Shoto makes his way through the crowd, searching for (Y/n) among the sea of faces. His eyes eventually land on her, but the sight that greets him sends a sharp pang through his chest. There, by (Y/n)'s side, stands Katsuki Bakugo, their smiles and laughter intertwining like the melodies of a symphony.

Time seems to slow as Shoto's gaze remains locked on the scene before him. His heart aches with a mixture of jealousy, confusion, and a sense of betrayal. Thoughts swirl in his mind, each one a dagger piercing his fragile hope.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, Shoto's resolve crumbles, and he retreats from the scene, a storm of emotions brewing within him. He questions the nature of his connection with (Y/n), the strength of their bond, and whether it was ever truly reciprocated.

#shoto x you #bnha shoto #shoto x y/n #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto todoroki imagine #shoto todoroki imagines #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha x fem!reader #bnha oneshots #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #x reader #my hero x reader #my hero acedamia #one shot #light angst

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thereceptioniststyles · 10 months ago

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No Control

Present Day

Tears welled in my eyes as I gazed at my therapist, Jo. The weight of my past bore down on me, each memory reopening wounds that seemed deeper than ever. But I couldn't carry this burden any longer; I owed it to myself, to Harry, to let it out.

Jo, my stalwart confidante, had been there through it all. From the shattered remnants of my parents' divorce when I was just 18 to the tumultuous storms of failed relationships and workplace conflicts, she had been my guiding light.

I remembered the first time I met Jo, seven years ago. Now, at 25, she still stood by my side, offering solace and understanding when I felt lost in the darkness of my own mind.

But as I sat there, the weight of my secrets pressing down on me, I found myself unable to speak. My throat tightened, and I was paralyzed, staring blankly at the wall, wishing fervently for time to whisk me away from this moment, to let me forget once more.

"Ayla," Jo's voice pierced through the silence like a lifeline. "It's okay if you're struggling. It's okay if the words won't come. But I can only help you as much as you allow me to."

The word "help" echoed in my mind, leaving me feeling small and vulnerable.

"I... I don't remember," I stammered, my voice trembling with the weight of my own deceit. But Jo's gaze was unwavering, her eyes seeing through my facade, silently urging me to confront the truth I had been avoiding.

"Ayla, what happened next?" Jo's voice pierced through the heavy silence, her gaze steady, urging me to continue.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally anchored myself, summoning the courage to delve into the painful memories that threatened to consume me.

I began to recount the heartbreak, the tears, and the relentless ache that had followed in the wake of Harry's betrayal.

"Harry ruined my life," I declared, the bitterness seeping into my words like poison. I could sense the urge to chuckle in Jo's eyes, but she restrained herself, knowing the gravity of my words. "I thought we had a chance. I believed he would be willing to invest the same effort as I was. After our kiss, I thought he would embrace me with the same fervor I held for him. It felt foolish, Jo, to leave Beck for someone who showed such blatant disregard for my feelings."

My mind wandered back to Harry, his carefree demeanor and his knack for brushing off serious situations with a joke. The thought of how effortlessly he would dismiss the impact of his actions on me gnawed at my soul.

As I sat there, pouring out my heart to Jo, I couldn't help but feel the weight of Harry's absence still haunting me years later, a ghostly presence that lingered in the corners of my mind, mocking the pain he had inflicted.

Past

Restless, I spun in my chair at the front desk, my heart pounding with anticipation for Harry's arrival. We'd been closing shifts together more frequently, and with each passing day, our connection deepened. Despite not knowing him on a profound level, I loved him fiercely. His presence alone was intoxicating—the scent of his cologne lingering in the air, the intensity in his eyes, the way his hands effortlessly ran through his hair. Every detail, every gesture, fueled my adoration. Harry was a complex blend of humor, seriousness, and undeniable charm.

But my affection for him was tested by his effortless flirtations with other women. He had a way of charming them effortlessly, leaving me simmering with jealousy. It seemed harmless until Grace entered the picture. Grace, with her effortless beauty and soft demeanor, had Harry's full attention whenever she entered the room. It was agonizing to watch as she twirled her hair and batted her eyelashes, capturing Harry's affections right before my eyes.

The night everything changed, they arrived together. My mind initially brushed it off as a coincidence until they exchanged a tender kiss at the doorway, sending shockwaves of betrayal through me. My Harry, the man I loved, kissing another woman. Anger bubbled inside me as I watched them, feeling the sting of his recent flirtatious texts still fresh in my mind.

"So," I managed to choke out as he entered, my voice thick with emotion.

"We're not dating, if that's what you think. Just hooking up” he said casually, as if his flippant explanation could erase the hurt.

"Oh," was all I could muster, feeling the weight of his words crushing me. I struggled to find my footing, knowing that one wrong move could shatter whatever fragile connection we had.

"Cool beans," I whispered, my voice barely audible, masking the turmoil raging within me.

"Come on, Ayla, don't play the innocent act," Harry's words cut through the air like a knife, his tone dripping with condescension. "It's just harmless flirting. Haven't you ever flirted with someone you didn't like?"

I shrugged, trying to mask the pain and betrayal coursing through me. Sure, I had flirted before, but it had never felt as public or as intimate as watching Harry cozy up to Grace just days after our own passionate encounter.

I spent the rest of the night in silence, unable to bear the thought of delving deeper into Harry's relationship with Grace. The mere idea of her, knowing she was everything I wasn't, fueled a rage unlike any I had felt before. I had left my boyfriend for Harry, sacrificing a stable relationship for a man who clearly didn't value my loyalty.

As Harry left early, leaving me to close up alone, I sat in solitude, drowning in memories of his touch and the taste of his lips against mine. But amidst the reverie, a bitter realization began to take root: it wasn't me who had ruined what we had, it was Harry. And I would soon learn that he was a master at leaving destruction in his wake, breaking hearts without a second thought.

Yet, despite the hurt and anger, I found myself unable to resist the pull of his charm. As long as he kept coming back to me, I told myself, I could overlook his indiscretions with other women.

Making a silent vow to myself, I resolved to enhance my appearance, invest in alluring lingerie, and strategize ways to capture Harry's heart. Despite the turmoil, my yearning for him only grew stronger, blinding me to the inevitable pain that lay ahead.

All Parts

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sanctuary1988 · 8 months ago

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~ Subtle Conscience | 5 | Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: strangers to lovers? fluff, light angst, TENSION, this is another light chapter tbh. period typical misogyny, age gap (huge), dark romance, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant, (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 2.5k words

A/N: Hi, everyone! SO, chapter 5 is here, I actually got a bit of writer's block during April and this came to me in a moment of inspiration. I really hope you will like this chapter as we are building something here! The cake is baking, darlings!

I inspired a scene on "Beauty and the Beast" as it was my favourite childhood princess movie. I guess that's where all the love for broken men started O.O

ANYWAYS.... I will not entertain you further, love. Happy reading everyone and please let me know your thoughts on this! I'd love to hear anything you had to say. 🫶

Hours turned to days. Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Time seemed to fly from your hands as you occupied yourself with managing the underground palace. Everything was on point, in order as you made it your task to keep everything in its place. You came to know that Gwi often left the underground paradise at night and never left during the day. He enjoyed having tea in the evenings and for you to join him for breakfast every morning. You came to know he often read in his solitude and the sweet nicknames he called you were your new designated name.

You sat in your room reading a book under the big cherry blossom tree that made the place smell deliciously sweet. You sighed to yourself already bored of the things written in it as it was the third time you read that book; however, despite your boredom, there were always things to do around the underground palace.

Morning came around and the routine began turning monotonous for you. With swift steps, you left your bedroom to meet Gwi in the main hall. He was sitting in his throne as usual, his demeanour as domineering as always. You bowed down at him, acknowledging his presence. You felt his eyes on your form as you walked in front of him and sat down at the table set out for you.

“I have noticed your impeccable work around, petal.”

He commented, his deep voice resonated over the big room. You sipped your tea, softly humming at the sweet taste before you spoke, your tone soft, bored even as you began to eat.

“I need to keep myself occupied, My Lord.”

“Is that so?”

And you nodded at his inquiry. Enjoying the food displayed out for you to eat. A subtle breeze entered the place, it was slightly colder than before, autumn was approaching and for that you were grateful, cooler days were to come. And with that, perhaps a change in a life you were forced to live.

Gwi noticed your apathetic self. Your grey soul reflected itself to him as if he were gazing at an enchanted mirror. His eyes trailed down your form, eyes as dark as night with a tinge of crimson of buried secrets and broken promises. He looked at you, taking in the way you were tense in your posture, your hands rigid as you ate and the restlessness in your still beautiful features he was mesmerised about.

He suddenly rose from his throne and you couldn’t help but look at him with big eyes filled with curiosity. Just as he took a step forward you rose from the table, hands tangling in front of you as you waited for his next move.

Gwi was entranced by your beauty. Delirious over your eyes and enchanted by your lips that spoke words that encouraged him to a path he knew was doomed to drown in blood. He remembered that day when he followed you into the marketplace. That day he got a glimpse of your silver innocence. Of your pure soul that was now at the mercy of his cruel hands. He missed seeing that smile, yearning for that ray of light that illuminated his dark life.

“My sweet flower, come with me.”

The command was soft-spoken yet it carried his power within the words that reached your ears. He extended his hand toward you and without hesitation, you took it. Trusting him blindly. Gwi didn’t know what to do with the knowledge of your blind trust. For he had once desired to have it in his possession but sadly realised you could be in danger for your golden heart.

But his flower was owner of very sharp thorns.

You followed him in silence, blinded by a trust you had earned ever so slowly. You reminiscenced on the first time Gwi took you to his underground palace that day at the flower garden in the royal palace above. The experience was similar, the sensation of being guided by him allowed you to rest and enjoy his mysterious self as he walked through his large palace hallways with torches and candles to illuminate the place even during daylight.

He stopped in front of a closed door before he turned to look down at you, his eyes met yours and you could swear you saw a spark of anxiousness in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it came before he spoke in that thunderous voice of his.

“You once spoke about your enjoyment when it came to reading and not once had you visited the marketplace again since we had that conversation.”

You blinked up at him, softly tilting your head to the side as your hand still rested in his bigger one.

“When you are burdened, flower of mine, lose yourself in the world of words”

His other hand slid open the door and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips at what was in front of you. You took a step forward, then another and another and your hand left his as you ventured into the room you didn’t know existed within this walls.

You couldn’t help the smile at what you were seeing, the craftings, the shelves, the books. The beauty within this room was magnificent to even put to words. The hidden room was a mesmerising library with large shelves filled with books and scrolls as well as paintings on the walls and flowers on vases. You could even smell the aroma from where you stood.

Gwi watched as you looked around in utter surprise. Completely awestruck at what you were seeing. Not even the royal library in the palace above you was this beautiful and you could firmly say so as you had once ventured there without your father’s permission.

“It’s beautiful.”

You whispered, completely enchanted by the beautiful library before you. Gwi watched you from the entrance way, he admired how the spark returned in your (e/c) eyes and how you smiled so innocently. Like that day at the marketplace. Silver Innocence. He thought to himself as he walked to stand next to you.

“If you like it, it’s yours then.”

You turned to look up at him with your eyes wide in utter surprise, trying to suppress the smile on your lips as you asked him, suddenly conscious of what he was giving you.

“Really?”

Gwi gave you a solemn nod as his hands tangled behind his back.

“I have found solace within these walls for many years. Come here whenever you like, petal. You do not need my permission to enter this place, it’s yours now.”

Your eyes locked with his in a delicate dance led by sentiment. You smiled, that smile that had dulled out from your beautiful features, that smile he had secretly missed. That smile that was enough to light his dark world.

“Thank you, My Lord. You have made me really happy.”

If you had looked at him for a second longer you would have seen the subtle smile that danced over his lips. Delicate in its nature. But you turned around as your eyes went from book to book, to scroll to scroll as you lost yourself in the world of poetry and ancient history. A new world Gwi had shown you and that you welcomed with open arms.

Evening came sooner than later and it was only when you noticed one of the candles in the library already about to burn out that you stood up and walked out of the magnificent room you had lost yourself into.

The underground palace was drowned in silence as usual. For only Gwi resided there and it was you who served him. It sometimes felt suffocating, to have so much empty space, so many thoughts wandering around, so many things to do. So much freedom inside your cage. You found a strange connection with the man who kept you to himself. It wasn’t of hate or of love. It was of gratitude. For he had saved you from an unwanted fate that would put even heavier chains on your heart than to serve him with absolute devotion to the lord who lived in secrecy.

You were quick to prepare his evening tea before you were walking to the main hall of the underground palace where Gwi sat in his throne, candles were all around the place as they flickered softly with the delicate blows of the wind that entered the palace from time to time.

His eyes met your form the moment you stepped inside, you bowed down while carrying the tray with his tea, your eyes casted down as you walked further into the room, up to his throne so that you could place the tray on the table next to him and pour him a cup of the steaming beverage.

In silence, he watched you work. In silence, he accepted the cup you held out for him. And in silence he took a sip from it.

“Your tea is always so sweet. What is it that you put in it?”

His words were spoken against the cup, murmured even. If you had been standing further away from him, you wouldn’t have been able to listen to him. Yet in their nature they were gentle, curious even as his eyes met yours under the candle’s light around you both

“Just some honey, My Lord. If you do not like it, I can always make you another cup.”

Gwi tilted his head, looking at you with utter magnificence that made a subtle blush paint your cheeks.

“I never said I did not like it.”

And with that, he took another sip, nearly emptying the cup before he handed it back to you. A silent order to fill it up again. The moment you handed it back, his fingers brushed against yours, sending tingles along your arms and down your spine.

“Did you enjoy your gift?”

A smile immediately painted your lips. And he admired the way you were so open with your happiness, especially after the source of said happiness was himself.

“How could I not?”

You spoke, your voice carrying emotions he couldn’t fully comprehend. Emotions he had already forgotten how they felt. Emotions that had died with his immortality. He lifted an eyebrow at your enthusiasm, merely curious about your perspective. But you lowered your gaze again, clearing your throat before speaking in a more proper tone.

“It is a beautiful gift, My Lord. I do not have the words to express just how grateful I am.”

But he didn’t like the change in your demeanour. He didn’t like the way you hid your feelings behind the veil society demanded you to cover your true nature. Your true emotions. Your innocence he so wanted to keep and corrupt at the same time.

He lifted your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, forcing you with delicate motions to meet his eyes once more. You did, though shyly at first. His eyes, dark with a tinge of crimson explored your beautiful features, your micro expressions. Your true colours at the reach of his palm.

“Don’t do that.”

You frowned and he continued, his deep voice nearly making you purr as he held you with firmness yet still softness to his touch. A touch that burned your skin.

“Do not hide from me, petal.”

You swallowed, your eyes never left his as his words crushed down everything you had learned since you were a mere child. To always appear beautiful, to never express yourself, to stay quiet, to never voice out your thoughts and concerns. It was mostly your father who taught you to be that way. It was socially acceptable. It was needed for you to belong to his circle. But you did not live that life anymore.

“Forgive me. Customs die hard, My Lord.”

Gwi lifted an eyebrow at you, his hand left your skin and you felt instantly cold at the lack of his tender touch.

“Is that so?”

You hummed, bowing softly before you stepped aside. Trying to break the tension between you both that threatened to drown you. Gwi continued to enjoy his tea in silence. The flickering candles dimmed out softly with the slow passing of time. You refilled his cup two more times before he spoke once more.

“Tomorrow night you’ll join me for dinner at the royal palace.”

With curiosity you looked at him but he seemed unbothered by the words that had just left his mouth. You blinked twice, trying to resist the temptation to ask, to question his choices. For you served him, he was your lord and master. But he had also forbidden you from hiding your true self.

“Why would you desire my company at such an event, My Lord?”

You knew tomorrow night an important dinner was to be hosted at the royal palace with the council. Gwi was to attend. Your father as well. Perhaps even the king himself would be there. But you were of little significance to the royal council. He looked at you, his expression soft as his eyes held a key to his many secrets. Gwi was a mysterious being. Something you did not dare question at all for you knew you’d receive no answer whatsoever. But there was something in his gaze that moment that made you want to unravel all the secrets and sins he held in his heart.

“Because you belong to me. You go where I go. You exist where I exist, and you will obey when I order it, petal. We made a deal, remember?”

You casted your gaze down, missing the subtle smirk that danced over his lips at your delicate submission. Yet the fire in your eyes never died down. The confidence in your stance never faltered. Not one bit.

“I’ve never forgotten, My Lord.”

Gwi tilted his head ever so slightly looking at you with expressive eyes that, had you been looking at him at that moment, you’d have seen oceans of feelings he kept hidden behind the veil of his nature. The veil of his power.

“Wear a red dress, my sweet flower. You are dismissed for today.”

You placed the teapot on the tray before bowing down in silence. His eyes followed your every movement as you walked away to your room and never glanced back at him. Never did you misstepped. Never did you lose your elegance in your walk. Never did you show him weakness. And for that, he smirked to himself.

For he knew he had a beautiful rose by his side with poisonous thorns that had already pierced his heart. Though if it was painful, he couldn’t tell. His heart was dead. But maybe, the roots of your existence could start making his heart blossom with something different from his infatuation.

Something deeper.

Something sacred.

Something he’d have to protect from the world and even from himself.

April/25/2024

A/N: How are we feeling about this? O.O

Are we excited? What would you like to see next, darling? My inbox is open 🫶

~ Masterpost

#lee soo hyuk #gwi x reader #kdrama #sanctuary1988 #scholar who walks the night #gwi #lee soo hyuk characters #vampire #the scholar who walks the night #kdrama series #korean drama #korean actor #kactor #gwi x reader fluff #gwi x reader angst #les pétals d'amour #beauty and the beast

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acciotherapists · 1 year ago

Text

Little Sparrow Chapter 6

Loki x Reader Mafia AU

When Tony Stark's little sister wakes up deep in enemy territory she assumes her life is over. She'll be killed or worse: used as a bargaining chip against her estranged brother. What happens when the mafia leader, Loki Laufeyson, offers her a deal she can't refuse? No sentiment. Only revenge. What happens when the truth is revealed? Will she betray her only family or betray the man she loves to hate? Little Sparrow is an enemies to lover's fic riddled with betrayal and spice!

Warnings: Odin, some physical abuse

Loki returned to the group, his hand still holding mine as he took the gun from Syf, thanking her.

“I don’t want to see you on our territory again.”

Tony scoffed. “And I don’t want to see you with my sister. So I guess we both aren’t getting what we want.”

“Just leave, Tony!” I hissed. “Shouldn’t you be talking with your old pal, Seth?”

“He’s a good man, Y/n. He could treat you far better than this idiot.”

“You may not want to insult the guy holding a gun to your head, Tony,” I replied, causing Loki to laugh under his breath. “Just leave, Tony. I don’t want to see you.”

Tony sighed as I turned to Loki. He hugged me with one arm, making sure to keep the gun pointed at Tony. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I looked up at him.

“Get us out of here… please,” I begged him as tears filled my eyes.

He smiled softly. “Of course, love. I’ve got you.” He looked at Tony. “You have until I count to five to be out of this building.”

Tony’s eyes widened.

“One!”

They quickly tossed some cash on the table for the coffee.

“Two!”

They grabbed their coats.

“Three!”

The door slammed shut and they were gone. I breathed a sigh of relief as Loki put the gun down, tucking it into his waistband.

“You alright?”

I nodded as he held my face, searching my face, though for what I wasn’t entirely sure. When he seemed satisfied with what he saw he pulled me closer and pressed his lips to mine, soft at first soft at first but slowly growing rougher by the second.

“We need to talk,” he murmured against my lips. “I want the truth when we get home.”

I nodded and we waited a few minutes before making our way out of the cafe, having Syf stay with me as Loki made sure the coast was clear, despite my protests.

They were gone.

***

The three Avengers quickly made their way to a waiting car. As they climbed inside Tony turned to Natasha. “Did you do it?”

She nodded. “The tracker’s on the inside of her jacket. It’ll lead us back to their base.”

Chapter

When we returned to the base I tossed my jacket on a chair in our room as Loki shut the door behind us.

“You sure you’re alright?”

I nodded and he moved his hand to my cheek, gently brushing the skin with his thumb.

“You gonna tell me who Seth is?”

I sighed, pulling away from him and walking toward the window. Loki doesn’t seem phased as he moves behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t want to do this right now, Loki.” I knew this conversation was unavoidable but I didn’t want it to happen so soon.

“Y/n, please… just talk to me.”

I watched as a rabbit greedily stuffed blades of grass into its tiny mouth outside the window and I smiled at the sight.

“I’m sure you can figure it out, Laufeyson. You’re a smart man.” The rabbit seemed disturbed by something in the distance and scurried away.

“I want to hear it from you.”

I sigh, turning to face him. “We’re engaged. Is that what you want to hear?” I hissed. “Tony set up the arrangement and didn’t give me a choice. An Asgardian had been spotted near the border and crossed into our territory. Seth and I were sent to see who it was and remove them. He ambushed us and Seth ran. Your guy dragged me into Asgardian territory… and well… you know the rest.”

“He just left you? He was supposed to be your husband… and he left you?”

I scoffed. “Get used to it, Laufeyson. Everyone leaves.”

I tried to walk away but he stopped me. “I know that feeling all too well but you… you should never know that feeling.” He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You will never know that feeling again.”

“Dont.”

He seemed confused.

“Don’t say things like that.”

“I mean it…and if I ever see Seth in person… I’ll kill him.”

“Loki…”

He shushed me by pressing his lips against mine, murmuring softly against them. “I’ll kill him… I promise I’ll kill him.” He pressed me against the wall, moving his lips against mine. He kissed me softly for a few moments before pulling away, pressing his forehead against mine.

“Get some rest, little one.” He kissed my forehead and left the room, leaving me alone to get ready for bed.

****

I tossed and turned most of the night, unable to find a comfortable position as my mind swirled with worries. It was unlike Tony to be so calm. Why had they just been sitting there? Why didn’t Tony have his suit? He would’ve brought it if he’d been planning to fight.

What the hell were they planning?

****

I woke the next morning to find Loki gone, though he wasn’t gone for long as the door swung open and Loki entered our shared room bruised and bleeding.

“What the hell happened?” I yelled, rushing over to him, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

“I got word that Bruce was seen outside. It was an ambush. Banner, Romanov, and the little witch were waiting for me.”

“They were here? How?”

“I don’t know but they didn’t get far.” He chuckled but quickly stopped, hissing in pain.

“You need a doctor.”

He chuckled. “Don’t fret, little one. It’s just a couple of broken ribs and they’ll heal soon enough. I’m Asgardian, remember?”

I rolled my eyes. “Bruce, Nat, and Wanda did this to you?”

He chuckled. “Your little friends pack quite a punch.”

“Why would they do this?”

“Still so innocent… even after all these years,” he muttered.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked as he flopped onto his bed.

“Nothing, little one… Nothing.”

I sat on the bed next to him. “Can you at least let me see?”

“You just want to see with my shirt off, huh?”

“Would you shut up and be serious for once?”

He rolled his eyes but lifted his shirt, revealing his torso, littered with purple bruises.

“I’m going to kill them,” I muttered.

He looked up, his eyes locking with mine. “Why?”

“Aren’t girlfriends supposed to protect their boyfriends?” I answered playfully.

“In theory, though that was never usually the case for any of my girlfriends.”

“Their loss,” I replied as my finger gently traced the edges of a bruise. He hissed and I quickly apologized, removing my hand, but he stopped me, returning my hand to his chest.

“It’s alright, little dove. You didn’t hurt me.”

I titled my head curiously, watching as the bruises slowly disappeared. He lifted his hand, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

The door suddenly burst open and Odin entered. “What the hell is this?” he growled. “Stop being weak, boy. Get up! We have work to do!”

“He’s hurt, you asshole!” I yelled, standing from the bed as Odin approached, towering over me.

“Step aside.”

“Go to hell.”

There was a loud slap and I hit the ground hard, my cheek stinging from the impact. I looked up, finding Odin standing over me before Loki jumped in front of his father.

“That’s enough!” Loki shouted, pushing hard against his father’s chest.

“So, we’re doing this again, are we son?” Odin laughed bitterly. “You remember what happened the last time?”

“Shut your mouth!”

“Loki, what is he talking about?”

“Get out!” Loki shouted at his father.

“I’m tired of you defending that little bitch and choosing her over this family!” Odin raised his hand to Loki and I could feel my anger rising. I picked myself up off the ground and grabbed Odin’s wrist, shoving him away from Loki.

Odin laughed. “Need a little girl to fight your battles for you?”

He raised his other hand and wrapped it around my throat, lifting me off the ground.

“Father, stop!” Loki yelled as I clutched at Odin’s wrist, fighting to breathe. He suddenly threw me backward and my head collided with the metal bed frame before everything went black.

*******

Taglist: @honeyrydernot @evelyn-kingsley

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