#i am all for flower paths and happy situations but i can understand why the queen did and said what she said honestly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vote-gaara · 2 years ago

Note

about that thing where your oc leaves gaara since he was being too cold... i'd be interested in seeing a fic

Authors Note: This is part of The Sands of Time fic, which in its entirety literally follows the same storyline as canon events, but gaps are filled in with...umm...this. Context: Kaiya and Gaara are friends here but have been romantically involved once before. They do go ahead and fight again in this one. Sadly, their relationship yo-yos constantly right around when Gaara becomes Kazekage up until they're about 21 (yikes lol). This one is their last major blowup fight that is set after Gaara learns he's going to be married to that woman from Gaara Hiden. Gaara opts to go along with the marriage meeting despite Kaiya's criticisms about it, and he's pretty mean to her about it, prioritizing his status over their friendship. When the marriage situation solves itself, Gaara expects they can simply put it behind them, but Kaiya is a lot less willing to forgive this time...For reasons Gaara will shorty find out, and it will be a life long lesson and reminder that sometimes the people we think we know best actually live completely different lives underneath.

During Gaara Hiden

Gaara let out a quiet sigh and leaned back in his office chair, his eyes rising from the stale white paper of the proposal letter he had been reviewing idly for the last fifteen minutes. Kaiya was sitting next to him, fully slumped in her chair, while twirling around an origami flower between her scarred fingers. Her mouth moved slightly as Gaara watched her think, and he allowed just the slightest of noises to come from the back of his throat as he sighed again.

Kaiya glanced at him, ceasing her twirling though she did not sit up. “I think I know the solution to your problem.”

“I’m getting married.” Gaara blurted out. He, himself, didn’t understand why those words had left his mouth, and his heart lurched forward as if to snatch them back out of the air.

“Whoa!” Kaiya erupted as she launched herself forward, turning to face him. “Whoa! I was not expecting you to say that!”

Her fingers were drumming on the thick wooden desk which Gaara could barely stand; it was as if the rhythm would disrupt the pulsing of his own frantic heartbeat, forcing him into cardiac arrest. He hated how uncomfortable he was all of a sudden, cursing the pesky cold sweat on the back of his neck which had been burdening him lately. It seemed to him to be such a pointless reaction to the recent events. Why should he feel so stressed? Wasn’t marriage a normal path to take in life?

Gaara stilled his mind and through sheer will, his thudding heart too. He looked up at Kaiya’s excited face and said, “Well, I suppose you were going to know eventually.”

“This is crazy!” Kaiya yelled, her palms now slapped against the desk with every word. “You never told me you were dating anyone, or seeing anyone, or in love.” She leaned over and batted her eyelashes at him, surely teasing him. “I am so excited! So happy for you!”

“Thank you,” Gaara said quietly as he watched Kaiya beam at him all the more.

“Who is she?” Kaiya asked, she was leaning forward now with a serious expression and a complete inability to sit still.

“What?”

“Who is she?” Kaiya repeated, “The woman you’re going to marry. Who is she and do I know her?”

“No…” Gaara said. He looked back down at his proposal letter as he worked in his mind how to disengage from the conversation. He had acted carelessly by bringing it out in the first place, and now it was time to retreat and compose himself for when he was much more equipped to handle it - whatever that meant.

“Okay, then who is it?” Kaiya insisted. “Please? I won’t tell anyone, I understand the secrecy and all that, but you have to understand that if I don’t know who it is by the end of the day I’m literally going to explode.”

“You will not explode,” Gaara sighed, feigning being fed up but secretly thankful at the opportunity to derail the conversation. “Such a thing would be impossible.”

Yet Kaiya wasn’t having it and she slapped her hand down hard on the desk again. “I will explode into a million pieces, literally parts of me all over the walls and the ceiling. It would be a mess to clean up, really it would. Please just tell me.”

Gaara let out a deep sigh and examined Kaiya’s pleading face. He knew her to be far too stubborn and persistent to let up, so he had no other choice.

“I don’t know much about her…” He admitted.

“Okay, well now you’re really going the extra distance to not tell me.” Kaiya said, slumping back in her chair.

“No,” Gaara said, “I don’t know much about her. It’s an arranged marriage. The counselors decided that it’s time for me to marry.”

Hatred, rage, disgust and distrust; Gaara had seen those eyes before. They had glared at him, on strangers' faces in the streets, they had been present on his own father’s face as he used to address his younger self, and they had even reflected back at him as he stared, empty and purposeless at his own reflection in the mirror. Numerous times through his twenty hard years on earth he had seen eyes like that, and yet never had he ever seen them take hold of Kaiya like they did in that very moment. He watched as the light in her face darkened, her features dropping to a deep, piercing stare.

“Don’t.” Kaiya’s voice was low and firm, like a snarl.

“I don’t have a choice,” Gaara explained, though his voice was cold. The look on Kaiya’s face had struck a nerve deep inside of him, and he felt at war with her all of a sudden.

“You always have a choice, yo-.”

“This is above my own personal desires.” Gaara interrupted forcefully, causing Kaiya’s jaw to slam shut as her eyes bore into him all the more. “You wouldn’t understand something like this.”

Kaiya ignored him and shook her head in a way that looked stiff and rigid. “It’s morally indefensible. So don’t.”

Gaara examined Kaiya, her body was so stiff in contrast to her usual bouncy self, her voice so low, her stare so immensely hard like that of a tiger’s. It felt almost impossible for Gaara to see her this way, and although part of him wanted to reach towards her and to confide in her as a friend, there was too much responsibility that lay at his feet. Gaara wasn’t the type of person who had the luxury of doing whatever he pleased, he never was that person. Rather, he had his other friends, his village, and the safety of the whole world to take care of, and he simply didn’t have time for Kaiya’s stubborn philosophies or personal whimsies.

“Perhaps I have invested too much time into her in the first place,” Gaara thought, though it did not come from a place of enlightenment but instead from a miserable place inside him that felt rotten and foreign.

“It’s not a matter of simply refusing,” Gaara said curtly, turning back to his paper again as the acidic feeling of anger and sadness rose in the back of his throat.

“I think it is,” Kaiya challenged. “You have two options, you either go through with this or you don’t. I am saying to you: Don’t.”

“And I am saying to you that this is beyond you.” Gaara retorted. He could see Kaiya wince as if he had struck her, and just like sand slipping through his fingers, he watched her fall away from him.

“You think that?” Kaiya said coldly as she stood, “You know nothing about me. You don’t know a goddamn thing about me, or about what is or isn’t beyond me. I’m asking you as my friend, don’t do this.”

Gaara stared up at her levelly, “I can’t continue to do this…To put you above being Kazekage…” He glanced down in sadness, but only for a moment before looking back up at her. He could see now that the expression in her eyes was shifting, but he couldn’t give in.

“This is something that I need to do.” He said, his tone slightly softer than before as he hoped it would reach her and pull her back into the closeness they had with each other.

Yet it didn’t.

“If that’s so, then we are not friends,” Kaiya answered, “And we can never be friends again.”

The words caught Gaara by surprise, and they almost felt ridiculous to him. Kaiya was known for being dramatic, but this was a step too far, and he felt angry with her for it. He stood to address her, but she had already turned to leave his office.

“Kaiya,” He called after her, irritated.

Kaiya didn’t stop and she didn’t turn to acknowledge him. Instead he watched as the door to his office quietly closed and his good friend walked out of his life.

Post Gaara Hiden

It had been months since he had visited her, but somehow the days had made it seem so much longer, so much so that Gaara was surprised to see that Kaiya’s small house, far away from the village, appeared just as it had when he last laid eyes upon it.

Gaara looked downwards from where he stood on a sand dune, and marveled at the strangeness of the setting before him. He always felt in awe of it, perhaps because it was so unnatural; with plants and trees rooted in rich, dark soil and stormy rain clouds overhead. It was a small little paradise that was completely unnatural inside the desert, and all of Kaiya’s own making.

Scanning the biome below, Gaara noticed Kaiya resting in a ratty old lawn chair, her back towards him. The smallest of smiles formed on his face as relief flooded through him; he had been hoping she was home, and now it was time for the two of them to make amends.

“Kaiya,” Gaara called as he got closer, walking up beside her to see she was wearing sunglasses despite the overcast weather. “You look well,” Gaara offered, but she did not reply nor did she look up at him. It was as if he was a phantom, calling to her from a plain of existence that she could not hear and could not see. Her stiffness didn’t bother Gaara, however, since the news he had would surely dissolve the conflict between them and they could be friends once more.

He looked around, seeing a stump that had been used for cutting wood, with scars that were deep and unhealing. He sat on it, hoping to remain casual so that afterward the two of them could chat easily for a while after. He had missed his friend and was interested in what she had been up to the past few weeks.

“I have news I thought you might like,” Gaara explained. “I didn’t get married. The woman I was meant to marry, Hakuto, had been kidnapped from the marriage meeting. It was a scheme made up by her partner and by some of my personal detractors from the village…” Gaara trailed off as he examined Kaiya who still had not responded in any way to his presence. “It resulted in quite the situation, but in the end Hakuto and her partner were safely moved to Konoha under secret identities so that they could live out their lives together.”

Gaara waited for a moment, anticipating Kaiya to erupt with glee; to greet him, hug him and to put the entire thing behind them for good. He waited for what felt like minutes, watching as Kaiya’s chest fell up and down rhythmically, but she still did not move.

“Is she asleep?” He thought.

“Kaiya…” Gaara leaned forward to stand, to reach for her and to shake her shoulder gently, but she surprised him by turning to face him abruptly.

“Is that all?”

Gaara was speechless for a moment and blinked at her. “Well…Yes.”

“Okay.” Kaiya said, turning away again. “You can go, then.”

“Why?” Gaara felt the irritation rise in him. This was supposed to fix things, she was supposed to be relieved and happy about the news, and Gaara couldn’t fathom why she was still so mad at him.

“In the end, I did exactly as you wanted,” He argued.

“Oh well, sounds like you did the bare minimum for being a half-way decent person.” Kaiya said in such a snarky way that Gaara felt all the more angry with her.

“What do you mean by that?” He challenged.

“Do I really have to hold a big song and dance ceremony for you? Do you want a medal? Well congrats, you placed first prize in empathy for not forcing some poor, random girl to marry you. Really, you did a phenomenal job.” Kaiya snapped, her voice full of sarcasm and venom. She leaned forward in her chair, her muscles tense and Gaara knew she was glaring at him from under her sunglasses.

“I don’t understand why you are upset,” Gaara’s voice remained level despite his anger. Perhaps if he tried a different approach, to understand her position, he would be able to quell the rage that she was feeling towards him.

“I’m upset because I expected more from you.” Kaiya spat at him, “I never thought in a million years that you would go forward with something like this. What, you just feel you aren’t good at romantic relationships so you just go along with the easiest option available? You let some gaggling, double-dealing fossils drag over some girl they found, just so that you can be happy? So that she can cook and clean for you, wait for you to come home so you can fuck her, and so she can bare your kids, take care of them only to watch them get shipped off on various missions or to their deaths? What would be in it for her, hm? I don’t see how that’s anything other than a prison sentence for her and you just accepted it so readily. It disgusts me.”

Gaara’s body tensed at his defense. Kaiya’s words made sense, but they made sense only in a perfect world, but Gaara didn’t know the world as perfect. He knew it as flawed and with many different circumstances that were unsavory, but were bearable through hard work and endurance. In the beginning marrying a stranger may seem to be doomed to walk along the same tracks Kaiya had explained, but Gaara didn’t want that for the woman he would eventually marry. He didn’t want to tie someone down and have them sacrifice their life, their body or their children to him; isn’t that why he went through all the trouble of letting Hakuto go? He wasn’t a villain for agreeing to the marriage, he was simply handling the circumstances that were in front of him.

“Why doesn’t she understand that?” Gaara thought in frustration.

He wanted Kaiya to see his point of view, but more so he wanted her to let it go forever so that they both didn’t have to deal with it anymore. Scouring his brain, he wondered if maybe there was something else he was missing, but he didn’t know what to ask in order to fully understand. Instead he tried by saying, “Women are happily married all the time.”

“That’s by choice.” Kaiya said, her voice exasperated and sad. “They choose that for themselves.”

“Ah, so then is this about us?” Gaara asked simply without thinking, and he was worried for a moment that Kaiya would explode on him, and yet all she did was wave a dismissive hand at him.

“This isn’t about what has happened between you and me. Believe it or not, but I actually form my opinions based on a variety of influences, not just what happens when you’re involved.”

Kaiya leaned further into her chair, resting her head and rocking it back and forth as if methodically trying to soothe a headache. Though she still seemed angry, she seemed calm enough now that Gaara felt suddenly optimistic about repairing what was broken between them.

“I know that,” He conceded and Kaiya scoffed.

“It’s difficult for a person like me to do as I please, just as it was a difficult position for the woman the elder’s picked for me to marry.” Gaara explained, he purposely avoided using Hakuto’s name in case it would offend Kaiya, and he continued. “I don’t have the privilege to marry whoever I wish because I’m superior -”

“Superior. Superior?” Kaiya laughed a cruel laugh and she leaped forward in her chair, ignited once more with anger. “Oh well if you’re so superior to me and everyone else, then tell me, should I bow when you address me, your highness?”

“Kaiya I didn’t mean it like tha-”

“Should I avert my gaze? Offer you some peasant bread or something?” Kaiya spat as she whipped her sunglasses off, her eyes blazing with fire that not even the tears that were pooling in them could quench. “What do you want from me?” She howled in rage and anguish.

“I want to know why you’re so angry with me.” Gaara’s own voice was rising, his heart pounding against his ribcage so hard that he could barely hear himself over the thumping of his pulse in his ears. Panicked, he could see once again Kaiya slipping away from him and he desperately wanted her back, but he was clumsy in these circumstances at the best of times and he was frustrated that she wasn’t listening to him or understanding what he was saying. It was as if they were speaking two different languages where everything was offensive to the other.

“Aside from what I just have been telling you?” Kaiya let out another small, incredulous laugh. “You really want to know - once more - why I am so angry with you?”

“Yes…” Gaara offered solemnly, though by now he was beginning to realize knowing wouldn’t rectify the situation; there was simply just nothing else to say.

“Yeah, okay, from the top then,” Kaiya’s voice was mean and smoldering, “I think you spent so long working towards being in the position you are in now that you forgot what it’s like to be grubbin’ in the dirt just like the rest of us. You think everything is impossible for you just because you are in a higher class and you have this image and status to uphold, but you’re really no different than me or any of the other nameless faces you see passing you by on the street - we’re all desperately clinging to our status, we’re all fighting for what we love every single day - You, me and the rest of society are no different. Yet I’m sitting here wondering if you can tell me exactly the precise moment when you felt your own blood, sweat and tears become more valuable than mine or anyone else’s?”

Kaiya’s voice quivered, but she did not waiver as she continued, “You think your existence is so important to the world all of a sudden that you just throw your hands up and say ‘well now that I’m Kazekage, I can’t upset the apple cart or I won’t be able to accomplish what I sought to accomplish’ but that’s not the Gaara I know. The Gaara I know fought so hard for recognition because he wanted to be important to the people who actually mattered. The Gaara I knew wouldn’t agree to things like some dumb marriage proposal because surely, the Gaara I knew would understand that forcing two people into a marriage would be like forcing someone to be a Jinchuriki. But somewhere along the way the Gaara I knew changed, and now suddenly he got this sense that he’s more valuable than the vey people he wanted to protect.”

The words sunk down to the bottom of Gaara’s soul, like an anchor detached from a lost vessel at sea. There was nothing to say, no response to any of it, and so Gaara lowered his head and closed his eyes. He could feel his bottom lip quivering as he tried to compose himself, but found that he could not. “What…can I do to fix this?” He asked quietly, miserably. He met her gaze and he saw that she also had tears running down her face.

“You can get up and you can walk back the way you came, and you can keep walking back to your village, back to your estate and back to your office and you can sit there and stay there, and not come by, or visit me, or send for me ever again for as long as you and I both live.”

“No…” Gaara’s voice was pleading and he leapt to his feet as soon as Kaiya rose from her seat, and he grabbed her by the hand and turned her around. “No.”

Kaiya took his hand in hers and squeezed before gently placing it back to his side. The gales of rage that had once whipped around her words and pierced Gaara like shrapnel were gone now, and instead the two of them stood wounded in the aftermath. Neither of them had won.

“It’s for the best,” Kaiya whispered as she tried to smile through her tears - perhaps in hopes she would believe her own words. “You know…”

“Yes?” Gaara encouraged, desperate for her words though they had hurt him so much. Kaiya met his gaze and her blue eyes searched inside his for a moment.

“There’s so much you don’t know about me.” She said finally, turning away from him though Gaara reached for her again. This time, however, she pulled away but not before turning back to look at him one last time. “It’s for the best.” She whispered.

Gaara followed her a few paces as she retreated into her home, leaving him alone once again. He stood in shock and pain for a long time as he watched the house, wondering what he could do. It wasn’t until the clouds parted and the warm rays of sun shone through the grey clouds above did Gaara look up to the sky, to the sun, and to the very heavens above.

***

"Lord Kazekage, we have some urgent news for you."

Gaara looked up at his subordinate and he was suddenly struck at how dull colours had looked lately. He had barely noticed the bright red urgent coloured scroll in the hand of the man in front of him - in fact Gaara had barely even heard him as his mind was so distant from where he sat in his office.

"It's...not good news." The shinobi said as he shifted nervously, hesitating just briefly before surrendering the scroll.

"I see..." Gaara said flatly, taking a moment to look at the closed scroll before he took it in his hand. "That will be all for now," Gaara said to his subordinate.

The shinobi coughed. "Pardon me, sir...But the elders would like to know what your answer is now."

The clouds in Gaara's mind parted slightly and he looked up once more at his subordinate, the colours of the man's attire coming into focus. Sober from his grief for a moment, Gaara took up the scroll and unwrapped it.

There was a drawn wanted poster of a very familiar face which read: --------------------------------

WANTED ALIVE - BOUNTY 8,000,000 RYO Known aliases: Kaiya Suspected of murder, treason, arson, theft, fraud, and identity theft. Last seen in Sunagature. Known notable acquaintances are Fifth Kazekage, Gaara.

If seen, please report to known authorities. DO NOT APPROACH. Any information leading to rightful arrest will be awarded.

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

Gaara put the scroll down and stood up abruptly. He walked swiftly across his office and to the door before his subordinate called after him. "Sir, what should I say to the council?"

"That I wasn't in my office." Gaara replied before slipping out of the door.

#gaara #tsot

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nonchalantee · 1 year ago

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small perspective flip for any scene of your choice in not strong or brave but a secret third thing if you feel like it! thanks love the fic!

ooo this one is kinda tough actually since that fic has 4 main povs already but HMM lolol in the spirit of chaos, let's go with a donato bro. gelly at dan's congrats! you're a captain! party:

Angelo:

"You can't show up empty-handed," his mom grouses at him over the line while Gelly is busy pouring terrible cop breakroom coffee.

"I'll bring him flowers," Gelly says, rolling his eyes.

"Buck?"

"Huh? Why would I bring Buck flowers? The party is for Dan, right?"

His mom huffs an exasperated sigh. "Gelly-"

"I could have sworn Lu said Dan was the one who was getting the promotion."

"He is," his mom says. "But, listen, Captain Nash is very important to Buck. You need to make a good impression on him, understand? Bring something for the table. Like a charcuterie board or something."

"I'll be late if I stop to do that," Gelly says patiently. He gulps his coffee down in three large swallows, too hot, and sags slightly against his desk. Another 20 minutes left on shift, quick home to change and psych himself up for a social event filled with mostly strangers, then driving over to the directions Lucy gave him. He's the only brother without kids, and one of the only ones left without even a partner, which means he gets to be the official Family Presence for celebration events like this.

"Angelo Lucian Donato, I am trying to give you important advice."

Gelly winces. Full named, okay. "Fine, fine," he says. "I'll get a board from the supermarket, happy? Though I doubt being late will make any better impression than showing up with food."

A brief pause, then, "No, you're right." Before Gelly can say anything to that, his mom adds, "I'll get it for you. Is it better for me to drop it off at work or at home?"

"Ma... what's going on? This is kinda, uh, not normal behavior from you."

"Just trust me," she says, brisk. "Home or work?"

"Home," Gelly answers, giving up.

Everyone in the family always talked about Gelly and Lucy like they were copies of one another. They had the same approach to people and situations. They even looked the most alike out of all the kids. Gelly had had his own post-graduation wild child phase that had pioneered the path for Lucy, years later, to spend a few years surfing and working odd jobs without the family freaking out overmuch; they were the two perpetually singles at every family function. Then Dan showed up and became Lucy's steady plus one, but Gelly honestly thought that was all they were ever going to be.

He knew Daniel Buckley pretty well. He even more or less liked Daniel Buckley. Dan was an unquestionably great guy, and he looked at Lucy like she hung the stars in the sky, so Gelly didn't actually have any kind of objection to the man. But Gelly also never thought they were on track for marriage. He thought Lucy was like him in this way the way she was like him in almost every other way: that she liked herself, liked her life, too much to lock it in step with anyone else's. Make herself beholden to someone else, someone not family.

Her getting married a few months ago threw Gelly for a loop because, for maybe the first time, he started looking at his life and thinking Is this where I'm supposed to be? It was maybe more introspection than he ever really gave himself in the past, and it led to some recent dating misadventures as he attempted to also find his forever someone to settle down with. He hadn't thought anyone had really noticed, but he'd forgotten a key piece of information, which was: Marian Donato.

She's waiting for him in his kitchen, having let herself into his apartment with her key, busy at work transferring a grocery store charcuterie board onto a nice tray. She's frowning a little bit in concentration and barely looks up when Gelly walks in, only paying enough attention to him to ask, "Do you want some coffee before you get going?"

Rather than say anything else, Gelly just responds, "Sure, Ma, that would be great."

She gives him approval he doesn't ask for over the outfit he changes into, then messes with his hair till he bats her hands away; then presses his travel mug into one hand and pushes the charcuterie tray into his chest with the other, frowning as she looks him over.

"Maybe you should bring some flowers," she frets.

"For who...?"

"Captain Nash's wife, obviously. I hear she's also important to Buck."

"Okay." Gelly puts both the tray and the coffee down on the counter, then faces his mom. "Explain."

She huffs an impatient breath. "I just want you to make a good impression."

"Uh-huh. Explain in more detail, now."

"Dan was basically an orphan when Lucy brought him home. We didn't have to appease any family. It's not going to be so easy with Buck-"

"Okay, that's too many times you have mentioned Buck today. What's going on, Mom? For real."

She gives him an exasperated glare. "You're looking to settle down," she says, a statement and not a question. Gelly inclines his head, because he knows better than to lie to his mom. She says, "Right now, you're dating your way through everyone you avoided when you were just being casual."

"Okay, how do you know that?"

"I am very observant," she says. "Which is how I know that in about three more weeks, probably after Lucy and Dan drag Buck to family dinner, you're going to look at him and think of him as an option. Because right now everyone is an option. And I am here to tell you, Buck is an excellent option."

Gelly stares at her, brow raised. "Ma, this sounds kinda crazy." Buck is a great kid - he was an amazing partner to Lucy, and Gelly is honestly upset that she's going to lose that in the station transfer - but Buck is almost a decade younger than Gelly and Lucy would kill him, besides. And then Dan would make sure his corpse was desecrated beyond recognition. The guy has a protective streak that Gelly, as a fellow big brother, can see from space.

"I'm just keeping you from stumbling before you even start to race," his mom says. She picks his mug back up and pushes it back towards him. "I'll carry the tray. Come on, we've got to get you going. You can't be late. First impressions! You're meeting the two people Buck thinks of as parents, here."

"Oh, my god," Gelly mumbles, and dutifully follows her out the door.

The Grant-Nashes have a pretty swank house, not ostentatious, but classy and warm. It looks like something that would be featured in an architectural magazine of one kind or another. Captain Nash and Sergeant Grant greet him together at the door, and recognize him by name when he introduces himself.

"Angelo, of course, welcome," Athena says, a delighted smile on her face. It even looks authentic. "Please come in. Lucy and Dan are out in the yard - I think they're trying to get the barbecue going."

"As if we didn't already have enough food," Bobby says indulgently. "Though, of course, more is always welcome." He takes the charcuterie tray out of Gelly's hands with a genuine seeming, "This looks great!" while leading Gelly into the kitchen/living room area.

"My mom always says to not show up empty handed," Gelly says. In fact, she'd said it as she closed his car door on him, glowering at him in maternal bossiness.

"Marian is her own brand of terrifying," Buck chimes in, rising from a crouched position in the kitchen. Gelly had entirely missed him on first view: he takes Buck in now.

He's of a height with Gelly, which not many men can claim, though they both fall a little short of Dan's own giant frame. He's big, thanks to all of the functional muscle that firefighters put on, and it looks good on him. He wears it glowingly well, all health and rosy cheeks, bright eyes, big smile.

"You're her favorite, you know nothing of how scary she can actually be," Gelly says, and watches Buck's eyes crinkle in a happy, teasing grin. "Hey, Buck."

"Gelly, hey," Buck says, and takes the few steps forward necessary to bring him within half-hug territory. His arms are huge around Gelly, solid, strong. Gelly claps him on his broad, muscled back, and feels their chests make full contact. This close, he can tell that Buck even smells good - light cologne, more like an afterthought, melding into the base notes of his own personal scent. Gelly squeezes him tighter for a second, feels Buck squeeze him a bit in return, and finds he doesn't actually want to let go.

But it would be weird to not let go.

Buck stays with him and introduces him around to the others who have already arrived - Gelly's met Maddie Buckley before, but not often, and she is even more pregnant now than she was a few months ago. Like, Gelly's pretty sure she's about to pop any second, level of pregnant. Hen and Karen Wilson are fun, and the assorted first responders from the 147 are vaguely familiar in that Gelly has either met them once or twice through Lucy or seen them at some kind of emergency. He banters a bit with them before swooping in on Lucy and Dan, still out on the patio, still hovering over a stubbornly unlit grill.

Gelly smacks a congratulatory kiss to Dan's cheek, channeling his Nonna's spirit to really sell the celebratory ambience, and tells his brother-in-law congratulations.

"Thanks," Dan says, dry. "Do you know how to work this thing?"

"I'm sure we can figure it out," Gelly says magnanimously. But he finds that, even while he's standing with them, ostensibly making some kind of helpful conversation, his gaze is unerringly drawn through the glass doors, finding Buck. Hmmm. Buck looks good in a crowd. People gravitate toward him. He smiles big, he laughs big, he emotes joy with his whole body. He's louder than Dan, but he's not abrasive. He's just... a sweet guy. A really sweet, nice guy. Gelly already knows his family loves Buck. Gelly was not actually kidding when he called Buck Marian's favorite. And Buck is already 'Uncle Buck' to an entire generation of Donatos. Hmmm. A sweet, nice, young guy.

But age gap romances work out. They work out all the time. It's not like either one of them is actually a kid; they're both adults.

Buck is, uh, very adult. Gelly watches him bend down to give Maddie a hand in standing - watches Buck's forearm muscles flex, the way he instinctively braces her and makes sure she has her balance. She says something that makes him laugh and hmmm. He looks good all the time but he looks even better when he's laughing.

Gelly probably looks weird right now with how he's staring without blinking, but... what was that his mom had said again? Buck is an excellent option. She's biased, obviously, but she's not wrong.

He lands himself back by Buck's side, them crowded together as more people arrive. Buck absentmindedly wraps a friendly arm around Gelly's shoulders. He's strong enough that he doesn't even seem to notice when Gelly leans into him; Buck just shifts his weight slightly to brace for it. The first true spark of attraction starts to burn in Gelly at that reaction; he's not sure why that's the thing that does it - maybe the easy strength, maybe the unthinkingly generous responsiveness, maybe just something ineffable altogether. But the attraction is here and it's real and Gelly already feels it starting to grow.

Okay, Gelly thinks. He's not sure what he's agreeing to - maybe to his mom, maybe to the universe, for putting Buck right in front of him. There's a symmetry to it. He and Lucy always doing the same thing. On multiple levels, the idea of this just feels right.

Maybe it's ironic that he's thinking this just as the prickles start needling up and down his spine. Gelly's gaze snaps up, and he casts looks around, trying to figure out what triggered his fight or flight reflex.

Lucy, still by the barbecue, still next to Dan, but staring straight at him. A small frown on her face. The slight widening of her eyes as her eyes shift, micro-expression style, from Gelly to Buck and back again. Hostile suspicion dawning in her gaze. Gelly shifts ever so slightly closer to Buck and watches his little sister's eyes narrow.

He slowly, deliberately, wraps his arm around Buck's waist. Lucy shakes her head at him, very slowly, mouthing an emphatic No. But Gelly is feeling the smug certainty of every sibling who has their mom on their side, as he gives Lucy a slow smile back.

#the dan fic #outtake #thank u for the ask!#i'm glad u like the fic <3 #and LOL i wrote this scene knowing gelly is not rly gonna be a part of the fic #just u know #bit part in some scenes for ~flavor #tbh the donato brother i'm rooting for #if we go for a buckley boys sweep #is tony donato #he's an underdog but he's got cute kids #but gelly is fun and marian is even more fun #so have this oc pov ig #hope it was enjoyable

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mmunson86 · 1 year ago

Text

Look at this point and time i really do not understand what Charlenes angle is, she has gotten away with alot and had gotten rammed by the holy trinity ! Girly pop just go back to your husband and stop screwing young men to fill the empty void in your heart, or divorce your husband and keep Billy but leave Steve & Eddie alone they have had enough of your manipulation game’s.

As much as you wish you never met her Eddie i guess you had to go through it for our paths to cross, babe you got us now , know that you are going to be loved & cared for like you never have before! Agreed though Charlene is a determined individual she will do whatever she has too in order to get what she wants! in this case i am afraid its Steve, and i want Steve to be happy but with Astrid i feel like those two are meant to be Astrid is Steves soulmate i feel it in my bones🥹💗

“But I might sing one or two with her. Just for you.”

Eddie you are making my heart flutter! As if i couldnt love this man anymore he is going yo sing for us?! Thats honestly the sweetest gesture😭💗

“He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him.”

Suddenly my heart is rising and is no longer the only thing that is fluttering okay i am going to shut up🤣

Steveeee Nooo lol crap gosh darn it look i am not saying she doesn’t deserve love but i just want Steve & Astrid to work out soooo bad like i am cheering for these two & here comes this snake ! Why did you fell for it Steve! WHY🥲

“You must be War Machine’s old lady,”

Okaaay not me getting all giddy like a school girl at the fact that Billy knows we are Eddies girlfriend but yes yes we are Billy nice to know that its known🤭💅🏻

yeah dont do that Billy that is the shit that is going to get your ass beat i want to smack him , he is lucky Eddie didnt catch him pulling that crap or this would have been a whole different story

“I’ll be good, sweetheart,”

I fold every damn time! Seriously i do i am a sucker for this version of Eddie you have created his so..so.so protective & he just loves hard and i am a fool for him being this lovesick💗

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed

gaaaaah i am kicking my feet up in the air fuccck fucck fucck i love you too Eddie i am going to start happy crying over here! All of the BS that we had to go through i never thought we would get to moments like these🥰

Okay you dick head one thing is to sit here and i quote

“The bitches here are super hot.”

And now you are crossing the line ! There is no amount of money you can give us to sit on your lap tell us your order and we will be on our way!

SHOOK i am shook thee Billy Hargrove helped us in this situation with these scummy guys?! Wow okay well ill give him his flowers thank you William that was a pleasant surprise👏🏻

“You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed. “Just say you’re sorry.”

Seeing Eddie go HAM for us has me feeling some type of way oh ma gawd i am going feral for him , its hot the way he defends us !

OMG Suzie had her baby ahhhhh what a great way to end this chapter i cant express how much i freaking love this series you have hit it out of the ball park yet again babe!🥹💗

How Eddie had me feeling the entire chapter⬇️💗

I'm on Fire

biker!eddie x fem!artist!reader

Part 17: A creature of love, I can't be tamed

masterlist playlist

18+ONLY, series typical violence, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex with someone other than Eddie and reader, hate-fucking (consensual), oral (m receiving), sexual harassment, biker!steve, biker!billy, protective!eddie, rocker!nancy

word count: 6.4k

songs: I Hate Myself for Loving You by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, Wild Child by W.A.S.P. and Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative

The second half of your first night back at the Velvet Hammer heats up with Eddie on stage, Charlene on the premises with Billy, and Steve working through his emotions in a moment of carnal desire.

authors note: It has felt so good to get back to writing this story, I missed our biker boys so much. It will probably be another week or two until the next part, but you won't have to wait too long. Thank you for your patience, I love you.

There came the sound of shrill feedback from the stage, and the drummer twisted his stick around his fingers before clapping the high hat. You took your break and met Eddie over by the carpeted hallway. The two of you huddled together, out of view from the front half of the bar, including Charlene and Billy.

“What’s Steve going to do?” You hushed, feeling the familiar anxiety rise inside of you that someone might get hurt again.

“Nothing for now,” Eddie exhaled. You put your hand on his chest, and he held it there. “You let me worry about Steve and Charlene, you have enough to do. I won’t let anything go sideways in here tonight.”

You told him about what you’d just learned from Shana, about Charlene being part owner of the Velvet Hammer, and he gave a slow blink, dragging out a long, ragged breath. “Why does that not surprise me,” you could almost hear the wheels in his brain turning. “She can’t have this place, it’s ours,” he growled, walking you down the hall and clanking open the heavy metal back door to the alley.

“But,” you started. Eddie pulled a pack of smokes out of his front pocket and sparked a flame from his zippo to light the end. “Isn’t it too late for that? It sounds like she already took it?”

You held two fingers like you were making a peace sign for Eddie to pass you a smoke and he raised his eyebrow at you curiously. You gave a nod, answering his unspoken question, and he put a second one between his lips to light it for you before passing it over.

You took a tiny drag and coughed smoke out of your nose at first, but then the second inhale was smoother. Thanks to so many nights at the Hammer, your throat and lungs were sufficiently coated with tar and ready for the challenge.

The other owner of the Hammer was a well known real estate investor and builder named Murray Bauman, and he was a friend of the MC. They’d done several “jobs” for him over the years that were clean by MC standards, but dirty enough to ruin his reputation if they came to light. Murray was also notoriously unfriendly with the Gregson’s, and Eddie wondered how much Charlene had paid, and what kind of scandal she’d dug up on Stephen, to make him give up his share like that.

Eddie tilted his head back, exposing his throat, to take a long, thoughtful drag, looking up at the clear sky that was blinking full of stars. “I wish I could go back in time before I ever met Charlene, and avoid her at all costs.”

“I don’t know,” you looked down and kicked the heel of your shoe against your toe. “She’s awfully determined. I think she would’ve found you anyway. Plus, I don’t think it’s you she wants anymore.”

“I feel responsible though,” Eddie muttered, blowing smoke out through tight lips. “For everything that’s happened to the people around me because of her.”

The sound of Nancy saying something into the mic, followed by the crowd cheering, came muffled through the door, and you really wanted to change the subject, to pull him out of his dark thoughts. “I’d love to see you play tonight,” you told him right before both of your cherries glowed orange at the same time in the dark.

“I don’t have my guitar here,” he stated the obvious, sucking his tongue on the roof on a sharp inhale, angling his head back to blow smoke up while keeping his eyes on you. “But I might sing one or two with her. Just for you.”

“You can sing too?” Your eyes got wide like a little kid watching the twinkling lights on a Christmas tree.

“Hi, baby, have we met?” He scoffed, slipping his bottom lip through his teeth to repress a grin, and then he winked at you and smashed his smoke on the brick wall before throwing it in the dumpster. He caught you by the hips and pulled you flush to him. “I mean, I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

—--------

Back on his stool, Steve rolled a toothpick between his lips while he scanned the crowd, and did his best not to look over at Billy and Charlene. He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more; the fact that she had the nerve to show up after everything, or that she was there with Billy.

The crew from Lucifer’s Own were known for doing the dirty deeds no other MC would touch. They ran a high-end escort service on the outskirts of town, and did a lot of blow and opiate smuggling over the border. It was also a front for an underground fighting ring that was dirty and rigged, and sometimes, the fools who participated ended up with broken bones, or had their lights turned out completely.

Billy Hargrove and Steve went way back, and they’d actually been friendly acquaintances for a while back in high school, until Billy had pursued a girl Steve liked at the time just to piss him off. Also, to prove to Steve that he could take whoever he wanted. “Nothing wrong with a little competition, right, Harrington?” Is that what this was? Was Billy escorting Charlene around just to rub it in Steve’s face?

“Yeah, well, you can have her,” Steve mumbled to himself under his breath, thoughts racing so fast that he was starting to talk to himself, head bent to work the end of the toothpick with his fingers. “Good luck with that one, buddy, you’ll need it.”

There was more feedback from the speakers. “Hey there Hawkins, who is ready to rock?” Nancy purred into the microphone, one hand gripping the fretboard of her guitar before she slung the strap around her body. People shouted and cheered, and there were a few high-pitched whistles of encouragement.

The bassist with the band looked like a younger version of Eddie, but with a mane of black hair that was thick with tight curls, and the drummer had a black goatee and long, straight hair way past his shoulders. The backup guitarist looked like he was cut right out of the James Hetfeild playbook.

“We’re gonna start out with a little something familiar to get y’all warmed up,” Nancy said into the mic. “This one is called I Hate Myself for Loving You.”

The crowd roared, pounding their fists on the tables. Nancy said a countdown before she began a slow clap to the beat and the drums kicked in, deep bass vibrating in the walls.

When Steve looked up, he saw Charlene making her way across the room, either for the payphone or the restrooms, and Steve straightened up, wondering if he should say something to her. He went up to the bar and patted Thumper on his broad back, asking him to watch the door for a few minutes. Thumper was three beers and several shots in, but was not yet showing any signs of inebriation. He fisted a handful of his graying beard and told Steve it was no problem.

“Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you?

You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two

I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you…”

He followed but he hung back, hiding in the crowd until he saw her go into one of the bathrooms. When you and Eddie came out from the alley, you found Steve leaning against the wall that was heavily papered in band flyers, next to the payphone.

Eddie was walking behind you,his hands firm on your hips, moving his legs in time with yours. You both came to a halt at the sight of Steve, and you had to shove off, back to work, but Eddie took your hand to kiss your knuckles before you walked away.

“Everything cool?” Eddie asked his friend, checking around to make sure no chaos had ensued while he’d been outside with you. There was a huge crowd there, packed in like sardines. All of the tables and bar stools were occupied, and plenty of people were taking advantage of the standing room only, blocking most of the walkways.

“I’m not sure yet, man,” Steve put his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple jutting out. “But I’ll let you know.”

“I called Van and told him to get over here with Devlin,” Eddie let him know. “Just in case more of Lucifer’s Own try to cause trouble.”

Steve only nodded, absently, his eyes twitching to the bathroom door every so often. Eddie clapped Steve a few times on the arm before turning to watch the band as he pushed his way through the crowd. Nancy made her fingers into devil horns in the air at him and Eddie returned the gesture, raising his arm high.

“I think of you every night and day

You took my heart and you took my pride away…”

The crowd was stomping their feet to the rhythm and belting out the chorus. Nancy detached the mic from the stand to make her way across the stage.

The second Steve saw the door open, he took long strides across the hallway to keep Charlene from exiting, pushing her back inside the single-person bathroom. She did not protest as he braced the door and locked it behind him, turning to face her with a tight jaw.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Char?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She hushed it, dropping her gaze as if suddenly she was afraid to look at him. “I missed you.”

“Jesus Christ, Charlene, you need to stop.” He rubbed his hands down his face, exasperated. “I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel, but this needs to end.”

“But what if I don’t want to stop?” She closed in on him, lifting her hands to hold his face, but he blocked the effort, restraining her at the wrists. “What if I want you so bad, it hurts?”

He met her eyes. “You miss me and you thought fucking Billy would be the answer?”

“We’re not fucking, it’s not like that with him. Not like it was with you.” She struggled a little in his grasp just so he would tighten his grip on her.

Steve scoffed. “You mean, not like it was with me and Eddie and your husband and every other dude you’ve spread your legs for in this town?” Steve wasn’t one to judge, not with the amount of pussy he’d run through over the years, but still, showing up with one of his rivals was a low blow.

Charlene slammed forward so that Steve’s back hit the door, her breath hot and urgent on his neck. “No one fills me up like you do. I need your cock to split me open one last time, Stevie, please.”

She sank to her knees, kissing down his chest as she went, and he let her, releasing her wrists so that she could make quick work of unbuttoning his Levi’s. She licked around his balls and nuzzled her face in the hair at the base of his thick shaft, making hungry gasps of need as she did so.

He hissed when the fat head of his cock sank into her mouth. “Juss…just one more time,” he groaned as she lapped him up. She hummed around his length and nodded, looking up at him, agreeing as her lips strained to take the measure of his girth.

“I know you’re angry, Steve,” she flicked her tongue out over the ridge a few times like a poisonous snake about to strike. “I want you to take it out on me.”

He fisted a handful of her hair, tight, so that he controlled the movements of her head, and it made her whimper with pleasure.

—------

The next song Divine Filth sang was an original, a real headbanger that had Nancy growling into the mic and jabbing her devil horn fingers in the air. The bass guitarist’s fingers strummed the keys while the drummer spun his sticks high in the air and caught them. You noticed that a few of the male patrons were choosing to go outside to take a piss, which meant there was another line at the bathrooms again, but you were too busy to go over and check out why.

While Erika was on her break, it was your responsibility to go over and check on Billy, since Jackie was working the other side of the room. Two more of the Coffin Kings had just arrived and Eddie was out in the parking lot having a talk with them, being that it was hard to have a conversation inside with the band playing.

You made your way over to Billy’s table, noticing that Charlene was nowhere to be found. One side of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin while he watched you approach, and you wondered if he knew who you were and who you belonged to. You also wondered if he gave a shit.

As you got closer, you noticed that he had a pronounced scar from his eye to his jaw, and he didn’t have a ton of tattoos like the other boys, but there was the word “mother” above a heart with a dagger through it just under the sleeve of his t-shirt on his bicep and a Lucifer’s Own insignia on his opposite forearm.

He was slouched down a bit in his seat, knees spread wide, voice raised to be heard over the music. “You must be War Machine’s old lady,” he gave you a lift of his chin.

“You are correct,” you said with your best customer service smile.

“Damn,” his hand made a cage around the pack of smokes on the table so he could pull it toward him. His eyes locked onto your face, unwavering. “That son of a bitch always had good taste.”

“If you say so,” you checked over your shoulder, expecting to see Eddie charging over with that dangerous scowl on his face, but he wasn’t inside yet. You cleared your throat. “Can I get you anything else?”

He ordered another beer for himself and a tequila for Charlene, even though you knew she was much more of a wine drinker.

“Just put it on Charlene’s tab,” he said with a wink, alluding to the fact that she was practically your boss now. “But this is for you,” and before you could reach for the 20 dollar bill he had in his hand, he was stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, fingers grazing your bare skin, watching the discomfort wash over your face as he did so.

You turned on your heel without another word, bee-lining back to the bar, when Eddie stepped through the main door so abruptly, you almost crashed into him.

Devlin and Van moved around the two of you while Eddie put one hand on your lower back and the other cupped the back of your neck. “You okay, baby?” He mumbled, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You nodded, but then Eddie looked over in the direction you had just come and saw Billy there, flicking the flame on his lighter and watching the interaction between the two of you. You knew what Eddie was looking at by the way his body tensed. “Did Billy say something to you?”

“I had to wait on his table while Erika was on her break,” you were pulling your boyfriend away as you were talking, practically dragging him back to his seat at the bar. “Nothing happened, I’m fine. I just missed you.”

On stage, Nancy lit into a mean guitar solo.

“You sure?” Eddie’s stare was hard.

“Hey,” you grabbed Eddie’s face, making him look at you. “Baby, can’t you see? He wants to start trouble. Just ignore him. Please, for me.”

“Did he touch you?” His jaw muscles bulged and a dark fell over his brown eyes, making them almost black.

“No baby,” you hummed the lie. Eddie had quite a bit of common sense, more so than Steve when it came to affairs of the heart, but you knew that someone would get hurt if you told him about the way Billy had slid that money into your shorts. You had no doubt that Eddie could handle himself, but you didn’t want there to be any more fighting; everyone had already been through enough. Plus, Billy was not the first guy at the Hammer to overstep, and he wouldn’t be the last. Sadly, that was the nature of the work, you’d come to realize.

Eddie took a breath and lowered his forehead to yours, slotting his fingers around your ears so that his thumbs grazed your cheeks. “I’ll be good, sweetheart,” he promised.

Everyone clapped at the end of the song and then you heard Eddie’s name being said over the speakers.

“We’re lucky enough to have the frontman for Corroded Coffin here with us tonight,” Nancy started. “And he said he might get up here for a song or two. What do you say, Munson?”

The crowd went wild at that suggestion, and some even chanted his last name, punching fists into the air. Nancy motioned him on stage with a few scoops of her fingers.

“I guess I’m doing this,” he said, parting your lips with his tongue for a brief but firm kiss before he made his way to the stage. The James Hetfield guy was already taking off his guitar to hand it to Eddie before he could protest, and they clapped hands together in greeting. Your “old man” was adjusting the strap over his shoulder when he looked out over the sea of heads and caught your eye.

“I love you,” Eddie mouthed, taking the pic off of the chain that he had dangling around his neck.

—-------

Five minutes earlier, Steve had Charlene bent over the sink in the bathroom, jeans low on his hips, yanking her head back by the throat as he jackhammered himself inside of her.

“Tighter,” she whined, and his fingers closed in on her windpipe. He’d pushed her thong to the side and was spitting every so often so that he could watch it slide down her slit and mix with the frothing wet mess of her arousal where his cock sank into her. He didn’t need the saliva to lube his brutal pace, but he liked the idea of spitting on her, it helped him work through his hatred.

“God Steve, you’re so fucking good, fuckkk,” she dragged the last word out as hips clapped onto her with rapid, forceful grunts, making her whole body jerk each time he made contact.

He slowed the pace for a few thrusts so that he could spit again, and then he used his thumb to rub the saliva around the pink hole that tightened at his touch. He’d never been with a woman who had every inch of hair removed like her, she looked like some kind of porn star. He wanted to be in her ass one last time, but it felt too tight and warm where he was. He was close.

He let go of her throat and clutched her hips on either side in a way that would bruise, angling to finish himself off.

“You’re such a fucking whore for my cock,” he bit out. He wished she didn’t feel so fucking good. He wished that his disgust for her didn’t also turn him on in a way that made him uncomfortable.

Charlene’s eyes rolled back in her head, orgasm mounting rapidly as he buried himself base deep to a point where the line between pleasure and pain was blurred. She knew this was a farewell reminder, and it made her cry out his name.

“Fuck Steve, I’m cumming,” a few more pumps and she was exploding around his length, legs shaking at the way the wave crashed over her, making her see white.

“Get on your knees,” Steve told her, his hips stuttering. When she was down in front of him, he jerked himself the rest of the way off onto her outstretched tongue, ropes of cum painting her chin and dripping down to her cleavage. He made her lick the rest of him clean, and then she sucked her fingers.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

“Yeah, hold your fucking horses,” Steve shouted, pulling his jeans up. He helped Charlene get her bodysuit back on and zipped up. He almost kissed her, but then he remembered who she was.

He checked himself in the mirror and slicked his hair back before letting her know she should wait a minute until after he was gone before she followed him out. She was cleaning the mascara that had leaked down her cheeks, and was about to apply more lipstick, when she caught his eyes on her in the reflection.

“What if I told you I had a gift for you?” Her expression was coy.

Steve sighed. “I don’t want anything from you, Char. This was it, I’m done, I mean it.”

She rolled the red lipstick out of its gold tube. “What if it was something that would change your life?”

He thought about that, wetting his lips. “Listen, we’re never gonna fuck again. I don’t care if you buy me a Ferrari.”

“Well, it’s better than a car,” she huffed a small laugh. “Let’s just call it a…parting gift. A way for me to say sorry for everything I put you and Eddie through.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and put his back against the door. “Yeah, well, if this is about to be some grande gesture from you, I’d like to know what the catch is.”

She turned to him, fixing the ends of her hair around her face. “No catch, not this time,” she took a step forward, holding her black clutch in one hand. “Listen, I know it sounds childish and stupid, but I think I…I think I fell in love with you.” She furrowed her brow as if the sentiment didn’t make sense to her, as if she’d never grasped the weight of the words before.

Steve couldn’t help himself, he rolled his eyes and barked a laugh, thoroughly amused.

“I can’t change the past,” she tried to push her chest out, to get her statuesque posture back. “But I can try to make it up to you. To both of you.”

“Yeah?” Steve gave her a bored shrug. “Personally, I think you’re way past the point of redemption.”

“Maybe,” she pressed her lips together and took hold of the door handle. “I guess we’ll see.”

—------

All of your attention was eyes front on Eddie as he leaned over to discuss something with Nancy, lengthening the strap on his guitar as he spoke. You barely noticed someone trying to make their way through the crowd until Steve bumped into your shoulder, making you sway on your feet.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he caught you and helped you find your balance. “I didn’t see you there.”

Steve looked…disheveled, and his face was flushed, as if he’d just run around the block. There were lines in his hair from raking his fingers through it so many times.

“You good?” You called after him, but all he offered was a “thumbs up” over his shoulder.

It was barely a minute before you caught sight of Charlene coming out of the hallway, following in his wake. She had a pink flush to the pale skin of her throat, almost a perfect handprint impression, and your brain was busy putting the pieces together when Nancy got back on the mic.

“This one is called Wild Child,” Nancy started on the guitar and people in the crowd got crazy again. The Hell’s Belle next to you whistled so loud, it almost blew your eardrum out. You weren’t too familiar with the band W.A.S.P. before Eddie, but you knew the song, and waited eagerly to hear his voice as he leaned in, moving his fingers along the strings.

“I ride, I ride the winds that bring the rain

A creature of love, and I can't be tamed

I want you, 'cause I'm gonna take your love from him

And I'll touch your face and hot burning skin

No, he'll never ever touch you like I do…”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he sang the first bit, hair hanging down his shoulders, muscles flexing under the ink that covered his forearms and hands. When his eyes opened, he found you in the crowd, and your heart swelled at the way he cracked a smile around the words at the sight of you.

“So look in my eyes and burn alive, the truth

I'm a wild child, come and love me

I want you…”

God, he was magic up there. He looked like a natural, holding that guitar in his hands, the way his fingers flew deftly to each note.

And he was all yours.

The chorus came and you sang the words, smiling so hard already, your cheeks hurt. You’d never known your eyes to “sparkle” like a cartoon before, but you felt like that’s what they were doing.

“My heart's in exile, I need you to touch me

'Cause I want what you do

I want you”

Someone grabbed your elbow, and you spun around to see who it was.

Jackie had a full tray in her hand, trying to balance it amidst the moving bodies. “Hey, are you on the floor right now? Don’t mean to be a bitch, but I need you. A table full of jarheads just showed up.”

“Oh shit, right,” you’d honestly forgot where you were for a moment, you’d been so caught up in that Munson Magic. You took another glance at the stage, wanting to catch Eddie’s eye, but he was looking down at his hands, concentrating on where they worked the guitar.

The table in your section that Jackie mentioned had seven guys in their mid-twenties sporting that type of “high and tight” haircut that you saw almost exclusively with members of military or law enforcement, and you took a deep breath, because you never knew what the vibe would be for those types of men who visited the Hammer. Either they’d be extremely polite like they just came from church, or they’d be vile and disrespectful.

“What’ll it be tonight, boys?” You asked, sidling up to their table. “Buy one pitcher of draft and get the next half off.”

They all turned to appraise you, not caring that the way their lewd stares locking on your body and tits made you uncomfortable.

“See, I told you,” the dark haired one said to the one in the red and white striped polo shirt. “The bitches here are super hot.”

You gulped, doing your best to restrain from looking as disgusted as you felt while they talked about you like you weren’t even there.

“How much for you to sit in my lap?” One of them asked.

“How much for you to suck me off?” One of them whispered, and the whole table guffawed into the type of laughter that was not warranted for something that was so not funny.

You checked over your shoulder for Steve, and he appeared to be escorting someone out who’d just been cut off. There was a bench outside, and he always had them wait there while he called a member of their family or a taxi to come pick them up. The guy was having a hard time getting his legs to work, and Steve had to practically carry him out.

You glanced up at the stage when the other song ended, and you could tell Eddie was searching for you, and so you stuck your hand up in the air to catch his attention.

“This one is for my girl,” he pushed hair out of his face and the sentiment made you freeze. A goofy grin stretched across your face and you let out an actual giggle. You were very familiar with the opening notes of Cinnamon Girl by Type O Negative.

“So, a pitcher of beer, then?” You asked, distracted, but in a much better mood than you were a few seconds ago. The guys at the table were too busy being crass to decide what they wanted to drink, so you chose for them. They agreed on the pitcher, and ordered a round of shots.

You kept your attention on Eddie as you made your way across the space, and your heart was in your throat at how proud you were to be his. His voice was deep and powerful, and it seemed like no one could pull their eyes away. The air was a bit humid inside, and you could see a sheen of sweat on his skin already glistening, bangs sticking to his forehead. He’d taken off his Coffin Kings cut and shirt, so he was up there in a ribbed, white tank of the Hanes variety, exposing the wash of dark tattoos over his shoulders and arm muscles that bulged from hours upon hours of manual labor.

“I want to live with a cinnamon girl

I could be happy the rest of my life with her

A dreamer of pictures, I run in the night

You see us together, chase the moonlight…”

At the bar, you considered letting Van and Devlin know that there were some guys there who might start trouble now that Steve was distracted, but then you remembered that you were the bad bitch who stabbed Craig in the balls and brought him to his knees—-you could handle a few young douchebags.

You gave Shana the drink order while Eddie’s deep voice bellowed, “my cinnamon girl, my cinnamon girl…” to the collective swooning of the crowd.

You waited on two other couples, lingering in the middle of the room so that you could see Eddie more clearly, dragging your feet before you had to return to the guys with the matching haircuts.

You took a cleansing breath and squared your shoulders before heading back. You tried not to be bothered by the way the dudes checked you out as you put the drinks down. When you were finished, the guy closest to you, with close-set eyes and a thick neck, ran his hand up the back of your leg.

“Hey,” your stare hardened on him and you stepped away, eyebrows pinching together. “No touching.”

The guys all snickered at that, as if it was so funny that they all knew they weren’t supposed to touch the staff, but they still got away with it.

“No he’s sorry, really,” said the tall, skinny one who hadn’t spoken up yet. His face was unreadable, you couldn’t tell if he was being a shitheel or not. The table fell silent for a beat. “But we would really like to know how much it would cost for handjobs, all around. Is there a group price for you girls?”

More idiotic cackling.

You turned to leave them, to go find Steve, to let him know you needed his assistance, but the one with the blonde hair and Limp Bizkit shirt caught you by the arm, digging his fingers in, and yanked you back so that his other hand could roam the curve of your ass. “Just a little feel, baby, we’ll tip good, I promise.”

You pushed him off and were just about to yell for Steve or Thumper when you saw the guy across the round table get his face smashed into the wood, so hard that blood splattered and you could hear the sick crack of breaking bone.

You were surprised to see Billy there, standing behind the one who was clutching his broken nose and wailing. He was smiling, cigarette bobbing between his lips. “I think you bozo’s should apologize to the lady.”

You hadn’t heard the music stop, didn’t realize that the commotion had drawn most of the attention to you.

In a flash, the guy in the Limp Bizkit shirt was ripped from his seat, and there was Eddie, picking him up by the throat to punch him across the face, sending him flying.

The impact made saliva and possibly a tooth go spitting from his mouth and you screamed at the shock of it.

“Eddie look out!” You shouted. The tall one was about to take a cheap shot at Eddie’s ribs while he sank another punch into the guy’s jaw, but you came down with your serving tray as hard as you could and nailed him.

“Holy shit,” Steve cursed when he stuck his head inside to see what the commotion was. Thumper was nowhere to be found, and Steve figured he was taking a piss. Starting brawls inside the Hammer was not protocol. Bouncers were always encouraged to take everything outside, but now it was too late.

“Get her out of here!” you heard Steve’s voice, he was talking to Devlin, and then you were being pulled back by cautious hands, away from the chaos.

One of the jarheads was just about to break a beer glass over Eddie’s head, but Billy showed up out of nowhere and kicked him in the back, sending the asshole flying right into Steve’s awaiting fist. The guy’s body crashed into a table, shattering glasses, and making the other patrons scatter.

“You better leave this one for me, Harrington,” Billy smiled and wiggled his tongue. “Wouldn’t want to mess up that pretty face of yours.”

Billy was helping them, and that was a twist you hadn’t expected. Perhaps it wasn’t so much for them as for himself, since you could tell Billy had been looking for a fight all night.

Steve got one of the other guys in a choke hold and began to drag him outside. Billy made wide eyes at one of the leftover trouble makers and charged after him, making the guy shriek like he was about to pee his pants before running from the building.

While the one Eddie had been punched was babbling at the foot of unconsciousness on the ground, he took hold of the one with the close-set eyes and the thick neck who had rubbed your leg first.

Eddie had been watching, and quick to cut off before the end of the song to jump down from the stage in a blinding rage.

Devlin held you loosely by the arms, but you shook him off, and stood next to Shana and Erika, continuing to keep your distance for the sake of Eddie and Steve’s peace of mind, and wincing each time one of the other dudes took a hard hit from one of the Coffin Kings.

Eddie took the guy by the shirt and sent a punch into his stomach. Mister Thick Neck doubled over but then Eddie took him by the throat and slammed him into the nearest wall. Eddie had his fist winding back for a punch when Steve shouted his name to get his attention.

The rest of the dickheads had been escorted outside by a few Hell’s Belle’s, while the rest of the crowd kept their distance. You saw Charlene in the far corner, touching up her lipstick in a compact mirror, seemingly unphased by it all.

“Not in here,” Steve pleaded with Eddie, breathlessly. “Like you said.”

Eddie’s eyes were black and cold like that of a shark. His mouth trembled with the urge to actually bite into the guy’s face, to mutilate him with his bare teeth and make him beg for mercy.

Eddie banged the guy's body into the brick wall again, locking him there with his forearm. “Apologize to my girl,” he growled.

The buzz cut guy coughed and struggled, having a hard time breathing. “I don’t know who your girl is, man,” he was only able to squeak out a mild protest under the pressure of Eddie’s grip.

“Your waitress,” Eddie hissed through gritted teeth.

The guy against the wall tried to turn his head to look for you, but Eddie squeezed his face. “You don’t get to look at her,” Eddie fumed. “Just say you’re sorry.”

Multiple desperate “sorry’s” followed, and then Eddie told Steve to get the guy’s wallet to take all of the cash out. A quick count said there was about a hundred bucks.

“That’ll be her tip,” Eddie announced, dragging him by the shirt collar to take him outside with the rest.

Turns out, they were from an Army base not too far down the road, and they were all told to empty their wallets of their cash, and Steve made a scene of noting the addresses on their driver’s licenses.

“I have a memory like a steel trap,” Steve lied, pointing to his temple, grabbing the guy in the red and white polo by the side of his neck, getting up in his face. “If you so much as walk by this place ever again, or tell the cops about this, you’ll see me in your nightmares. Now, get the fuck out of here before I call your mommies.”

You sank in next to Eddie’s side just outside the main entrance, and he put his arm around you. “Will things ever calm down around here?” You asked with a heavy sigh, watching the broken group scurry and limp away down the street.

Eddie gave a low laugh and hugged you a bit tighter. “God, I hope so, baby.”

Divine Filth started another song, to try and get things back to normal, and most of the crowd returned to their drinks as if there had not been actual bloodshed just five minutes ago.

No one but Shana heard the phone next to the cash register ring over the sound of the music, but after a few seconds, she shrugged by you and Eddie to stick her head out and scan the sidewalk.

"Steve?" She craned her neck to look for him.

"Yeah, that's me," he came from around the back side of the door, flicking his cigarette, knuckles split and bloody again.

"Some guy named Dustin called," she said, merely passing on a message. "He said Suzie just went into labor."

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Love love you all for cheering this story on, hope you enjoyed this one. Your thoughts and reblogs are appreciated and cherished.

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Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

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darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years ago

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An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

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For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

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Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

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everygildedstar · 4 years ago

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Bible Study (Optional Male Bias)

Summary: He wants to know what could be better than God’s love, and you are happy to enlighten him

Pairing: Optional Bias x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: smut, corruption kink, religious corruption, blasphemy, hand jobs, blow jobs, riding, fem dom, male sub, loss of virginity, sex in a church, semi-public sex, quoting scripture during sex

A/N: It’s been a while since i wrote a smut so i’m rusty, so please be nice. Inspired by a discussion with @bigkpopstan and anon about religious corruption and Heeseung. Heeseung was in mind when I wrote this but it’s technically optional bias so have fun. ;)

“Meet me in the confession booth when everyone leaves for the barbeque,” you had messaged him.

There had been a certain tension between the two of you for a while. He knew you weren’t the innocent “Church Girl” you pretended to be, and you knew he was curious. Curious about what could be so great as to reject what you were taught at church. What could possibly be better than God’s love?

He had asked you as much one day, while you were waiting for your parents to stop socializing so you could go home.

“Because I like what I can understand,” you answered. “I like what makes me feel alive. I like what I can be certain of. And I am certain that there are a great number of things that are more pleasurable to me than church, and worshipping our so-called God while receiving nothing in return.”

“Like what?” he pushed.

“Maybe I could show you sometime,” you had said before walking out with your family.

He hadn’t brought it up to you again for a long time, but you could tell he thought about it. You could see it in his face every time you caught him looking at you, and every time he would look away blushing, as if he had been caught doing something sinful.

Finally he couldn’t take it anymore. He asked you to show him. And that’s how, today, you ended up pulling him into the confession booth in the empty church.

You shut and locked the door behind you, and then there was silence. The tension was so thick, just the sound of your breaths to fill the space, only a small amount of light leaking into the tiny room.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked. “There is no going back. You will only be pretending to be the good church boy. You will be like me,” You reach out and hold his face in one hand and the nape of his neck with the other, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “a sinner.”

You feel him nod. “Use your words.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“And you are not scared?” you ask further.

“No. If it is truly a sin, and should I wish to repent, God is merciful. He will take me back,” he says.

You let out a breathy laugh. “And if you don’t wish to repent?”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. “Then I suppose hell can’t be that bad if you’ll be there, my own beautiful temptress.”

You laughed again. “So much for the good little church boy.”

You leaned in and kissed him. It started out slow and sweet, and you tried to pour every ounce of passion and honey as you can into every movement. He seemed to follow your lead leaning into you so much you were leaning back with him. You bit his lip, and then took his gasp to press your tongue into his mouth. He moans a little, surprised at the intrusion and starts sucking on it.

You slowly move him back until his back hits the wall of the booth, pressing yourself close to his body. You tug his hair while your other hand starts to roam, slowly feeling its way past each dip in his defined chest and abdomen. You hook a finger in his belt loop and use it to pull his hips even further against you, forcing him to break the kiss and let out a moan. You move to kiss his neck, or at least the little bit you could reach with his unbuttoned collar. He moans again, and then again even louder when your hips forward. “What is your favorite scripture?” you ask. “Recite it for me, and don’t stop or I’ll stop.”

“What-” he asks as you unbutton his pants while you attack his neck with your mouth again. He gasps when you pull down his zipper, and then you reach your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, eventually grasping his cock with only the tips of your fingers. He lets out a needy groan, rolling his hips into your touch, but you don’t move any further.

“Recite it, or I’m not going to do anything.”

He takes a second to gather his thoughts enough. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not wa-want.” He stutters when you pull his waistband down and bring his cock out, hissing at the cold air. You give it one stroke, and then stop, waiting for him to continue.

“He maketh me to lie d-down in green pastures-” You start stroking him slowly, rubbing your thumb over his slit once to gather his pre-come. You continue kissing his neck until you find a sweet spot that makes him whimper.

“-he leadeth me be-beside the still waters.” You move faster, pumping lightly with each stroke, while you pull his hair with the hand still resting there.

“He restoreth my s-soul-” His grip on you tightens, hands grabbing fistfulls of the material of your church dress. “-he leadeth me in the p-paths of righteousness for his -ngh- name's sake.”

“Yea, though I wa-alk through the valley of the sha-hadow of death, I will f-fear no evil-” you move your kisses to the other side of his neck, and he throws his head back against the wood of the booth.

“-for thou art with m-me; thy rod and thy s-staff they co-co-comfort me- ” You then get on your knees in front of him, licking the tip of his cock, hand still stroking his length. “-Shit!”

You snicker, giving a long lick up the underside before looking up at him. “Don’t swear when you are reciting scripture, sinner.” -he moans at the nickname- “Keep going.”

He whines again before he continues, voice considerably higher.

“Th-thou preparest a ta-able before me in the pre-esence of mine enemies-” You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking lightly. He lets out a guttural groan.

“-thou anointest m-my head with o-oil-” your hand that isn’t preoccupied with stroking the part of his cock that is not deep in your mouth is making its way under to cup his balls.

“-my cup ru-runneth over.” He muffles a whine with one hand while the other makes its way into your hair.

He pulls his hand away from his mouth to recite the next part. “Surely g-goodness and merc-cy shall follow me all the d-days of my life- ngh!” You are bobbing your mouth farther and farther each time, and he has to refrain from thrusting his cock deeper into your mouth.

“-and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. Fuck, I’m so close-” He finishes his scripture, and you take him as far as you can and swallow, the squeezing of your throat around his cock almost sending him over the edge. You lift your mouth off of him with a pop, and he whines like a hurt puppy. “No- Please- Why?”

You stand back up and turn him, making sit on the seat to your left, before you push your skirt up around your hips and straddle him. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you have all the fun, did you?”

You grip his cock again, rubbing the tip over the wet spot on your panties. Both of you let out a moan together, pressing your foreheads together. His hands fly to your hips, gripping them tightly.

“Are you okay with this?” You ask again before you continue.

He nods, the thin ray of light peeking into the booth in a perfect spot to show the desire in his eyes. “Yes, please. Please let me feel you. I’m not turning back.” He kisses you again, short but passionately. “Ruin me.”

You whine at his words, then you pull your soaked panties to the side and line his cock up with your entrance before you sink down on him, ever so slowly. Deep, long moans come from both of you. You kiss him again when he is fully sheathed inside you.

“Would you like for me to recite my favorite scripture for you?” you ask him, foreheads together while you adjust to his large size. “It was from a woman to her lover, and I feel like it fits the situation nicely.”

He nods, interested. “Enlighten me.”

“My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand.” You start to move agonizingly slowly up and down his length. He buries his face in your neck to muffle his noises and grips your hips even harder, and you were sure you would have bruises in the shape of his hands the next day.

“His head is as the most fine gold; his locks are bushy, and black as a raven.” You tangle your hands into his own hair and he attaches his lips to the side of your neck like you had done to him.

“His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set.” You start to move faster, rolling your hips with each thrust.

“His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers; his lips like lilies, dropping sweet-smelling myrrh.” You feel his hips stutter as he struggles to keep from thrusting up into you.

“His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl-” He loses the fight, and starts jerking his hips up as you sink down, causing him to go way deeper, hitting your sweet spot and making you moan. “-his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires.”

“His legs are as pillars of marble set upon sockets of fine gold; his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.” You take one of his hands from your hips and press it between you against your clit, ripping a whine out of you.

“His mouth is most sweet-“ you move impossibly faster, even with your thighs growing tired. Your combined sounds and heavy breaths resonate within the confined box.

“I’m close- is it ok if I…” He asked. You nod pulling him close, lips hovering only a hair away from his.

“-yea, he is altogether lovely.” You kiss him deeply as you reach your high, hands harshly pulling his hair and gripping his shoulder. The squeezing from your release sent him over the edge, and he pulled your hips flush to his, coating your insides.

As you come down from your orgasms, you finish the scripture. “This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem.”

The two of you sit in silence for a minute, catching your breaths.

“Holy shit-” he says, and you let out a breathy laugh as you pull off of him, both of you wincing at the sensitivity. “I see why you do this now.”

“Are you gonna regret this and never talk to me again?” You ask, standing up and fixing yourself up.

“Hell no.” He puts himself away and zips and buttons his pants. You feel his hands rest on your hips, and you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for another kiss.

“What do we tell our parents if they ask where we’ve been?”

“Tell them we were doing private bible study and shared our favorite verses. And maybe ask if we can see each other more often for “bible study” sessions,” you added before stealing another kiss.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “That’s the only kind of bible study I’ll need from now on. If god is real and merciful, he can forgive me when the day comes. I have the only god I want to believe in right here in my arms.”

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Evermore

Simon Basset x Reader

Words: 2319

Summary: While residing in the same house, Simon and his wife could not be further apart. His resistance to love may cost him the only thing he holds dear while he can merely stand and watch it fade.

Notes: I love Simon waaaaaaay too much. I have been dying to write for him, so please please let me know what you think!

More period dramas: HERE

I never needed anybody in my life

I learned the truth too late

From this spot, he had a view of the entire garden. He watched as you strolled between the flowers, pausing occasionally to smell a particular bloom. You used to walk together, but now, he could hardly bear to even look at the gardens. Seeing you there sent a feeling through his heart that he could not rid himself of. It was better this way. The happiness that you had felt in your first few months of marriage was an illusion. Simon knew that he could never truly make you happy, no matter how badly he wanted to. Still, these days of silence ate at his soul.

You felt his gaze upon you before you spotted him in a second-story window. Looking up from the rose in your hand, you held his stare with your own, as if daring him to come out from behind his closed doors. This was the first time you’d seen your husband in two days and even when you had seen each other, it was in passing, shrouded in bitter quiet.

You looked away first, dropping your flower and storming back into the house with renewed frustration. From the corner of your eye, you could see him vanish from the window, probably to disappear into his office for yet another day of avoidance. Through your anger, your heart ached. He never explained his sudden hatred towards you. One night, he simply stopped speaking to you. When you confronted him, he’d shouted and shut himself away in his room. No word between you had been uttered since.

To fill your lonely hours, you walked the length of the house. Clyvedon was a beautiful estate and offered at least some distraction from your empty heart. This time, however, your usual path was interrupted.

“Your grace,” You greeted coolly. It was odd to see him in this part of the house, so far away from his usual fortress. He rarely left his office anymore. “I must say, I am surprised to see you away from your desk. You have been married to your work recently.” You put as much venom into your words as you could muster. For a moment, you thought you saw him flinch.

“Y/N, I understand you are uncomfortable with our current situation-”

“Uncomfortable?” You exclaimed furiously. “You think that I am uncomfortable? This is not an ill fitting dress or-or a pebble in my shoe. I saw you in that window and I couldn’t breathe. Even now, it feels like my heart is trying to leap out of my chest and give itself to you, for maybe that will finally be enough for you.” His eyes shifted to the window, desperately trying to escape your hateful stare.

“You are more than enough for me-”

“Then tell me, your Grace,” You spat, “why you can’t even bring yourself to look at me!” You had raised your voice beyond what was proper, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to see the anguish that this forced solitude was bringing you. “Explain to me how we can be making love one morning and by that afternoon, you can hardly utter a word to me. Look at me, Simon! For God’s sake just look at me.”

Whatever his reasoning for coming to you was lost to him now. He could only hear the anger and frustration in your voice. The hatred you must hold for him. While his eyes finally found yours, it felt as though he was looking past you.

“I presume you will be eating in your quarters again.” Was all he said. The return of his indifference was the final straw for you. Having had enough, you charged off to find the furthest place in the house away from him. Simon watched you go in quiet agony, cursing himself for being unable to shut out his affection for you. He told himself again that this was how it must be. If only that was enough.

Wasting in my lonely tower

Waiting by an open door

He wasn’t sure how late it was, but his eyes were starting to burn from staring at documents all night. He could hardly keep them open. Setting his work aside, he ran a hand down his face, trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, and slowly dimmed his lamp until the light was gone. When he looked up, he found you standing in the doorway, shrouded in shadow. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you looked like a spirit in your white nightgown and tear stained face.

“Why are you not in bed?” He questioned, only half awake himself.

“I came to…” The words caught in your throat, making them sound garbled and broken. You stepped into the moonlight and composed yourself. “I came to say goodbye.” Simon froze.

“What?”

“I have arranged for a carriage to take me back to London at dawn.” You stared blankly at him, your face sunken and despaired. He hadn’t realized the depths of the misery he had caused you until now. “My presence is clearly unwanted and I feel that we may live our lives more peacefully apart.”

“I see you’ve already made up your mind on the matter.” Simon scoffed, the pain your words inflicted fueling anger. You didn’t reply. Instead, you turned and started back down the dark hallway to your quarters. He caught your arm before you got too far. “You cannot just leave.”

“I see no reason to stay, your grace.”

“You are my wife.” He growled. Finally, your sullen exterior broke away to reveal the anger burning inside of your chest, threatening to swallow you.

“Am I?” You jerked your arm away, stumbling backwards in the dark. “Because these past few days I’ve felt like a stranger, wandering these beautiful halls, looking for something in them to keep me here. There is nothing but emptiness and grief and pain and I cannot-”

He placed a hand on your cheek, your words halting on your tongue. You stepped closer into his touch, a touch that you had been aching to feel for days. Simon dipped his head down, bringing your lips slowly to his own.

His movements were fast and urgent, his lips moving against yours like he depended on you for breath. You felt the familiar feeling rush over you. It was the intense feeling you’d felt so many times at the beginning of your marriage, one you had feared you’d never feel again. But it wasn’t enough.

“Simon, wait.” You pushed back, trying to find anything in his eyes that could explain to you why he’d been acting so distant. “Talk to me, my love.”

He tried. He wanted so desperately to be able to share with you his fears, but every time he opened his mouth he felt like that stuttering little boy again. Your gaze pleaded with him.

“Please, say something.” Still no response. You pulled out of his grasp forcefully, that feeling fleeing just as quickly as it had come. “Tomorrow, I am leaving for London. At least there I will not be reminded how little I must mean to you.”

You gave him no chance to reply, vanishing into the dark night while he furiously went back into his office, knocking almost every paper off his desk. Simon craved to follow you back to your quarters and show you what you really meant to him, but his feelings didn’t matter. You were miserable and it was his doing.

Still, the idea of being away from you, the feeling of abandonment sunk into him like sharp claws. It was dark and grim and kept him awake, pacing back and forth in the confines of his office. That night, he did not get a moment’s rest.

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

It’s more than I can bear

Days passed, each one quieter and darker than the last. You were gone. He had watched your carriage leave from his window, solemn and alone. Each day he waited. He waited to hear the rattling of the carriage, the pounding of the horse’s hooves. He left the door to his office open as if he expected you to walk in like nothing had happened. In fact, he hardly left his office at all in hopes that his waiting would conjure you somehow.

It was the fifth day of your absences when he received the letter. Lady Danbury started by inquiring as to why his wife was in London unaccompanied, but it was the end of the letter that sent an icy fear through his blood. You had fallen ill and had doctors in and out of the house for the last two days. While she did not know the severity of your illness she had heard that you had been bed ridden and unable to take any visitors. She feared the worst.

Simon didn’t waste a second readying his horse and taking off towards the city. It didn’t matter how many hours the ride took, he went on without stopping. His horse sped through the city, having little care for the foot traffic around him. Hastings house stretched ominously over him, adding to the dread filling his chest. He didn’t wait for a servant to open the door, he didn’t wait to be shown to your room. He ran through the halls like a mad man only to find your quarters empty.

“Your Grace?” Your lady's maid gasped, nearly dropping the bundle of fabrics she was carrying. “I-I thought you were staying in-”

“Where is she?” He barked, making her jump. He didn’t mean to frighten the poor girl, but he did not have the patients for explanation.

“S-she’s having tea with Lady Danbury in the drawing room.” The girl squeaked. His confusion was quickly replaced by rage and he stormed into the drawing room, Lady’s Danbury’s letter crumpled in his fist. Your eyes widened at the sight of your husband, sweating and disheveled.

“Simon, what are you-”

“Your Grace, how wonderful for you to join us.” Lady Danbury smiled triumphantly.

“Is this meant to be some kind of cruel joke to you?” He snapped viciously. You’d never seen him this way before and, frankly, it frightened you. Lady Danbury didn’t seem phased. “My life is not a game for you to meddle in!”

“Someone had to show you how much you stand to lose, your Grace.” She said, keeping incredibly calm under the circumstances.

“How dare you.” Simon was seething. “You wretched woman-”

“Simon!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your seat. “A word, your Grace.” You opened the door to the garden and waited outside for him to join you.

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Simon glared. Lady Danbury stood and walked past him with enviable elegance.

“Don’t lose her, your Grace. Not when she’s finally made you believe in love.” She left without further comment.

Simon finally walked out and you resisted the urge to slap him. Your fists were balled at your sides and you were walking furiously back and forth on the path.

“How dare you come here and speak to my guest in such a manner.” You wanted to scream and cry and kiss him all at once. “What on earth are you doing here, anyway?”

“Lady Danbury sent me a lie in order to get me to come here.” He finally let the exhaustion of his ride rush over him and he leaned against the wall.

“And what lie could have been so great to get you to leave your office?” You scoffed. Simon’s face softened.

“She said that you were ill.” He said quietly, his voice betraying the truth. For those few hours before he arrived were the most terrifying he’d ever experienced. “I thought that… I was afraid I would lose you.”

“You haven’t seemed that concerned these past weeks.” You muttered in irritation. Simon’s face fell.

“Do you really believe that?” He asked with such pain in his voice it nearly broke your heart. “That I am not concerned for your well being? That I do not care if you are hurt or-or sick?”

“What else am I to believe, Simon?” You said, exasperated and exhausted with his constantly shifting moods towards you. “You avoid me at all costs when I am with you, you have suspended any affection towards me, and now you tell me that you came all this way because you thought I was ill? I don’t understand you, your grace, I truly don’t.”

“Everything I have done has been for your benefit.” He stepped towards you. “My affection towards you runs deeper than I could possibly explain and that is why I cannot condemn you to a life cast into my darkness.” His eyes did not look through you now. Rather, they pierced down to your very soul. You stood in shock, trying to find the right words to convey your true feelings.

“Simon…” You gasped, laying a hand on his chest to feel his racing heartbeat. “You are not a shadow. You are the moon. Yes, you have darkness. Yes there are parts of you that I do not yet understand, but that does not mean I do not wish to know you. You are the guiding light in my darkest nights. You are my husband and I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around him and brought his lips to yours. It was like your first kiss, hesitant at first, but soon evolved with passion and need. Simon cupped your face in his hands and vowed.

“I will not hide my love from you again. I will cherish you the way you are meant to be. And I will remind you how dear you are to me every moment I can.” He brushed a joyous tear from your cheek. “For evermore.”

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#regé jean page #simon basset x reader #simon basset #Bridgerton #bridgerton imagines #period dramas #evermore

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edenmemes · 4 years ago

Text

misc poetry sentence starters

❝ one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people. ❞ ❝ you remind me what love lives in this skin. ❞ ❝ you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream. ❞ ❝ i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible. ❞ ❝ the world was made so we can find each other in it. ❞ ❝ the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer. ❞ ❝ i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you. ❞ ❝ is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you? ❞ ❝ against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness. ❞ ❝ the world grows green again when you smile. ❞ ❝ your share of pains would fill a sea. ❞ ❝ i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people. ❞ ❝ what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute. ❞ ❝ i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling. ❞ ❝ the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure. ❞ ❝ you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that. ❞ ❝ i did violence to my own heart. ❞ ❝ i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth. ❞ ❝ like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages. ❞ ❝ and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue. ❞ ❝ you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry. only the sun has come this close, only the sun. ❞ ❝ sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined. ❞ ❝ when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours? ❞ ❝ i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know. ❞ ❝ i had it all and i want it back again. ❞ ❝ i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual. ❞ ❝ we are two reflections that cross swords with each other. ❞ ❝ as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off. ❞ ❝ do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better? ❞ ❝ my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame. ❞ ❝ i am three oceans away from my soul. ❞ ❝ you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me. ❞ ❝ i went to sleep last night so i could see you. ❞ ❝ even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods. ❞ ❝ how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder? ❞ ❝ it does me no good to be good to me now. ❞ ❝ i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me. ❞ ❝ i must clothe myself in other worlds. ❞ ❝ suffering is the privilege of those who feel. ❞ ❝ sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine. ❞ ❝ the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything. ❞ ❝ i can be bold, because i have you with me always. ❞ ❝ you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind. ❞ ❝ not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree, grow for ages, not hurt anyone. ❞ ❝ i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted. ❞ ❝ you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed. ❞ ❝ there’s something electric in your blood. ❞ ❝ you say you are broken, but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light. ❞ ❝ time doesn’t obey our commands. ❞ ❝ i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy. ❞ ❝ to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked. ❞ ❝ i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite. ❞ ❝ and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back. ❞ ❝ i am less a god now that you’ve touched me. ❞ ❝ your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart. ❞ ❝ you said i killed you --- haunt me then. ❞ ❝ your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like. ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it. ❞ ❝ strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty. ❞ ❝ you will hear thunder and remember me. ❞ ❝ ever think it’s possible for us to be happy? ❞ ❝ and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you. ❞ ❝ since we’re bound to be something, why not together? ❞ ❝ i am ashes were once i was fire. ❞ ❝ this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours. ❞ ❝ it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness. ❞ ❝ kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark. ❞ ❝ i have thought of you often since the darkness. ❞ ❝ with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant. ❞ ❝ there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash. ❞ ❝ open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am. ❞ ❝ what the hell is tragedy? i am. ❞ ❝ i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind. ❞ ❝ how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break. ❞ ❝ so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again. ❞ ❝ i am myself. that is not enough. ❞ ❝ i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness. ❞ ❝ my power, which to me is still a curse --- ❞ ❝ ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart. ❞ ❝ do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light? ❞ ❝ i like you; your eyes are full of language. ❞ ❝ let me tell you what i do know. i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good. ❞ ❝ you are the cause and the cure --- both. ❞ ❝ i have kisses for the back of your neck. ❞ ❝ your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel. ❞ ❝ we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn. ❞ ❝ suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys. ❞ ❝ lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer. ❞ ❝ and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness. ❞ ❝ since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark. ❞ ❝ i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still. ❞ ❝ you move like the moon. ❞ ❝ my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears. ❞ ❝ in your eyes, the fires of twilight. ❞ ❝ do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you. ❞ ❝ i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood. ❞ ❝ you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one. ❞ ❝ you are not real. you are a dream of a dream. ❞ ❝ there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you. ❞ ❝ i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature. ❞ ❝ come this evening --- i am eager for stars. ❞ ❝ i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name. ❞ ❝ i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming. ❞ ❝ to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive. ❞ ❝ i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised. ❞ ❝ it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger. ❞ ❝ i live --- but i’m mutilated. ❞ ❝ if there is a light then i am going to swallow it. if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry. ❞ ❝ i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other. ❞ ❝ you will open your wounds and make them a garden. ❞ ❝ i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt. ❞ ❝ i planted roses, but without you they were thorns. ❞ ❝ everything inside me is in revolt. ❞ ❝ how this darkness soaks me through and through. ❞ ❝ give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me. ❞ ❝ say something dangerous like i love you. ❞ ❝ listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life? ❞ ❝ in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love. ❞ ❝ breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you. ❞ ❝ my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides. ❞ ❝ you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts. ❞ ❝ gods are stubborn. so am i. ❞ ❝ is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured? ❞ ❝ there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting. ❞ ❝ beware. beware. there is a tenderness. ❞ ❝ half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood. ❞ ❝ i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me. ❞ ❝ you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth. ❞ ❝ i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places. ❞ ❝ my mouth still houses century-old magic. in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god. ❞ ❝ keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. ❞ ❝ i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry. ❞ ❝ this skin is sick with loneliness. ❞ ❝ memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me. ❞ ❝ i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most. ❞ ❝ after fury, what do you do with the remains? ❞ ❝ come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it. ❞ ❝ let’s admit, without apology, what we do together. ❞ ❝ try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it. ❞ ❝ it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations. ❞ ❝ i am too full of life to be half-loved. ❞ ❝ today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling. ❞ ❝ there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love. ❞ ❝ heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile. ❞ ❝ my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell. ❞ ❝ will you see the human in my being? ❞ ❝ if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever. ❞ ❝ part broken part whole, you begin again. ❞ ❝ i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you. ❞ ❝ i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness? ❞ ❝ whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you. ❞ ❝ i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine. ❞ ❝ i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is. ❞ ❝ i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i. ❞ ❝ do i not live? badly, i know, but i live. ❞ ❝ something of you stuck with me. a splinter. ❞ ❝ i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos. ❞ ❝ sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will. ❞ ❝ my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me. ❞ ❝ i had an old wound once, but it is healing. ❞ ❝ always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that... ❞ ❝ when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you. ❞ ❝ dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul. ❞ ❝ am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person? ❞ ❝ i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins. ❞ ❝ sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet. ❞

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #long post for ts /#ill most likely add some more soon <3

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smoochi-modest · 3 years ago

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✿ [ Wilted ] ✿

—> Genshin Impact - [ Xiao x Reader ]

—> [ Fem! Reader. Blood. Gore. Character death. Fluff into angst, with a rather bitter ending. ]

—> Description - [ It all started with a promise, and now here you were. It seems Xiao will never escape his karma, he thought. The hope you once gave him began to escape within his tears. ]

—> Note - [ 2,231 words - I hope you enjoy;; it'll be one of the few times I write angst, I can't bring myself to hurt him more. ]

" Xiao... you're immortal right? "

Head rested peacefully on the adepti's shoulder, you couldn't help but smile fondly towards the boys face. Xiao had been staring back at you for quite some time now, you were unsure why but you hadn't been bothered to ask. Feeling safe under his watchful eye.

" I am still able to die, just not by time. " Xiao said firmly to you in response, his normally sharp glare found itself to soften the moment you lock eye contact. A feeling of nostalgia bubbled beneath the surface of his skin.

"Mm... That's no good, that means you'll have to die in pain. Right?"

He was taken back by your words for a moment, a frown creeping onto his features. Brows furrow while listening to you patiently. He opened his mouth, only to shut it once more for you to continue.

"I mean... You're already going through enough pain as it is."

He was. And he knew it hurt not only him, but you as well.

"Will you be alright when I'm gone...?"

No. He wanted to say oh so desperately. Closing his eyes, Xiao leaned his head to the side, nuzzling on top of your own while he whispered gently.

" Please do not utter such words. "

Then there was silence, within the heavy atmosphere there was clearly something plaguing your thoughts. He feared it would trap you in a world similar to his own, a place full of pain and self doubt.

" . . . "

" I am an adepti, not a child. "

" . . . "

Yet again more silence, that is... until you shot up from your seated position, knocking your heads together on accident while whining in the process. You lifted a hand to your head, muttering small curses. But now wasn't the time for that! Brushing off the complaints, you make light of the situation. A new idea found it's way in that pretty head of yours, as he stared at you rather irritated by the sudden bash of skulls through your unexpected excitement.

" Wait! I got it! " You seem to beam, " I'll just reincarnate as soon as I am dead! Then I could embrace you just like this, all over again! "

Xiao scoffed, looking to the ground as a sudden warmth found its way across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. A rose red hue, adorning his face.

" Reincarnation doesn't work like that, you have no say in how long it takes for you to return. "

This seemed to make you pout, sitting yourself back down, you take his hands in your own. The sudden connection, brought him to lift his head slightly to have a glance at your expression. Your fingers intertwining with his.

" Fine then! Just watch me, Xiao. I'll prove you wrong. "

"I'll even promise you!"

That day was forever imprinted in the back of his mind, staring down solemnly at your gravestone. He couldn't remember the last time he felt your touch, oh how he craved to feel it again. Wishing to go back in time, and replay everything all over again.

Xiao missed the way you'd hold his hands ever so delicately, bringing each knuckle to your soft lips. With each kiss, came so much unfamiliar warmth. He wishes he could have told you just how special you were to him, but now it was too late.

You were always the one to nurture his hands, the way you'd caress them with your thumb- leaving tingles behind. You'd claim time and time again, that those hands weren't only used for bloodshed. But for love as well.

His hands let him eat Almond tofu, grasp onto your face while peppering you with soft love pecks. He can almost hear you giggles still, whenever you'd try to push him away out of embarrassment.

Now he awaited for your promise to come true... he's waited nearly a decade now, or had it been more? Visiting your grave whenever he had the time, he treated your gravestone like it had truly been you. Leaving flowers behind, all different colours. Some white camellia, all the way to some dandelion he picked from the ground during his travels.

Ever since that day, the fateful day of your demise- Xiaos life fell into shambles. Feeling tears swell up beneath his mask each day as he slaughtered all his inner demons, along with many threats that came too close to the city of Liyue. His life didn't feel the same, forgetting what he had done on a regular biases without you by his side. So much pressure weighed at his faltering heart. A pressure that almost made him feel equal pain to his karmic debt.

He longed for a day to come where he could have worn the mask and danced with you in his arms — not to conquer demons, but to the tune of that flute amid a sea of flowers he heard once before, long ago. Before he had met you.

The once glittering sun found itself to rest behind the ocean's view, darkness consuming your gravestone and him along with it. Allowing the moon to grace Xiao with it's knowing call, a sign of more pain to come, a call reminding him of his duty that he must serve for the rest of his lifetime. He bid your grave a farewell after adjusting some of the fallen flowers.

Everything around him seemed to be void of any sound, slashing away at potential threats in his path. Piercing monsters abdomens like it were a kabob, before ripping his weapon of choice out in swift motion, allowing blood to spill out of the inhumane creature. Spinning his jade-winged spear to rid of any remaining traces of blood or guts, the ground had been painted in the horrifying colour which you seemed adore. A rose red.

There had been very few times where Xiao was caught off guard, however it was during this onslaught that something abnormal began to sprout like a rose bud. A harsh force knocked him off his feet, collapsing to the ground as he winced in pain. A weight then followed, hovering over him as a small hand grasped his throat. Choking on his breath, his piercing gold eyes widen at the sight ahead of him.

There sat a young girl, resembling his fallen lover. He couldn't allow this inconvenience to halt him from his duty, yet Xiaos mind began to churn still. Ripping the mystery girls hand off his throat, he kicked her off of himself. Quickly standing back up, in a more defensive position.

The two opposing figures stare at each other with undecipherable expression. Both wearing their own masks. His of an Oni, hers of a butterfly. The broken mask only covered the top left half of her face, and he prayed his eye's were playing tricks on him. A familiar colour of messy hair, lips coated in blood as it appears she had previously bitten herself while taking the impact of his kick. But what really through him off was that single eye. An eye that resembles your exact image. But why here? surely this couldn't have been you, he pleaded for it not to have been you.

" Wait! I got it! " You seem to beam, " I'll just reincarnate as soon as I am dead! Then I could embrace you just like this, all over again! "

" Fine then! Just watch me, Xiao. I'll prove you wrong. "

Feeling a sudden rush of pain course through his veins, Xiao stumbled backwards. Clutching onto his mask, desperately trying to snap himself back into reality. A low growl seems to rumble from his throat as he gasps, picking up his lowered head, the girl had yet to approach him.

After one more glance, the adeptus made up in his mind that it must have been you. The way those now empty eyes pierce into his tainted and damaged soul. It sent shivers down his spine, a feeling he had been unfamiliar with. Was this fear? He had no idea. Afraid that this was the fate you two had met, was this his karmic debt returning to torture him in every possible way?

Xiao could understand why he was brought back into his world of inner demons, but why... why were you here? you didn't do anything to deserve this. The girl he once knew, wished to live a happy life, one full of flowers and pillow talks. All that innocence, silly promises that seemed to make his heart flutter all came crashing down.

Fighting through the pain, he got back into a protective stance. You noticing his caution, slowly approach him. This caught him off guard, and that was his first mistake. Allowing your expression alone to throw him off. A single tear seemed to stray down your cheek, lunging forward at him with impressive speed. He lifts the shaft of his spear ahead of himself, protecting himself from the blade you pulled out from your hip. Deflecting it and jumping back, it was clear the boy had no interest in harming you.

" If you are who I believe, please listen to the words I say- argh! " Another sharp pain shot in the back of his head, interrupting his futile attempt to have a conversation with the reborn you. Xiao was unable to accept the fact you had become something so opposing to the angel you once were. Old memories of you smiling in his direction ate at his rotting sanity.

He knew this had to be you, a you that Xiao wished he didn't have to see. Your figure was covered head to toe in blood, hair knotted as you seemed to huff out shallow breaths. It was clear your body had been worn out from whatever you previously were doing.

" Please, you made a promise to embrace me once again. So why are you standing so far away, don't you remember?! "

His normally calm nature seemed to crack, a voice unbearable to hear. The way it would crack mid sentence, he was at a breaking point. Not wanting to harm his love.

The silence between the two of you felt like hell, air so heavy he could hardly breathe.

Xiao knows all too well, he had the upper hand in a one on one fight with you, but harming you was the last thing on his mind. Pleading once again, realizing his voice didn't seem to reach you at all.

He missed those small talks.

The screams all sound the same.

After another moment of silence and hesitance, you crouched down. Fingers tracing the ground without removing you gaze from his. He asked for your gentle stare to return, the way you look at him now with such emptiness- it truly hurt.

Its the old voice in his head that held him back.

Realizing what you had been attempting to do, it was his time to lunge forward. Pushing you away from the graphic pile of your now comrades bodies.

Xiao managed to gain a firm grip on your wrists in a single hand, while you were trapped beneath him. You squirm, thrash and scream in a desperate attempt to escape. Each shout felt like a knife had been plunged deep into his heart.

He hated to see you like this, the mask once keeping his face hidden found itself to dissolve in thin air, allowing you to see his saddened expression. Brows furrowed, tears streaming down his once expressionless face, his body began to quiver knowing what he had to do for this all to end.

"Will you be alright when I'm gone...?"

His unoccupied hand reached for his spear. Lifting it up above your form beneath him. He wanted this to be quick, a painless death... but that pain would only transfer back to him. Know that the hands you once adored, would be your own bitter end.

" How are your hands so soft, Xiao?? smooth~" You coed " I could touch them forever... " You brought his hand up to nuzzle your cheek into its warmth. Your smile always felt contagious, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as well.

Pitiful hiccups erupt from the boy, unsure how to handle the flood of emotions.

After a while, your struggle seemed to end. Not realizing what he had done. The ear piercing scream you let out, went unheard by the boy who was so focused on old memories, his head pounding. Opening his eyes, they widen in shock.

There you were, blood spilling from your chest as his eyes focus on the weapon now dug deep within your chest where your heart was.

The same weapon he used to slay evil, the weapon he used to protect you with a long time ago. Now, the weapon that he coated in your blood.

A sudden sense of distraught met the boy, crying out for you only to hear his own echoes. Still sat on top of you, he removes the weapon. Throwing it to the side as he clutches your body close to his own.

Blood and tears merge together.

Embracing you just how you promised, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his hand to hold your head against his shoulder, nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck. Your blood painted his torso, staining his clothes.

You used to adore hearing his heartbeat on late nights like this... oh how he wished he could hear yours in this moment too.

#genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin x you #Xiao x reader #genshin xiao #genshin impact angst #Genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #Angst #smoochi modest

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fawnandshadows · 3 years ago

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After the Ceremony - Chapter 4

Hello Everyone! I am so excited to share Chapter 4 with you guys. I am so appreciative of all of the love I've received from the first three chapter, and I want you guys to know that I have chapter 5 written! Chapter 5 is officially the last chapter, and it will be out next week. This fic is also available on AO3.

I hope you guys enjoy xoxo

Summary: Elain and Azriel after Nesta and Cassian’s Mating Ceremony.

Words: 3,550

Story Rating: M

Elain was flustered all through breakfast. There was a burning between her thighs, and from the way everyone was studiously avoiding her gaze, she knew that everyone was aware of it. That they could scent it. Elain would have been absolutely mortified if she wasn’t so focused on not throwing herself at Azriel, who was seated as far away from her as possible. He was on the opposite end of the table, sitting across from Nesta, and Elain wanted nothing more than to peel herself out of her dress and feel Azriel’s skin on her - to feel Azriel as he pushed into her warm heat and filled her until she -

“Elain,” Nesta said from two seats over, breaking Elain out of her very vivid daydream. “Would you ever consider training with us? Cass and I talked it over and we thought it might be a good idea.”

Elain leaned over Cassian's hulking form, which was shoveling eggs into his mouth, to look at Nesta. Her sister looked radiant, way too radiant for someone who spent the night making love to her newly mated male, in fact they both looked suspiciously well rested, and not at all as restless as Elain felt. She felt like an electric current was coursing through her veins and the only thing that could soothe it was a certain shadowsinger who was pointedly ignoring her. Elain meant to respond to her sister, but her eyes drifted back to the male sitting across from her. She noticed how his arms flex, just a little, as they brought a cup of water up to his lips, and Elain thought about how his naked arms would look as he took her on the table, one hand under her knee and the other fisted in her hair, pulling just a little as he thrust -

Azriel choked on his water. His wide eyes with surprise as they met hers, and he looked flustered. The scary spymaster and shadowsinger, looked at her with an open jaw, bright red cheeks, and water dribbling down his chin.

The ache at her core throbbed at the sight of him. She wanted to see Azriel flustered more often.

Amren smacked him on the back, her eyes going back and forth between the two of them, before smacking his back a little harder than necessary, as if to remind them of Elains mate that was sitting at the table. Lucien glowered at Azriel before going back to his breakfast and conversation with Feyre, who was sitting at the end of the table to Elains right.

Cassian looked at Azriel for a minute before stating, “You need to get laid.”

Elain felt her eyes go wide at her brother-in-laws comment before hiding her face in her hair. She thought about how close they had come the night before, and she was kicking herself for stopping them. Waiting had seemed like such a good idea last night, but right now all Elain wanted was for Azriel to make love to her and never stop. She wanted him to claim her in a way that nobody ever had. She wanted him to leave a mark on her so that every other fae in Prythian would know who owned her heart- who she gave her heart two.

“Cassian!” Feyre exclaimed, carefully keeping her eyes off of her sister. “We’re eating breakfast.”

“Tell that to him,” Cassian said and pointed a finger at Azriel. “He’s the one that is stinking up the room with his arousal,” Which earned him a punch in the arm courtesy of Nesta. Elain had thought that everyone could smell her arousal, but did they think it was Azriels? Did their scents smell the same, but if they thought it was Azriel’s arousal, then why weren’t they looking at her. Unless they thought she was the reason for his current state.

The usually unflappable spymaster was so flushed that his only response to Cassian was a murderous glare and a swift “shut up.” Elain took in the sharp line of his jaw, and imagined running her tongue over it. How could she not have done that the night before? She imagined that jaw between her legs, while his tongue was pressing against her core, and she could feel it.

“So you think Elain should train?” Feyre said from Elain’s left, trying to get the conservation normal again.

Elain was suddenly bombarded with a mental image of her in Illyrian leathers, but she was kneeling in front of someone. The scarred hand that tangled in her hair told her she was kneeling in front of Azriel. Her mouth was opened and she was licking his -

It was Elain’s turn to gasp this time, her eyes flying to Azriel, who looked at her with a smirk. Did he know what she saw? That was impossible, no one ever saw her visions but her. Unless it wasn’t a vision…

A soft coolness brushed against her bare leg under the table, and Elain knew it was a shadow. She didn’t know whether this particular shadow was bold, or if it was under the directions of Azriel. Either way she was curious to find out. She bit her lip and glanced towards the shadowsinger, whose face was unreadable, but his eyes were suspiciously bright. He definitely knew what he was doing.

The shadow caressed her leg so delicately Elain was surprised she felt it. Feeling the shadow against her skin cooled her down just enough so that she could gather her thoughts to feel humiliation creeping up her spine like ivy, as she finally understood the situation.

Oh Mother. Her family could smell her arousal.

Her face burned hotter than ever before. She needed to excuse herself from the table.

Elain stood up so fast she thought she was going to faint, and ignored the six pairs of eyes watching her, and she muttered some excuse about helping the twins in the kitchen. She turned so quickly she almost toppled her chair, and she left behind a plate of cold eggs as she practically ran from the room.

She didn’t go to the kitchen. She bolted past it and out the side door, not bothering to take in her surroundings — otherwise she wouldn’t have tripped over the uneven patch of the cobblestone path leading to her garden, and continued straight to her little gardening shed.

It actually wasn’t so little. Elain’s gardening shed was practically a cabin. She had insisted on something smaller, just a regular wooden tool shed, but Rhysand in all his generosity wanted to build her something big enough for her to live in, so they came to a compromise. There was one big main room, filled with everything she could possibly want to garden with, a small kitchenette and bathroom fitted with running water, and Rhysand convinced her to add a small bedroom in case she tired while gardening. Despite his meddling her brother-in-law did love to spoil her.

Her shed was the only place she could feel truly alone at the river house, and she hoped that the smell of flowers and various fertilizers would cover the scent of her arousal. Elain barely noticed the hot tears sliding down her face as she slammed the door shut, she was feeling too many emotions to care about anything, and despite her confusion and humiliation, her desire for Azriel was so strong, and the burning at her core came back with a vengeance, that nothing really mattered to her. Every cell in her body wanted to be claimed by Azriel.

Elain collapsed in on herself. Her body hit the floor with a thud, and she brought her knees up to her chest in a hug. She sat there crying for a minute before she heard her name being whispered in the shadows. Her head whipped around so quickly she almost struck it against the door — at first she only saw shadow, but then there was Azriel clear as day with inky shadows swirling around his form.

“Az,” Elain exclaimed before getting to her feet and throwing herself at him. She expected to feel his hardened muscles, the softness of his shirt against her cheek, and the thrill of his calloused fingers against her skin, but she felt nothing except cool air. Elain took a step back and looked at him in confusion.

“It’s a trick I learned. Very helpful for spying, but not so much for comforting,” Az explained, and his face softened into concern as he continued. “Are you ok?”

“I’m so confused, and humiliated,” Elain sniffed as she brought her arms around herself. Her voice turned to a whisper as she said, “And all I want is for you to touch me the way you did last night and to never stop. I-I don’t understand.” She hiccuped.

“I’m not exactly sure what is happening, but I promise you I will find out. I want nothing more than to touch you too,” Az let out a groan that skittered over Elains skin and caused her aching center to throb. “But I don’t think I should see you until you… settle down.” After seeing the horrified look on her face he continued. “Not because I don’t want to, but because of what you said last night. You wanted to be free the first time we — made love— and I want to respect that. I’ll tell everyone that you aren’t feeling well, and I’ll have Nuala and Cerridwen bring you food and everything you need.”

“Are you not affected?” Elain asked in a whisper.

“I am, but I have been feeling this for a long time, Elain. I have wanted you for so long and been denied — every part of me is screaming to go to you right now, but I don’t want everyone to know. Well, I want to rub it in everyone’s face that the prettiest girl in Pyrthian wants to be with me,” Azriel shook his head with a small smile. “However, you know how our family can be.”

Elain nodded in understanding, and her tears subsided just a little. Azriel thought that she was the prettiest girl in Prythian. Happiness bloomed in her chest like a rose in spring.

“When will I see you again?” Elain asked and another thought occurred to her. “Are you still at breakfast?”

“No, I left a moment or two after you. I didn’t want everyone noticing that the scent in the room was lessening, so I left too. Rhysand and Lucien looked like they wanted to kill me, but fuck ‘em.”

A small giggle erupted from Elain as she said, “Yeah, fuck ‘em.”

Azriel blinked in surprise before tossing his head back in laughter.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can, I promise. I don’t want to be away from you any more than you want to be away from me,” Azriel said with a blush. “I’m assuming.”

“You’re correct.” Elain gave him her best smile — one that hopefully said she wasn’t going to climb the walls in desperation and want. “I miss you.” Elain said and her smile turned shy.

“I miss you too,” Azriel said with a heartbreaking smile. “I’ll see you soon, love.”

Elain said goodbye before he vanished into shadows.

Azriel felt weird about going to the library in his current state. He knew that the females that worked there had experienced trauma in the past and that the library was a safe haven for them, and he was more than embarrassed to be entering their sanctuary with the stench of arousal dripping off of him. Clotho hadn’t seemed to notice, however, when she saw him and directed him to the fourth floor. Az didn’t get the chance to say why he was there.

He did his best to avoid the priestess’ as he made his way to the fourth floor, which was suspiciously easy — almost as if they could smell him coming and knew not to go near him. The next training session was going to be uncomfortable.

When Az finally got to the section Clotho had directed him to he was stunned to find Mor sitting at a table with dozens of books spread out and propped open, she was pouring over an ancient looking book when her brown eyes looked up and met his.

She looked pleasantly surprised as she said, “You’re here sooner than I expected.”

“Mor,” Azriel said with a sigh and rubbed his temples. He could feel the beginning of a headache approaching. “What the hell is going on.”

The girl looked at him with pity before patting the seat next to her.

“I’ve been looking into all kinds of bonds that can occur between fae,” Mor started and held up a worn red book, “regular, run of the mill mating bonds,” She set her book down before picking up a fraying and tattered green one. “Surprisingly they have a book on bonds that can be made by the Cauldron — ancient, and in a language I barely understand,” Mor set the book down gingerly before picking up a hefty blue leather bound book. “And volumes, so many volumes, of mating bonds throughout the history of Prythian. This one here is just the greatest hits, but the next aisle over,” She set the book down and pointed her thumb over her shoulder. “Has over 70 books detailing various mating bonds throughout history in the tiniest print you have ever seen. I didn’t know it was possible to write that small, but Mother bless the person who came up with the anti-aging spell for ink and parchment.”

Azriel stared at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll take my thank you any day now.” Mor said.

“Why are you doing this?” Azriel asked in a calm voice. He looked at her intently as she tried to keep her face blank, but ended up turning the book opened in front of her.

“I want you to be happy,” Mor said in a quiet voice, so different from her usual boisterous self. “After,” She nibbled on her lip to collect her thoughts. “After 500 years you deserve happiness. I feel almost responsible, and I just-” She cut herself off with a shake of her head. “You and Elain both deserve to be happy.”

Azriel looked at her for a second before saying, “Thank you,” He let a moment pass before adding, “I want you to be happy too.”

He could see her eyes start to line with silver, but she managed to crack a smile.

“I’ll be happy once I can leave, Az,” She deadpanned which caused Azriel to roll his eyes. “So get to work.”

They spent at least three hours sifting through book after book only to come up empty handed. Azriel didn’t know what he expected, but he thought he would be able to find something that would at least point him in the right direction. He certainly didn’t think there would be that many books on mating bonds, or even spells that could create the illusion of a mating bond. Even the book on Cauldron made bonds held nothing of importance for him.

He let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes with the heels of palms. All he wanted to do was see Elain again, but he couldn’t go back to her empty handed.

“Maybe we are looking in the wrong section.” Mor suggested as she slumped in her seat.

“Has Clotho ever been wrong before?” Az asked and attempted to keep his frustration at bay. He knew it would take a while to find the information he wanted, but all of his self-restraint and patience had been worn thin. He may be the Spymaster, but he was a male just like any other, and he ached for a certain female.

“I could sense a bond between you two,” Mor said and ran her hands through her mane of hair in frustration. “But I didn’t understand why nothing snapped into place when you ate the food she offered.”

“Oh,” Azriel said with a blink. He ran a hand over his face as he realized he forgot to tell her a very important piece of information. “I offered her a sip of my coffee, and then a blue river of energy flowed out of her chest and into mine.”

He remembered perfectly how it looked and how it had shocked him to his bones. The beautiful silver-blue radiating from her heart, like mist over the Sidra, and found its way home to his chest.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Mor exclaimed, her voice breaking the tranquility of the library, as she gestured to the piles of books surrounding them.

“Sorry,” Azriel said. “I’ve been a little distracted.”

He had been. Everytime he turned the page his mind kept wandering back to Elain, and once he started to think of Elain he began to feel her. He could feel how amazingly soft her lips were, how pliant her body was as it pressed against him, and then he could see the two of them tangled in sheets while her cries of pleasure rang through the air. There were multiple times when his thoughts became so vivid he ran the risk of ruining his pants, and he looked around to make sure that no one had noticed where his mind went. The images he saw were so real, and so familiar that he would have sworn they were memories somehow. And the way he saw them was different too because they felt as if they came to him from an outside source— almost similar to how Rhysand would talk to him, mind to mind.

Mor’s delicate golden brows furrowed as she lost herself in thought. Azriel could practically see a faelight go off in her mind at the way her expression brightened. She started digging through the books, flinging some over her shoulders which his shadows had to catch. Eventually, she found what she had been looking for, and started flipping through a blue leather bound book that was in much better shape than the others. A smile spread across her face as she read a passage.

“Here.” Mor said as she handed the book to him, an unusual gentleness of her face.

Azriel accepted the book. His body went unnaturally still as he looked at a section entitled “The Bonds of The Mother”. His hazel eyes churned as he studied every word.

Not much is known about the bonds crafted by the Mother other than the fact that they are rare. While bonds of the Cauldron often are matches of strengths and more often than not created to ensure the continuation of the fae race, it is speculated that a bond created of the Mother shows a pairing of two souls perfect for each other. Two fae that are bonded by the Mother were created for each other, complimentary in every way, with their souls destined to find each other. Soul Bonds, which is the proper name of a bond the Mother creates, appear as a silver-blue light; they are only in place when both fae accept each other completely and wholly. One aspect of the Soul Bond that distinguishes it from the Mating Bond, is that both fae must accept some form of nourishment in order for the bond to be fully accepted. The Mother, having dominion over females, may cause the soul bond to have a more physical effect on females than males, which also separates the Soul Bond from the Mating Bond. It should be known that the acceptance of a Soul Bond nulls any other bond that may or may not be present, while it is highly unlikely it is possible to have multiple Mating Bonds which is not so for Soul Bonds. The acceptance of a Soul Bond nullifies any bond or spell which may connect two fae.

“Azriel!” A cheerful voice disturbed his reading. Azriel looked up, slightly annoyed at being interrupted, to see a familiar red-head poker her head around a bookcase. “Did you come to visit me?” Gwyn shot him a smile — one that he was sure would have been charming if he didn’t have a soul bond. She stepped into view.

He had a soul bond.

The shadowsinger shook his head and said, “I have to leave. May I take this with me?” He asked in a rush. He had to get Elain and let her know, a small wave of trepidation passed through him as he thought of how she reacted to Lucien and the mating bond. Azriel sent a prayer to the Mother, please, please let Elain accept the Soul Bond.

“Of course,” Gwyn said with a small frown. “You’re leaving so soon?” Her teal eyes finally looked at what aisle he was in and understanding dawned on her face.

“I’ll be here,” Mor chirped from behind Az. “Cleaning up so Lover Boy can go find the love of his life. I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure he owes me big time.”

Azriel stood there anxiously, just wanting to deal with Mor and Gwyn later, he had to go see Elain. As soon as Gwyn stepped out of the way Azriel left — determined to find his perfect half.

#elain archeron #elain acotar #elriel fanfic #pro elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain x azriel #elriel #azriel #after the ceremony #after the ceremony chapter 4 #my fanfiction #my work

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reverieregina · 3 years ago

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Curse of the all-knowing part 1

Caspian x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N was living her life like anyone in the 21st century, until one day she comes across a portal to a magical kingdom, Narnia. A kingdom she believed to be fictional, is suddenly real. What is the reason for her arrival? And what are the surprises that are awaiting her?

Words: 1806

Warning: None

English is not my first language

I look away from my laptop screen, where Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader is playing. I look out at my window, noticing the nice weather, and get the sudden urge of going on a walk. I look back at my laptop. The movie is nearing its end and I can already feel my throat tighten and few tears running down my face. No matter how many times I watch this movie, the ending always gets me. Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace say goodbye to Aslan and Caspian before going to the waves and get back to their own world.

I wash my face so I don't look like I just cried and put on some comfortable clothes for a walk. I would rather chill on my bed but something told me to take a walk. I leave the apartment complex with AirPods, some random song playing in my ears, and go to the woods nearby. I found the familiar path through the woods. The birds are chirping and there are flowers here and there. The forest is giving away a different energy today, something I never have felt before. A gust of wind blows past me, almost pushing me off the trail. I look at the direction the wind is blowing. Should I? I just make sure not too far away from the trail. I follow the wind like I'm Pocahontas or something. I reach a door and furrow my brows. That's random, who would put a random door in the middle of the woods. I open the door like something else would be at the other side, but of course, it's just the same forest. My phone gives away the sound of a notification and I take out my phone as I go through the door. Just as I do that, I lose reception, weird. I close the door behind me and take off my AirPods as I look up.

I look around and notice I'm in some kind of garden, full of rose bushes. Impossible, a second ago it was just trees. I turn around to the door, if it took me wherever I'm then it can take me back. Just as I'm about to grip the handle, it fades away, like the rest of the door.

"No, no, stop it. come back!" I banged my hand on the door but keeps fading until it's gone and it's just bushes. Great, there went what could be my only way home. I look around, it's just roses. I walk around, trying to find my way from here. Survival mode on.

If I had any.

I reach what seems like a Medieval age's castle. How come it looks brand new while the rest in the world is in ruins? I try to find someone and just as I'm about to shout, a person walks by and by the sound of it, a horse is nearby. The bushes are in the way so I'm well hidden. I hate talking to strangers but I need to know where I am. Once again, just as I'm about to shout I stop myself. The bushes are no longer hiding the lower part of his body, his horse body. My eyes widen and my breath thicken. I must be dreaming. The centaur looks around like he could feel someone staring. I crouch down. I stay like that until I no longer hear his steps.

This can't be happening. Centaurs are supposed to be fiction, so why did I just see one? I must be dreaming. I pinch my arm and feel a bit of pain, okay so not dreaming. Still doesn't explain my whereabouts. Think Amy, you were on a walk, you left the trail and went through a randomly placed door. My eyes widened in realization. The door! I'm in a new place and I just saw a mythical creature. I must be in another world. Time to find out where and just work from there. I stand up and am met with an older man. I yelp leaves my lips and the man gets startled by my sudden appearance. After calming down for a few seconds I get a better look at him. He kinda looks like Santa, but shorter.

"I have never seen you before. Who may you be?" He asks. Pretty calm for someone that just saw a person come out of bushes.

"Me? Just nobody, no one!" Great Amy, lie when he seems nice and you need help. The man chuckles at my embarrassing state.

"Well, just 'Nobody.' Care to tell me your name and what you're doing here?" I look at the man that is staring at me very patiently. At least he doesn't see me as a threat. I sigh. I will sound crazy but it's the only explanation I can come up with.

"My name is Y/N L/N and I think I'm in the wrong world." Just as that leaves my lips, I realize how crazy that sounds. On the other hand, I just saw a centaur. The man just stands still, like he is comprehending what I just said. We just stay there staring at each other for some seconds until the man finally says something.

"Come with me." He says and walks away to the massive castle.

"Hey I'm not following a stranger anywhere, I don't plan on dying today!" I shout back. I was raised better than that. The man stops and turns around.

"Do you know where you are?" I shake my head. "Do you know how to get back to your own world?" Once again I shake my head. "Then follow me." Sorry mom, but I have questions and someone has the answers. I follow the man that is faster than you would think but I catch up fast.

"Excuse me sir, but where am I?" I ask. The man looks at me and then forward again. That man has a destination and he is determined to get there.

"You will get answers soon dear child." Good to know.

"Okay, but can I at least get your name." The man smiles at me, making me feel a bit calmer about this situation.

"I'm Professor Cornelius." Finally an answer! But why does his name sound familiar? I'm sure I never have meet him before, have I? As we walk to wherever he is taking me I notice the people around us. People dressing in Medieval clothing, dwarfs, minotaurs, and centaurs. I would think that we were on a movie set but I'm pretty sure we passed by a badger that was talking to a mouse.

We reach some enormous doors and the professor opens them up, looking around for someone. I slow down my steps. This place is magical, with pillars and a glass roof. It is so new yet so familiar. People were happily chatting, clearly happy for something since they have a small celebration of some sort. The deeper I go into the room the quieter the people get. Guess I crushed the party and I'm pretty sure I heard someone mention my clothes. When I reach the Professor I see him with his back turned to me while talking to someone and the surrounding people look at me with suspicion. Ignoring their staring, I look behind them. There are two thrones on a dais. Am I about to meet royalty?

"Miss Y/N, come here." Says the professor, taking me out of my thoughts. "There is someone you should meet." I walk the few steps to the professor and as he moves to the side I'm met with the most handsome man I have ever seen. He smiles and a warm feeling is spreading in my chest. The more I look at him, the more I realize.

I know who he is. I saw him just two hours ago.

"Miss Amy, let me introduce you to-" The professor starts, but my mouth worked faster than my brain and didn't let him finish.

"Caspian." His name leaves my lips. The man in front of me is Caspian. Everyone looks perplexed but I don't care, I can't stop staring into his eyes. They just give me comfort, I could stare into them forever. I finally know where I am.

"Professor Cornelius," Someone is talking but who I don't know. I just can't move. "I thought you said that she is from another world."

"She said that she is and her clothes are something I have never seen before. Also, she seemed so confused over where she is." He answered. Well, obviously my clothes are something you have never seen before, I'm from the 21st century.

"And how do we know she is telling the truth?" The same man asked. I finally find my voice and talk for the first time since I saw Caspian.

"I am in Narnia, aren't I?" I ask. Caspian chuckles and takes a step towards me.

"Yes my lady, you are in Narnia and I'm its king. Tho it seems you already know that." Caspian explained. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks and I look away from him. I look to my right and I see a balcony. Not saying another word I walk towards it. I can obviously hear someone laugh a bit and their footsteps following me but I keep going. While out I see the clearest ocean I have ever seen. A bit to the right and I see a cave in the distance. Must be the cave the Pevensies came from in the second movie. Someone stands beside me but my eyes are back on the ocean.

"Beautiful isn't it? It takes your breath away." Caspian. That man has been taking people's breath away for years.

"Yeah," I answered. A few seconds go by until I realize my mistake, he is royalty. "Your majesty." I bow, more or less. He laughs, gosh I could listen to that laugh forever.

"No need to bow and Caspian is just fine, Lady Y/N." Once again I feel the blood rush to my cheeks. I don't know if this is better or worse than watching him through a screen.

"Well then Caspian," I emphasize his name. "Call me Y/N." He put his hands on the rails and looks at me, the atmosphere goes from comfortable to extremely serious.

"Lady Y/N, I was told you were from a different world yet you know my name. I would really like to know why and how."

"I think it's for the best if we speak somewhere a little more private. Because what I'm about to say will change everything." He nods in understanding. A new world is nothing new to him, his friends and his ancestors were from another world. But what is new is that I'm not from the same one as the Pevensies.

"Follow me."

Next chapter

#caspian x reader #caspian imagine #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie #edmund pevensie #peter pevensie #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #aslan #ben barnes #king caspian #prince caspian x reader

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peeterparkr · 4 years ago

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perennial;tom holland|fifteen.

chapter fifteen: weeds.

↳ flower meanings:

Daisy: new beginnings Thistles: protection buttercups : childish white clover: happiness

chapter summary: the stories of the wallflowers and who we are supposed to blame

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angst, mentions of sex, UNRELIABLE authors

word count: 9K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER: none

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

I know it took me forever to write this, it was so difficult to write this chapter. I KNOW IT’S UNUSUAL, but please read between the lines because I am trying to tell the story through everyone’s eyes. And EVERYTHING has a reason I swear. ESPECIAL THANKS TO @laurieteddy ( @erodasghosts ) for helping me out wit this, go thank her, there woudln’t be any chapter,

tags aren’t working, please leave feedback asdakd

People often tend to ignore the wild daisies, thistles or buttercups that dare to pop in the road, people often think of them as rather a plague, or rather too common to be interested in them. Most people try not to look at them. But when they are combined and together they can create the most beautiful bouquet.

Some people, like Harry, however like to stop and stare and collect them, wonder how they grow in the most unsuitable places. Harry was someone who could spread love so easily, when he was a wallflower himself. Not easily noticed. A crestfallen Harry had been trying to figure out what to do, for a while now. He hadn’t been able to grow his love around anyone lately, because he’d lost his favorite flower. How would he grow daisies when the daisy did not want to grow anymore.

Emma was one of those daisies that people often ignored. So spectacular she managed to bloom even when all the odds were against her, in the most odd places. Like daisies in the path as they managed to outgrow the asphalt, or daisies in window corners, or in random fields where people like to do picnics.

Often people ignored her for she was outshined by other magnificent flowers. Even the night before, she’d been outshined by another flower who had just joined the game.

Emma had been outshined by a particular flower for a while now, she did not resent her in any way. Though she could not hide her appetence, for it had come and gone so many times by now. Why would anyone stare at a daisy like her? She would wonder.

Emma often thought of y/n to be a sunflower, unique, beautiful and vedirit, the flower that has sun in its own name because even the sun is outshined sometimes. A flower that searches for the sun, for the spotlight. Emma, a daisy was often outshined by a magnificent sunflower. Because people often think daisies can keep blooming even when they are stepped on.

Timmy took Emma for granted. Harry had been so delicate, until he decided that he needed to know why sunflowers grew so tall.

According to gardeners daisies are hardy, drought-tolerant plants that provide years of gorgeous, classic charm. Sure. Emma was all of that, she was tolerant but she also wanted to be loved. Very loved and she deserved it. She was such a magnificent human being who dared to pop out in the darkest situations.

However, Emma understood why y/n got the attention. Sunflowers were also drought-tolerant but they don’t bloom that easily. It depends on the soil, how you water them… and all the care plants need. But once they bloom, such a whimsical and lyrical flower.

Emma knew why Tim and y/n had not worked out. And Emma knew why Tom and her would work.

Timmy liked peonies. Y/N was not a peony.

Tom liked yellow flowers. Sunflowers, more often than not, are yellow.

Emma did not understand, if Harry loved daisies…. Why didn't they work out?

Did Harry truly love daisies or had he settled for the tiny version of a sunflower, the one with less impact. The one that could bloom easily. The one he didn’t have to water that often. The one flower that didn’t need the spotlight.

Emma would replay that night over, and over. The night that champagne had been spilled because someone had dropped the glass, the night that every heart had been broken. And she wondered how not even Harry had been able to turn the disaster into a beautiful evening, because everything had been dropped. The night everyone had burned, the beautiful garden had turned into chaos, a war. A war she did not wish to be a part of.

Emma wished to be a sunflower. And it was ironic given how many times y/n had told Emma she wanted to be like her, y/n did not see how thrilling and exciting her life was. How Emma though, knew it complicated, longed for the drama and the story and… everything.

Sure, her and Harry had had a lovely story, but y/n and Tom? Even y/n and Timmy. Her stories were worth telling. That’s why she was bloody telling it. Full of plot twists and drama and fire. A story that kept everyone on the edge.

And it wasn’t jealousy, it’s just— Emma was frustrated. She was just not burning in her story. She was boring and though she tried to shine and shine, she just—was taken for granted, because daisies aren’t unique. They’re delicate, though. Easy to bloom and easy to break.

She did not want to be taken for granted. No, she wouldn’t. But maybe Harry still liked the sunflower. Or he had once, so how could he like daisies over sunflowers?

Harry, was one big mystery to Emma, how he grew into her like poison ivy. Without poison, and flowers and just tangled into her. Emma thought Harry’s love was like a good plague, one that kept flowering through her. And growing into one couldn’t get out.

Emma missed him, Emma missed kissing Harry. And though Emma often was against kisses, because she believed kisses were only but a hoax to get tricked into phony romance. Emma always said to beware good kissers, because you might end up thinking you’re in love.

Emma knew that's probably what had happened to y/n, Tim had been just too good of a kisser for her, that she ended up believing she was in love with him. Lips hold poison that becomes addictive. Sometimes that addiction becomes toxic, which is what Emma believed happened to Tim. He had miscomprehended his own situation, he was not in love anymore, he was an addict to y/n.

Or… rather, he didn’t want to accept that he hadn’t been enough sunlight for the sunflower. Sunflowers turn to the sun. Maybe Tom was the closest thing to the sun for her, maybe that’s why y/n shined the most when she was with him, her smile was the brightest, and she was the warmest. Emma knew how y/n’s smile would linger every time Tom made her smile, she’d noticed it, even on set when she was trying to hide it. She wasn’t subtle, y/n’s glance would look for Tom, and when he was around, she’d try to hold her breath. She… shined. Because sunflowers turn to the sun.

Daisies, however,search for unusual places. And Emma had searched for the most unusual place to bloom now.

Emma had slept with Josh for a simple reason, he wasn’t a good kisser and kissing gets more intimate than sex. For Emma, a kiss could tell if you could fall in love. Kissing was but the bond of two people’s secret merging into one.

Emma was tired, she wanted the talking to stop with Harry and just… kiss him. That’s all she wanted, but her pride was too loud. She wanted to be like the sunflower, who could easily forgive. But Emma was terrified, because she’d never been able to love like this before, and the light was still flickering.

Emma had talked to Cherry, or rather… Listened to her, and she wondered however could she blame her. Cherry, Cherry was another victim outshined by the sunflower. Cherry was just another casualty drawn by the war, and her heartbreak, could be just as powerful. But of course, no one cared about her. She was the villain. Emma had listened to Cherry. Cherry was not in love with Tom, Emma could tell. She’d been fooled by a kiss, but no, she was not in love. Cherry had only been blinded by Tom.

Had Emma been a villain at some sort of point? Pushing Tim and Y/N together, even if Emma knew that Tim and y/n would eventually break?

Emma had been blinded because she knew she couldn’t lose Harry. And god, it hurt. So much, and she was confused and she needed to scream to finally be noticed. There is the inexplicable pain that comes when you don’t acknowledge it, and avoiding it won’t erase the problem, it makes it grow more and more.

Emma did not understand why she had tried to avoid it, getting drunk, dressing up, taking long walks and singing, but she was not okay. And maybe it was finally sinking. Emma was a flower that was drying out, that was reminded of the greatest love one could have ever dreamed of. Maybe Emma had learned too much of the sunflower, but now she felt it, how Emma was now made of Harry, too.

Emma hadn’t smiled since she’d left him, and she wished she had tried to mend things before, but Emma felt like it would take her nowhere because maybe her love had not been enough for Harry, and to feel worthless takes one strength, and Emma was getting tired of pretending she was strong.

Probably not even Tim had noticed it, how she had stopped dressing a certain way or why she couldn’t watch certain films, she had had a haircut, and how she still couldn’t explain it to herself. Why had the fairytale faded? Days turned into night, and there she had been again, kissing another stranger.

Emma had her head underwater and until now she noticed she couldn’t breath. The daisy was not there anymore.

Emma never cried, but she did this one time, with a cigarette burning out in between her fingers, with the tulips in her nightstand dried out, listening to Tim complaining about Tom, whatever he tried to say Emma had not listened.

Someone had shown up later that night, the door had rang, probably y/n willing to talk about her latest decision, Emma felt some sort of fear. Had y/n spent the entire day with Harry?

Tim had looked up, too. Y/N could’ve forgotten her key, was she there? Emma was not sure why that had made her feel unsteady, after all this time, did she believe y/n would go for Harry?

Timmy went to open the door and he seemed… calm. Not sure what Emma had expected, probably a crying y/n that only longed for a bottle of cheap wine for herself as they sat on the floor, near the couch, and then they would end up listening to old 80’s songs, or re-watching some poorly made netflix show that probably didn’t deserve the attention, but was good enough to have as a background.

That was what Emma had expected. To be yet again pushed aside.

“I’ll… want me to get the door?” Tim asked.

Emma shook her head, knowing that y/n would not want to see Tim. Emma stood up. And it hadn’t been what she had expected. Yet, she was filled with doubts. Had y/n… given up on Tom and decided to go with Harry?

What happened? Had she not talked to Tom? Had she spent the day with Harry? They must have.

How—how did the sunflower manage that?

How could it only take them a day and be fine with it?

There was a slight hint of jealousy over Emma, which was completely understandable. The girl had gone through so many times of being outshined by her, even y/n’s sadness had to outshine Emma’s.

But it wasn’t y/n at the door.

Because probably no one had cared enough to care about the wallflowers, but they had to solve it.

And it had taken another fire to get that other wallflower to Emma’s door.

The night before, the one thundering storm that had crashed in the other household. But it had ceased.

Before Emma had opened the door, the other weed like flowers had had a conversation, hours before. The other casualties had been having a conversation while Tom and y/n were enjoying a sunset, everyone else was dreading the darkness the night would bring.

Before they could even think of the solution Tom and y/n had made, it seemed like the conversation of their unpredictable mess was making them flow. Merely minutes before Tom and y/n had come back home.

James, another wallflower himself, had spent the day of the storm with Clark and Sam, and though they seemed calm, and they had had what could be called a good day, he couldn’t stop his nerves. James was often too protective of his sister and he would not stop by now. Though, he had also been very protective of Tom.

They went home, after Harry had warned them the other pair had left to solve their problem elsewhere. Though it was selfish, the four of them wished they could solve it for the sake of the group.

James was worried about his sister, and he now had to worry for the impression Clark had of him and the drama. James didn’t want Clark to be involved in that drama.

Clark, however, had been possibly the only one that understood the situation. Outsiders often see the wider picture and notice things we don’t. To Clark it was clear that the people around Tom and y/n had been their doom. Clark was not a wallflower. But he didn’t know that and he did not care.

Clark was someone, very much like Harry, and Clark was someone who actually liked thistles. Thistles are often disregarded because of their prickles, and not very pretty among many flowers.

Clark often knew that everyone thought James was a prick. He was, for the matter, but it was often because James liked to protect himself and those around him, building fences to keep them safe.

“I think, James, you do not give enough credit to them,” Clark said. “They managed to go from mortal enemies to a very adorable couple. What I’ve seen so far is two people who love each other so much that they grew past their hatred which, I may have been a witness to when we first started dating, those two could not be in a room without throwing knives at each other and now the way they look at each other reminds me so much of us, even I was slightly jealous of their glances. So secretive and loving.”

Maybe they all tried to ignore that, how they’d turned arguments into flirting, and translated smirks into smiles.

James sighed, “they haven’t changed. Plus, they—slept with other people, and our cousin?”

Sam was quietly sitting across them, scrolling through his phone.

Harry snorted a chuckle, “Do you think they will get out of this one?”

“Yes,” Sam was the one to speak now.

James rolled his eyes, “and then they’ll keep being idiots.”

“Love changes us, idiot,” Clark said. “Look at you, before I met you, you’d be hooking up with a different person every bloody night,” he chuckled.

James rolled his eyes, “are you slut shaming me?”

Sam chuckled at the statement. “You /were/ a slut.”

James rolled his eyes, “shut up.”

“No, but I mean, when we first—started dating I was also scared of not being—You know, I’m boring—“

“You’re not boring,” James interrupted. Because he wasn’t.

“But I am not like you are—you—you and I are very different, you are a very fun person, though sometimes you bloody decide to act all grown up to y/n, you’re still an idiot.”

“Always acting so grown up,” Sam intruded. “As if you knew what you were doing.”

“I do know!” James complained.

Harry laughed, “you do not.”

“Especially when it comes to y/n,” Sam said. “That’s the least you know.”

Harry, also standing nearby, rolled his eyes and nodded.

“No, no, that’s not true, I think you do know,” Clark pointed out. “But you are too worried to see that this is—Look, okay not right now, but I do think your sister and—“Clark turned to Sam and Harry. “And your brother are so in love but they kept listening to all of you and ended up sabotaging themselves.”

“They’re idiots,” Harry finally commented.

“So is James and look at us,” Clark pointed out.

James chuckled, “are you done insulting your fiancé?”

“I’m not insulting you,” he kissed his cheek. “My point is, you changed and we adapted and we became this magnificent couple, but it’s not always been easy.”

James stayed quiet, he knew that. It had not been rainbows and butterflies but they’d managed to come through.

Clark watched him, James was often too insecure of everything and built walts and pricked anyone who tried to tumble them down, Clark included. And James often did the same thing with y/n, trying to hide her from the world, and always trying to be the bigger person.

“I think their problem is the exact problem of ours,” Clark continued. “While everyone here is meddling in their relationship, you sister didn’t even know we were serious.”

Clark and James had had a nice relationship but every obstacle on their way had almost been powerful enough to break them apart. However each time they had outgrown it, their relationship had come stronger. That’s probably why Clark believed in the other pair. But Clark also believed James had overprotected y/n and not let her make her own decisions, maybe y/n had tried to convince herself to love Tim because her own brother had told her to. Maybe y/n had doubted Tom because her own brother told her to.

“I…” James sighed. “I know this kind of stuff happens to y/n, and Tom and y/n specifically, look I didn’t bring you that one time at the engagement party and look what happened, I am--That’s the thing, Tom and y/n always… Even when they weren’t dating we were always on the edge of what they will do next, look at us now I don’t know what they will come up with tonight.”

Harry sighed, and rolled his eyes, he did not want to keep being part of that conversation. He left.

Clark did understand why James had been so keen on having their relationship so private. James was scared of the other obstacles that he could not control. James did not trust his sister that much, not with relationships.

Even when Y/N was dating Tim, James had told Clark how he thought the guy was perfect for her but that he didn’t trust y/n. Maybe James did know why y/n couldn’t love Tim back as much as Tim loved her.

“What I’ve seen is them so in love, and I can tell she truly loves him and is not forcing herself to love him,” Clark said.

James frowned. “What?”

Clark took a deep breath, “I feel like y/n—I, look, I’m not—“Clark gulped.

Sam frowned “what?”

“I—Okay, I met y/n when she was in another relationship,” Clark reminded them. “With Tim.”

“She loved Tim,” James said. “Tim—“

“No, I know, I know, but I see y/n just—she is so free when she is with Tom, and I met Tom before I met any of you.”

James probably understood this. James had criticized y/n when she was dating Tim. But James loved Tim because he had loved y/n, so unconditionally, and Clark had pointed it out to James, how Tim would go to the end of the world for her.

Which is what James would do for Clark. And what Clark would do for James. But Clark had always known that y/n wouldn’t for Tim. Because it seemed that every time she dressed up for Tim, she wished she was dressing up for someone else.

“So?” Sam questioned.

But Clark knew that Tom and y/n would go to the end of the world for each other, and they had proved it several times now. And Clark knew that this was the first time y/n did not do what her brother told her to do, this was her fighting for her own heart and this was her not wanting to be under protection of her brother.

“I think Tom and y/n will work it out, I don’t think it’s easy, but—I think that both of them, if they’ve outgrown everything else, they will outgrow this and you should be supportive whatever their decision is,” Clark stated.

“And if they break up?” Sam questioned, “what will happen to us?”

What would happen to them. Clark knew that probably was what James feared the most. James and Tom had always been friends, there had always been a type of bond between them. It was even weird to him seeing him and his sister so foolishly in love. James knew he would have to say goodbye to Tom, even if he was going to ask him to be the best man. James would have to let Tom go.

And James wondered how y/n would be. Y/N had spent her whole life in love with Tom, her whole life had been wrapped around that fact. James knew. So what would happen if it ever happened?

James and Tom had always been friends.

Sam and y/n had been friends for as long as they could recall, always making fun of each other, building the funniest of anecdotes. Sure everyone knew Harry and y/n had always been best friends. But barely people acknowledged how close Sam and y/n were.

Sam was always left on the outside, probably because he always liked to avoid trouble. Sam, more often than not, was considered to be the most childish in the group. Sam was not childish, he just simply did not understand. Sam was not ignored. Buttercups are loved, though sometimes their love is spread too much and people don’t know what they have to do with it. The problem is when it becomes too much and often, people don’t know what to do with it.

Sam had distanced because he was one of the few people who did not stand y/n and Tom, long before they were dating. He did not stand their bickering, he hated taking sides. Of course everything had made sense when they had confessed they were madly in love but Sam didn’t quite figure it out. How could anyone hate and then love?

For Sam, it had not made any sense, partly. He had known y/n was in love with Tom, her glance was so obvious and then when he had looked back at it, it made perfect sense.

Though she had despised Tom, every now and then Sam would notice y/n hide a smile.

Sam had always tried to figure everything out, and his own imagination often led to conclusions that would drive him insane. Like a child, he always asked the questions.

How? How could she be in love with her very own enemy?

Sam had been the one to drive her home after that heartbreak, after the nightclub. Sam had been the one to listen to her and—Sam had been the one to know she wouldn’t get out of that heartbreak that easily.

Sam had also been the first to know Y/N would date Tim, and he had been the first person—after Harrison to hear Tom say he was in love with her.

Clark’s remark had made Sam think about Tim and y/n, to compare it to Tom and y/n.

The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

However, Sam had been the only one to ask Tom after the engagement party, probably. “It’s so scary to think I’ve loved her my whole life and it didn’t turn out the way I wanted it to.”

Sam remembered when he found out about it, and how angry he was at his brother but how happy he had been after he heard they were having fun in New York. Even when they had told their parents, it seemed that Sam’s fear and anger had gone away, and then… The engagement party.

Sam thought of how scary it was to lose someone you have loved your whole life , but he understood why they were persistent, because if they were so in love and had been for a while, growing past each , how come this had turned into this mess?

Sometimes love isn’t what we think of it.

Sam had been the only one to tell y/n that Timmy and her were not made for each other. She hadn’t questioned him, probably because she knew it. But Sam had been the only one to tell her. Probably because he knew his own brother, Harry at the time of course, he knew nothing about Tom, was deeply in love with her. Maybe that’s what drove Sam to say it but… honestly, Sam did not trust Timothee to be around y/n. He agreed with Tom most of the times when he criticized Timothee.

But he had stayed quiet long enough.

Sam had been the one who had noticed that Tim had known about Harry’s feelings, Harry had never been subtle but… he knew Timothee had noticed.

There were a lot of things Sam had noticed, like how Tim had set up Harry with Emma. Which, of course, ended up being the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Harry, but Sam knew Tim had done it but to get rid of Harry.

Tom had once pointed it out to Sam.

“That guy, Tim, the one y/n is hooking up with,” he had said with poison. “He seems that he quickly got rid of Harry eh? He set Harry up with this other girl just so he can have y/n to himself.”

No, but—Harry and Emma had met at the club. But—maybe Tim had set them up?

And it had seemed like that. Sam wondered what Tim had done to get rid of Tom, because he had probably noticed about it. Timothée was very, very observant. Quiet.

Timothee had probably noticed about Tom’s infatuation long before anyone else had.

Sam knew Timothée was a very, very smart individual. He was very quiet and Sam did not quite like that. Everything he said was like a perfectly crafted plan. He was incredibly smart, and Sam didn’t trust that. But of course, he had been the one to stay quiet for a long time. However, he saw that y/n was happy. And Sam really liked that, because he’d seen her right after that club night, and Sam had been the only one she would reach out to. Occasionally.

Sam had been the first one to know that y/n had declined Tim’s proposal. Sam had been the one y/n had called because she knew Harry was with Emma. Sam didn’t know the real reason why she had declined the proposal. He only remembered how she had arrived at him and was barely breathing. After coming back from that trip to France, to meet his grandparents. Barely anyone knew she had come earlier from that trip, she had cut it short. Coming back to London alone, she’d taken the Eurostar, and it seemed she’d cried all her way back home.

She’d asked Sam to go and pick her up to get her home. She was speaking quickly and nonsense as if she had been barely breathing for the trip. “I-I said no, I should’ve said yes, I love him but I don’t… don’t even know why I said no, I can’t believe I said no I am so stupid.”

She was crying, saying nothing made sense and how her heart had broken because she couldn’t come up with a real reason to say no. Sam had asked if she was ready, if she loved him. Because y/n had not told him what had happened.

“Did you break up?” Sam asked.

“No.”

“What happened?” He questioned.

She had taken a deep breath. “I don’t love him enough.”

She hadn’t seen it coming, but Harry had told Sam. Harry knew Tim would propose. Emma had told Harry. Everyone thought she would say yes, honestly. You never really truly know how a relationship is behind closed doors, but… Sam had been grateful she’d said no. The skeletons in his closet had not come out yet.

Y/N had always thought that Sam didn’t know, but he was very aware.

“I met his grandma, and—She said I would be perfect, I think they—-“she had said. “And—he gave it on a film canister… and I love him, but I’m not—not completely in love. There—there is a part of me that still is not over Tom and I am not sure if I will ever be completely healed from the pain he’s caused me, and that impedes me from loving Tim.”

Sam knew there wasn’t really anything to be worried about, but Sam had known it for a long time. How Tim was probably a master of manipulation. But he knew it, too. Tom had broken y/n to the next level.

“Will you ever be over Tom?” Sam asked.

She had not answered. She wouldn’t be.

Timothée was not a bad person. But Tim often did things to get things done his way, even when he didn’t see it.

“You know I won’t,” she said eventually.

What part had Tim played in this mess? Though there wasn’t much of a part to be played, because y/n and Tom seemed to love creating the chaos themselves, Sam could only wonder what exactly had Tim done to try and take Tom out of the picture.

Though we could argue that it was ‘after Rome’, Sam had noticed that y/n did hate Tom more after Tim’s arrival. But it’s a very fine line because there is a lot Sam didn’t know as to what had happened in Rome and it was after the nightclub.

Sam didn’t understand why they said ‘Rome’, as if Rome had been the place that had been cursed when in fact it had been the very NightClub when things had shattered. For a heart to shatter, it needs to be made of glass. Hearts can only be made of glass when they’re so thoroughly in love. A heart that’s not in love is not easy to break. It’s funny, the stronger the love, the weaker the heart, in some sort of way.

No, Sam had to rephrase that. When a love is so strong, the heartbreak will be more painful. So, Sam could only guess how in love y/n had been to have a heart so shattered. And how was she doing now? And after the script? But last night… She’d made the same face she’d made that night at that club.

There is something about seeing your best friend heartbroken, it fuels your inner rage. Then again, he’d seen his brother heartbroken too.

That’s why Sam usually stepped out, he was not sure how he was supposed to proceed.

But Sam had missed y/n and he didn’t want to miss her again. And then, the night before. He had seen her face, and then she had run away, with Harry this time. Sam had thought she would ask him to drive her away again, like all those times before. Instead, he had stayed with his brother.

He’d heard Tom cry the night before.

But y/n? How had she spent her night? Maybe this time her heart made of glass had been covered on something else or it… was simply too broken now that the shattered pieces couldn’t be turned but into dust for now.

Sam didn’t blame Tom or y/n. But he had to blame someone.

There was something about Tim, or maybe blaming it on Tim was easier for Sam so he didn’t have to take any sides. He could also blame Cherry, but the poor girl had done nothing wrong but to be a fool, and there is a fine line there.

Sam decided to keep blaming Tim. What did Tim have to do with y/n’s heartbreak?

Hadn’t he told her, after their breakup? To sort her feelings out. What did Tim do? Because Tim was very smart.

Tim definitely knew about Tom and y/n. He had probably been the only damn person to have known it since the beginning.

What had Tim said to poison y/n even more against Tom? He had been the one to teach her that one word, perfidy.

Sam had read the script. And something didn’t sit right with Teddy’s character, how he seemed so perfect and yet he had seen y/n run from another country. How Teddy pointed it out, about William and Valerie.

It meant he had pointed out between Tom and y/n.

What had he told y/n about Tom? Yes, Tom and y/n were enemies, and they’d always been, always fighting, but in the end they were friends. In their own way. Maybe only because of the family, but…

Something just didn’t click with Sam.

Probably Tim had poisoned y/n with horrible thoughts about Tom, because y/n had said Tom was a monster, she’d written about it. How could someone ever love someone like him?

Tim was not a bad person. Sam had to tell himself that. Because he wasn’t, really. At the end of the day he was a good friend but… The guy just was… sketchy. To Sam, because it was just as if he had manipulated y/n into loving him.

Or, no, no that’s not how love works. No, y/n had loved him but maybe y/n had known it all the time.

But it just… He always wanted the best for y/n. Right?

Had… What had Tim done to bring y/n to LA, too?

Of course it was stupid to think, but… Sam didn’t want to jump into conclusions but he knew Tim was no saint. He knew that Tim knew y/n. That’s something Sam pointed out every time, Sam knew y/n. He remembered how Tim had brought another girl to his and Harry’s birthday party, knowing damn well y/n’s biggest fear was to be replaced. So if he knew it so, so well, why had he done it? To hurt her?

But also, Tim was the one to… Sam had to erase those thoughts. No, Tim wasn’t a bad person because he’d also been the one to show y/n she could smile again, and she could laugh and love.

And Sam knew how the breakup had gone, New Year’s Eve, when y/n had drunkenly confessed to Tim:

“There’s still a part of me that will always wonder if Tom’s the love of my life.”

To hear that from the person you love the most, must change you. And Tim had asked her to sort her feelings out.

Sam could not blame Tim.

But then again… He had kissed y/n right when he knew Tom and y/n were starting something. And who had come to comfort y/n after the engagement party? Tim.

It seemed like it was so perfectly calculated. So, very well planned. Or maybe not, maybe Tim had noticed how Tom and y/n were so fragile, that would break easily. That’s the thing about Tom and y/n, they were both so scared of the outcome, of any pebble that could be thrown their way and would deter their relationship, that’s why they lived so fast because they both feared the end, they both feared they wouldn’t be strong enough for the bullets shot their way.

Maybe Tim knew that, and maybe Tim knew which pebbles to throw.

Cherry had once told Sam that Tim had been the one to convince y/n to change places with her. And Cherry had said she had been delighted with Tim. Which only brought him to the night before.

Tim had asked Cherry to stay the night at his place. Sam had heard him ask her. No, Tim had not asked in any wrong way, but in a friendly way because the girl had been destroyed.

However, Sam thought there was something fishy in all of the situation. Sam had a slight suspicion that this mess had to do with Tim. Cherry had asked him the night before how long Tim and y/n-Tim, not Tom, how long Timothee and y/n had been dating. Sam had said they weren’t. And they wouldn’t be. Had Tim said something to lead to this mess? Was he the reason why at midnight Tom’s and y/n’s fantasy shattered? Why had Tim asked Cherry to go to his place? Maybe he had to do something with it.

Or maybe Tim only loved y/n. And he had been so blinded by his own love that he hadn’t stopped to realize some things he’d done were wrong. But you can never really know what’s going on behind closed doors.

Harry had his door closed, and Sam wanted to ask his brother what exactly he was going through. Though, he knew he was not having a good time. That was no secret.

Sam knocked on the door.

Harry opened the door to watch his brother, Harry hadn’t slept and he was not breathing. He seemed to be trying to calm himself down, but Sam could tell he was angry. Very, very angry.

“Why did he fucking do it at the engagement party?” Harry asked Sam.

There it was, a conversation they had had millions of times, yet never truly acknowledging it had been the night everyone had burned.

Because Harry often avoided the question. Sam was also slightly angry at how they had had to forgive Tom because Tom was in love and because Tom’s heart had been shattered. But Tom’s drunken speech had led to all this mess and the pain still lingered for the family.

Maybe that’s why no one in the family was really telling anything to Tom, maybe that’s why they weren’t eager with Tom and y/n being together. But they would all stay quiet. Maybe the real reason why James had been reluctant to them was because they feared their battles would leave even more casualties.

No one really had stopped to think how their relationship had changed everyone’s situation, how y/n’s parents had barely talked to the Hollands. How James wouldn’t go out for drinks with the twins and that’s why they didn’t know how serious he was with Clark. How James had to keep his boyfriend out of the drama because he didn’t want his own relationship to get ruined. How Harry and Sam had lost their best friend. How Emma had to run to another country to get over her heartbreak. How Harry had lost the love of his life.

Everyone seemed too focused on how Tom and y/n were trying to get out of this one that everybody had simply forgotten everything they’d left behind. All the casualties.

Every single wallflower, all the weed flowers that had kept growing and had not had the chance to grow.

“I… why do they always have to do everything big? Like first, the engagement party, why did Tom choose to explode there? Why did y/n write a script like that? It’s obvious they both wanted to fail, it’s so-so obvious, and then? What did he do? He slept with her cousin, out of everyone, her cousin… And she slept with Tim!”

Y/n had slept with Tim. Yet another pebble thrown at trying to get Tom and y/n back into the woods. Sam could only try and wonder why y/n had let herself be fooled again, maybe it was a rebound but then again… Maybe Tim wasn’t really the problem, but maybe y/n still felt guilty for that proposal.

Sam remembered it.

“I will never forgive myself because I will never love him the way he loves me.”

Guilt, guilt often grows like poison ivy and covers you and tangles you until you cannot be able to step out of it. Maybe that was the reason why y/n couldn’t stay away from Tim, because Tim had been the one to make her feel loved, and yet she’d never loved him back the same way.

“… Oh my god, y/n knew she could’ve slept with anybody and Tom would’ve not cared but with it’s like she did it on purpose because they have to make everything big,” Harry continued. “And I’m… so tired of it….Like last night, why did that have to happen? They could’ve talked about it but neither did it because they had to wait until the bomb exploded and bring everyone down with them…. I couldn’t even think of my heartbreak because Y/N had it worse, no, I’m not blaming her but-” Harry sighed. “Yes, whatever they love each other but… But what about my own relationship? What about James’ relationship? Didn’t he fear this drama would push Clark away?”

Sam only listened.

“Why did--Why did we have to direct her script so he could make a big entrance and win her back? I knew this would jeopardize my relationship with Emma.”

Because this was always what happened with them. Even when they were enemies. Sam hated it. Always a big, big fight, argument, how they’d have to take sides and take turns to not have them at the same place, and when they were, they would always, always make it big.

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted.

Harry sighed. “And they don’t-even care, they just--Like I had to see Emma today and pick up y/n’s clothes and..that would ruin me and yet I did it, because both Tom and y/n are so fucking selfish and I don’t care-I genuinely couldn’t care less about their drama anymore, I come back and they had fucked, like-” Harry took a deep breath. “Oh my god, how do they fuck it up so badly? They’re only sabotaging themselves... And I don’t know and-why do we have to keep being dragged by their bullshit? If I have to listen to Tom complain about Tim one more fucking time…”

Sam didn’t blame anyone, honestly.

“And look, I don’t even know what the fuck they’re gonna come up with now, they’re so unpredictable and I don’t… If they break up I don’t want to listen to their rambling I… I just can’t sympathise with them anymore, I… No, I don’t mean that. I just… I need my time, too, you know? I need to be angry and I need to get it out and I need to cry it out because I’m-” His voice was breaking. “I’m not okay, I lost Emma, and I know-But oh my god, we couldn’t even come home because they were here fighting or fucking or I don’t even know.”

“Everything was easier when they hated each other,” Sam said. And he meant it. But Sam did try to stop and wonder, what would happen if they were apart?

Tom had changed. Sam had noticed, how sad his brother had turned and only a few days ago how he had a smile back on.

Harry scoffed. “I said that, too.”

“What are you going to do with Emma?” Sam asked, because he didn’t want to feed into the Tom and y/n situation, it would give him a headache.

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged. “I… don’t know. I don’t know because… I am angry because my problem with her started because of Tom and y/n and--” Harry’s glance was glazing, but he was trying to stop himself.

“And I hate it because I should’ve called her but I didn’t because I had all these doubts and I… never got my own closure and I just had to deal with it and accept it because Tom this, y/n that and… I just want to… I want to get back to Emma but I don’t know if I could because Emma is friends with Tim and guess what? That would bring trouble and-”

Sam crossed his arms, listening.

“Or-or what if my friendship with y/n still bothers her? Even if she’s friends with her, and--I don’t even know, because she came here and I don’t know if she’d ever come back to London.”

Harry was shattering.

“I don’t even-know how to talk to her, she’s a stranger and I… I never thought that would ever happen, and she is just so cold and she…I hurt her so much she decided to move to an entire different country, you realize that? Maybe because she didn’t want to see me anymore, I don’t know what she wants,” Harry continued as he plopped on his bed. “And I don’t… No, I do, I do care she slept with someone else because I know she did it just to prove me a point, I know that she hates me now.”

Sam thought about it again, he didn’t think Emma hated Harry. No, she couldn’t.

A laugh was heard, and it was undeniably Tom’s, followed by a remark by y/n. Both twins turned their head to the door. Sam decided to close the door, he needed to listen to his brother, the other wallflower.

Harry had this curse, he was ivy, and he was white cloves. He knew Emma had loved it before but she probably cursed him for it now. Harry often made everything happy, and sometimes happiness is the toughest emotion to bear, Harry would spread his happiness everywhere he could go, but lately he couldn’t, there was barely any anticipation and his heart had felt numb and empty. As if the time when Emma had left, his heart had an indentation waiting to be filled by her.

“I love her, and I was supposed to love her for a lifetime and—“Harry said. “And… Maybe I wish I could…” He squinted. “Did you hear him? That was Tom, he was laughing, right?”

Sam bit his inner cheeks. “Yeah.”

“How long do you think that will last?” Harry sighed. “Even if it doesn’t. How-how does he do that?”

Sam only frowned.

“Do you think if I show up to Emma and just smile at her everything will be fixed?” Harry questioned and then laughed at the statement.

Harry was tired of not knowing what to do. And he was tired that he wanted to fix everything, but he felt that if he even tried to, everything would fall down. Inconspicuously, Harry had tried to go along his whole life without messing things up and that led him to where he was standing right now.

Harry sighed, “do you think they are going to sit us down and walk us through their decision?” Harry inquired.

Sam rolled his eyes, “I think you should focus back on Emma.”

“Right,” Harry sighed. “I just—It wasn’t only the—you know, I’ve been thinking, and my downfall with Emma wasn’t only from the engagement party. It had been something very crafted,” Harry explained, as he paced around the room. “I—I need a beer,” Harry said, as he finally opened the door to head to the kitchen, Sam followed after.

They saw James and Clark, confused, still at the living room, they had probably seen y/n and Tom walking in.

“Any heads up?” Harry asked them.

James looked up and made out a noise that could be translated into an ‘I don’t know.’

Harry rolled his eyes. He was tired. He didn’t want to deal with them.

“Where are they?” Sam asked.

“They—walked in—“Clark started.

“Ignored us,” James added.

Clark chuckled, “they went to the kitchen, and then went outside, they didn’t ignore us, they were just—“

“Too busy staring into each other’s eyes,” James chanted with sarcasm.

“They were talking,” Clark cleared up. “I think we shouldn’t—“

“No, I wasn’t planning to, I don’t care about them right now,” Harry said heading to the kitchen, he could get a glance of them by the window, they seemed calm, which honestly were good news. At least they didn’t have to hear them screaming.

Harry opened the fridge to get a beer, and then leaned against the counter. Sam double glanced at the couple outside and then grabbed a beer for himself.

“They… They were fighting before,” said Harry. “And apparently they slept together, again,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand how they do it,” Harry groaned as he stared at the cold beer in his hand.

Sam crossed his arms, “Stop avoiding it and explain why your downfall with Emma was even before the engagement party.”

Harry rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “It was around the time, when I decided… Tim and I had both talked about it, alright? When he asked me about… Proposing to y/n,” Harry explained. “It was… “ Harry took a deep breath. “I think he was… the one to give me the idea,” Harry said.

The night Harry had decided he would marry Emma, he was so scared. Because he had been so sure for his entire life that he had been in love with y/n, when in reality it came no close to what he felt for Emma. He had been quiet about it.

Harry had once read we all fall in love with three people, the first time you ever love, you are young, it’s the first time you ever experience it, how silly it is to think of it. It feels so pure, and real and it’s incomprehensible, and looking back at it, you must think it wasn’t love. But it is, in its purest form because it’s so undeniably real and childish even. It’s the first time you encounter happiness. The time you learn to love.

Harry hadn’t been in love for all the time. He’d fallen out of love with her and fell back in love. The second time one falls in love is the one that breaks your heart. But they’re the person everyone expects you to love, the one flower that is pretty. The one that teaches lessons, the one that shows what pain is. You learn from it, what makes you grow, what doesn’t. Y/N had been the second one, too. The second love makes us learn what we love about love, good things, and what we don’t. This love is so powerful because it builds us, and we will often try and look back at it, because you might think it’s the one. And we can be blinded by their cold stare and try to fight for it, and though it brings a warm sunset, it’s not… It eventually dawns. The one when we learn about ourselves. The one that teaches us to love ourselves. The one before the one.

Then there’s the third one, the one you don’t expect, it hits without warning and one day you just… simply know it, and Harry had known it, so stupidly. It comes. The one that you don’t search for, the one that is just… right there for you, the one that you never thought you’d fall for. The one that tumbles down all of our walls because you can build a path together. It’s not who you usually like, it’s not like one of those crushes that you’ve had growing up, it brings the best of you. Because you find yourself in a field of all their flowers that have grown into your heart, and it’s beautiful, a dreamland. And you learn to love what you used to hate about love. It’s not the big flower, it’s the one flower you find along the way… the daisy.

That was Emma, all the flaws he loved, evergreen happiness even when everything might fall down. Covered with her, with those eyes that Harry wanted to see forever. So unexpected and now, he wanted her to be every book he read.

But he’d lost her.

“And I bought the ring,” Harry said. “But… Then I asked y/n what she thought,” Harry said. “Y/N was the one before the one,” he explained. “But we sometimes get confused, and… She told me not to marry Emma, and I doubted it. Because no one thought I should and I… I am here now hating myself because I tend to listen to everyone when all that mattered was I loved Emma, I still love her, and-”

Harry thought then, how ironic it was. Maybe that’s why Tom and y/n were out there talking, because it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. It was them who mattered and how they wished to go through it.

“I think I started doubting myself,” Harry said. “And then… it happened and…I lost her, I didn’t know because I was the fool who thought that y/n was the one… When, she never was, and I want to just… Jump to Emma and kiss her, just like they do it, so simply,” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’d sacrifice everything for Emma.”

Sam blew his cheeks. “Why don’t you, then?”

Harry glanced up, “What? Pull a Tom and just show up and kiss her?”

Sma shrugged. “Yeah. Why don’t you? I mean, it’s worth the shot.”

And it was, maybe it had been the fact that he’d seen Tom and y/n working it out despite everything. Despite being so different, despite having every wall, they were out there tumbling it down. And maybe that’s what led him to be standing behind that door, staring at the daisy he never thought he would ever love but couldn’t think he could live without. For once, Harry had no doubts, for once Harry did not want to be a wallflower everyone took for granted to spread happiness.

“I…” Harry was shaking. But it had to be done and it had to be said. “I… I love you.”

And that was the one outcome Emma had not expected from that whole day. But she gave in anyway, finally giving in to kiss him. And for the first time, she became the sunflower.

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buckysdolls · 4 years ago

Text

Red Dress

One Shot- Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N- So I listened to Taylor Swift’s ‘Wildest Dreams’ whilst writing this an it gave me the inspiration for the whole concept of the fic, certain lyrics represent a certain memory in the reader and Bucky’s relationship. Sorry if it’s not your music taste but I hope you still read it and like it <3

Summary- The reader recalls her memory’s with Bucky as she struggles to cope with his loss due to the snap heard around the world…

Warnings- fluff, sadness, loss, happy ending tho <3

‘I thought, "Heaven can't help me now"

Nothin' lasts forever

But this is gonna take me down

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad but he does it so well’

You’d heard of Bucky, Steve shared multiple happy memories of the times he and Bucky spent together. He only ever painted Bucky in a positive light, Steve always described him as funny, a man of honour and his hero. So, seeing Bucky for the first time was strange, he looked so tired, drained of happiness… worn out. Steve had asked you to join his cause, and you agreed with Steve, the Avengers only ever meant to be helpful and you truly believed in the cause.

“Steve” You heard Sam shout out catching your attention, both you and Steve rushed to the next room where Sam had been keeping an eye on Bucky. You stood with your arms folded over your chest and watched on as Bucky began to stir from a deep slumber. Your heart ached as you watched him, you couldn’t explain it in that moment as to why but apart of you wanted to help him, even if you we’re never going to see him after this. His hair that draped an inch from his shoulders hung over his face, covering his drooping eyes that were starting to open. The stubble on his face hugged his perfectly carved jawline. Though dishevelled he was handsome, an instant attraction had your eyes burned onto him, his bad boy image had your stomach twisting as if butterflies were fluttering all over. Your attraction to this man wasn’t going to end well and you knew it. You watched him look around, his eyes settled on you and all you could do was curve the corners of your lips and smile. He grabbed the metal contraption that was crushing his metal arm, keeping him in place. He looked over again recognising Steve.

“Steve?” his voice was groggy and rough, but soft you could hear the fear and pain in his voice.

“Which Bucky am I talking too?” Steve questioned slowly approaching Bucky, Steve had informed you of the situation Bucky had found himself in, the trauma he’d been through. You found yourself watching intently to watch Bucky’s reaction.

“Your mom’s name was Sarah”

You watched as Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

A small smile crept on the face of Bucky as if he started to remember something.

“You used to wear newspapers in your shoes” Steve knew that he was talking to his Bucky. You watched on as Steve explained to Bucky the trouble he’d caused; your heart sank watching Bucky beat himself up over it.

“It’s nothing we can’t fix together” Your voice was quiet out of kindness as you tried to lift Bucky’s mood, Steve turned to look at you with a smile as Bucky nodded.

“She’s pretty” Bucky mumbled as he motioned his head to you.

“Definitely our Bucky in there” Steve chuckled as he looked over to you. You tried to hide biting your lip as Steve turned to you replacing it with a quick smile, trying to remain silent.

“It’s one of the nicer views I’ve woken up too recently” Bucky moaned as his head fell backwards trying to regain feeling in his body. Steve released him as you and Steve helped him stand up allowing him to control his balance. He was so tall and heavy from his muscular body. The feeling of his flesh hand holding onto you electrocuted you as you looked up from his hand to him. He’d felt it too, the lingering look he gave your hand that clutched onto him before looking into your eyes was magical. Looking into your sparkling eyes made his eyes glimmer the slightest, his face loosened as you watched him try to understand the feelings that were flowing through his veins.

This was the first of many moments you shared with Bucky and you’d never forget what his first words to you were. “She’s pretty”

‘Say you'll remember me

Standin' in a nice dress

Starin' at the sunset, babe’

Steve had trusted you to look out for Bucky in Wakanda as he underwent special treatment. The time you’d spent together was lovely. Watching Bucky flourish in his new surroundings was something you’d never seen before. How one man, so disturbed had grown into a man who could now enjoy a simple, stress free life. He’d confided in you one night, thanking you for showing him the path to happiness in Wakanda and for looking out for him. Never giving up. Once he received his new arm his confidence improved. Time had passed on, you and Bucky were constantly around each other, he wanted you with him, so he knew you were safe, though you were there for Bucky, Bucky felt things he hadn’t felt in the longest time. The thought of loosing the one person who believed in him was devastating…

“What are these?” you pointed to yellow tulips that were sitting in a vase in the middle of the small table that sat in the kitchen.

“Flowers you dummy” Bucky replied as he came up behind you, the hairs on your skin dances as his hands fell on your shoulders with gentle squeezes almost massaging. You loved how traditional Bucky still was, though times had changed, and he’d been through hell and back he always found a way to be a gentleman.

“Why did you get flowers?” You turned to face Bucky who was wearing a nice shirt and shorts with a grin on his face. Though your eyebrows were furrowed that quickly changed once the palm of his hand rested on your right cheek.

Bucky had fallen for you the moment he’d seen you, the moment your words left your mouth was the uplift he needed. You were the reason he knew he needed to get better. You were going to be one to bring him back to life and give him a heart filled with love and affection. The moment he felt your hand in his… he knew. He knew that everything he was going to go through was for you.

Your cheek melted into the palm of his hand as you let your head rest. You wet your lips biting them in the process trying to hold back a smile. Though you and Bucky had never really spoken about the relationship you two had grown, you were always falling asleep in each other’s arms, always laughing together. Giving each other tiny bouts of affection…a kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the top of your hand, a kiss on the forehead before you both lingered touching foreheads enjoying the intimacy.

“Put on a nice dress.”

“Huh?”

“You have an hour to get ready. We need to head out before the sun goes down. No more questions… trust me”

You took your hour to make sure you looked and felt pretty. Your dress was the colour of red roses with tiny white flower patterns, the dress was tight but comfortable as it hugged your curves and the sweetheart neckline lifted your bust, the sleeves hung halfway down your arms as the sleeves rippled. You made your way downstairs to find Bucky holding out his arm for you to hold on to going down the last couple steps of the house you stayed in together. He gently let you go, turning you around and placing his hands over your eyes, you giggled as he did so.

“Bucky? What are you doing?”

“Just walk forward Y/N. I’ll lead you.” You slowly walked forward without your sight everything felt silent just both of your breathing filled the atmosphere. After what seemed ages but was only seconds Bucky spoke.

“I’m going to remove my hands, but keep your eyes closed!”

You squeezed shut your eyes, to stop yourself from peeking, the urge to quickly open them lose them was high. The noise of a door sliding open made you raise your eyebrows. Bucky’s footstep worked their way back to you, the touch of his hands back over your eyes made you jump but smile, you couldn’t hide your excitement. He instructed you to walk again then warned you to take small step down. You felt the cool evening air hit your skin and you could feel the slight breeze of wind dance in your hair. Bucky stopped you and stepped away then slowly allowed you to open your eyes. Bucky was sat on a plethora of blankets and pillows surrounded by picnic food and prosecco. He was smiling his devilishly handsome smile that killed you inside whenever he did it. You took in the view of Wakanda, realising the sun was going down, he patted the ground motioning for you to sit next to him. You were pleasantly surprised and in awe of how perfect Bucky and the whole set up was. You took a seat next to him as you both looked at each other.

“You like it?”

“Like it Bucky? I love it!” You whispered in wonder. You felt the same feeling in your stomach as you did the first time you met Bucky, those damned butterflies. Bucky pulled you closer by your waist scotting you closer to him, his arm laid across your shoulder.

“You looking amazing Y/N” He didn’t look at you when he said it and he took a huge breath of air before saying it, the hesitation in Bucky’s voice was prominent but you could tell it was his nerves.

“Are you nervous Bucky?” You turned your body slightly to face him with a huge smile, realising how shy Bucky was suddenly being. Bucky scrunched up his face before shaking his head then nodding his head and shaking it again. You laughed at his playful yet honest expression.

“Why are you nervous?”

“A beautiful girl, who’s been there for me since I can really remember, a breath-taking sunset… I’m a little nervous”

“You’re the Winter Soldier Bucky…”

“That maybe so but I’m never going to forget seeing you walk down those stairs in this unbelievably amazing dress! I’ll remember you in this dress for the rest of my life”

“I really look that good huh?” You smirked, bumping your body against his, you watched as Bucky gave you a chefs kiss.

You and Bucky enjoyed the rest of the evening as the dusky sunset turned to night, by the end you were wrapped in blankets, settled in between Bucky’s legs, his arms draped over your shoulder talking about everything and anything.

‘His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room

And his voice is a familiar sound

Nothin' lasts forever

But this is gettin' good now’

The door slammed behind you both, though it didn’t distract you. Your mouth clung onto his, every inch of your mouth exploring each other’s. Bucky had you held up against him one arm wrapped around your waist, his hand holding your neck and his other hand tangled in your as you both moaned pulling on it occasionally as he was feeling the pleasure. Each movement of your lips moving in sync feeling deeper and more passionate. Your legs were locked and wrapped around his waist, not wanting to part from his body. His lips left your as he began kissing your neck making you fling your head back enjoying the sweet pleasure of his kisses. The passionate exchange resorted to your bedroom, you stood in front of him as he looked down at you… you were both fully clothed just looking at each other, smiling as you both knew this is what you wanted. he was blown away by your natural beauty and the confidence you exhibited, he leaned down and began to lift your dress, slowly, he was enjoying watching every inch of you be revealed to him, you lifted your hands to allow the dress to come up over your head. Bucky let the dress slip from his hands before undoing the clasp of your bra, the sensual touch of his fingertips on your back made you crave him so much, you wiggled out your underwear, the whole time your eyes never left one another. It was your turn, the pads of your fingers made Bucky moan and smirked as you let your fingers trace up the sides of his core as you lifted his vest up and over. You let your hands fall flat on his chest, lapping up his picturesque physique, as you did this he unbuckled, stepping out of his jeans and boxers. The silence that filled the room as you both looked at each other’s body was fulfilling until you both broke it immediately crashing into each other, reigniting your passionate exchange, Bucky laid you down on the bed, his lips trailed from your lips, along your neck, down your stomach and along your thighs. You moaned arching your back at every kiss, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. You begged him to give you everything and he did. That night of passionate, loving and playful sex was stunning. You were laid in his arms, his lips placing kisses on your head, his finger stroking your bare shoulder. Life was good.

It’s a shame it wouldn’t last forever…

‘And when we've had our very last kiss

But my last request is

Say you'll remember me’

Being reunited with the team after a while was amazing, seeing everyone faces gave this horrific situation a glimpse of happiness. The team didn’t have time to enjoy a reunion or even begin to understand the fact you and Bucky had become a coupe. You all stood on the earth of Wakanda which was now a battlefield. You were Avenger’s it was your job to protect people, and in order to protect those people it was time to protect Vision from Thanos. You watched as these creatures slowly tried to enter through the barricades Wakanda has put up to protect the place. Bucky’s flesh arm was wrapped around your waist as you stood together, his hand settling on your hips. His metal arm holding his most prized weapon. Your arm rested up his back slowly stroking the hairs on his neck. You both didn’t say anything in this moment, you just held onto each other. It was better left unsaid, anything that would be said would hurt more if something happened to either of you. You listened to the plan and saw the barricades come down slowly. You both turned to each other, as a single tear dribbled down your cheek. His thumb wiped it away as he moved your hair over your shoulder letting his hand settle on your neck. You rolled your lips and closed your eyes not wanting to let go of this moment. He couldn’t help but pull you in for a passionate kiss wanting to feel your body against his, your soft sweet lips, giving him hope and love. Pulling away breathless he mouthed ‘I love you’ before running into battle… your heart stopped momentarily as you too found yourself running into battle amongst everyone else.

During the fight you never realised it would be your last kiss… the last time you’d feel Bucky’s hands roam your body, the last time you’d feel his scratchy beard against your skin, the beard you’d grown to love as it tickled your skin whenever he’d kiss you.

Watching Thanos snap his fingers you felt a freezing breeze sweep over you as you laid on the ground feeling broken. You coughed up blood, the pain of broken bones washing over you.

“Steve. Y/N” Your eyes shifted from Thanos to Bucky who appeared from around the corner, a smile appeared on your lips seeing Bucky still alive though clearly riddled with PTSD and pain, his eyes were cold with fright. The smile faded as you began to watch pieces of Bucky begin to rip away and float to the ground in tiny pieces. Your eyes widened in shock unable to comprehend what you were seeing. Steve picked you up along the way as he ran to Bucky, catching him before falling to his knees, pieces of him were slipping through both of your fingers.

“Your red dress… I remember. I’ll see you again” Bucky’s words faded out as he was no longer there. He was gone. Vanished as if he was never alive in the first place. You screamed out in pain, those butterflies in your stomach had crashed into each other and died.

“Bring him back Steve” You cried to him slapping your hands on his chest. Steve cradled as you both watched people fade away into nothingness.

“Bring him back Steve, right now!” You continued to sob your slaps becoming punches repeatedly.

As your cried in pain all you could think about was the first night Bucky had told you how he truly felt about you, that night you watched the sunset, wrapped up in each other bodies.. the night you wore that nice red dress.

‘Say you'll see me again’

5 years had accumulated to his moment… and if it didn’t work, there was no more hope left on this fucking planet you thought. Your thoughts raced about how different your life could have been if Bucky was here, would you be married… would you be a mom? All these options were ripped away from you. You wouldn’t move on, there was no moving on from Bucky. Though Steve encouraged you to do so it was impossible, you reminded Steve that Bucky would never give up on him giving Steve the reality check he needed.

Watching Hulk snap his fingers made your heart stop and your eye become glass like as pools of water covered your eyes. You let those butterflies gradually begin fluttering in the pitch of your stomach. You looked outside the big glass windows to see colour, trees fully grown, flowers in bloom and the sun shining.

Round 2 proved to be even worse, less of you fighting was daunting, beginning to feel impossible. You’d managed to bring yourself to your feet and head to the battlefield to stand in line with Steve. You both exchanged looks, he knew you were shattered into a million pieces and if this didn’t work he knew you were gone. You knew he was broken and had nothing left to give. A cracked voice spoke over the earpieces you guys had put in…

“On your left” your eyes frantically searched the skies, your body twisting left to right to catch a glimpse of him, you knew it was Sam. There was no noise just utter silence amongst the destruction, you and Steve shot each other hopeful looks. Time felt as though it stopped as you saw Sam fly over bringing with him a gust of wind as he settled down next to Steve. You bit your lip as Sam nodded at you, he motioned his head for you to look behind. A lump in your throat formed as you couldn’t hold in your tears anymore… thousands of orange spiralling circles floated round you and Steve. You mouth hung open before your cried silently allowing your lips to turn into the biggest smile you’d exposed in 5 years. Bucky walked out from one of the circles with a grin. You turned back around not able to look at him, you wanted to compose yourself. The touch of his hand resting on your waist sent simultaneous shivers down your spine, you found yourselves in the same position as before. Your sides touching and his hand gripping so tightly on your waist. You finally turned your heads to look at each other, his god damn smile.

“I told you I’d see you again” Bucky squeezed you into his side as he let his head fall on to your neck sighing in relief.

“You did” You laughed through your tears as you lifted his head up from your shoulder letting your foreheads rest together.

“You…that night… your red dress… was all I thought about” You could hear Bucky’s vulnerability through the muffled and breathless tone of voice. You shhh’d him planting the tiniest kiss on his lips, those butterflies in your stomach fluttering in full force.

#bucky fluff #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #the avengers #avengers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #the winter soldier #the white wolf

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theveryconfusedartistsart-blog · 2 years ago

Note

Frisk: Before you leave, can you at least tell me why?

Az: …I never had the option your Flowey, your Asriel, had. I was never given a soul like he did. We tried so many things together, but no matter what we did, it always came back to the same answer: there is only one solution that works with 100% certainly, a constant in both our timelines.

Frisk: …

Az: I thought I could live with being a hollow shell forever, but you kept trying to save me, again, and again, and I couldn't understand why. I still can't understand why. I hurt so many people. I hurt you. I abused your trust, twist the knife, and rubbed salt into the would, and yet you still came for me. It's nauseating to think you're willing to go through so much for me after that. I couldn't love, but I could feel the aching gape of its absence, and it kept getting bigger every time you tried to help me. It became intolerable. Every day, I was reminded why I wanted my true form back. I was so…so…so tired of being an empty flower. I wanted to live. No matter what it took. I wanted to know what it was like, to once gain feel for someone so much you would do anything for them, to know what it was like to love you as you did me.

Frisk: …I see.

Az: …I have a confession to make Frisk. I am not a good person. I. Hate. Humanity. I did things to them Flowey could never manage with monsters. No amount of resets will ever get rid of the memories from my head, how it changed who I am. I'm not your Asriel, and I will never be like him or the boy you first met ever again. Me leaving is probably the best thing I can do for the three of us.

Frisk: Can you…can you at least tell me they're not all stuck like this forever?

Az: No! Of course not! I've been searching for a solution for so long! Hell, I was just about to use one when I ended up in this place where I'm still stuck as a stupid flower! It's stupid! He's stupid! He's…he's so much better than I can ever be for you, for your son. He didn't sacrifice his family, he didn't throw away the happy ending he gave everyone, he didn't turn his back on you for the sake of power itself. I did. I did because I thought it was the only way I can be happy. It should be him that has a true form, not me.

Frisk: …Okay. I think I understand now. There's just one last thing I want from you.

Az: And that is?

* Frisk glomps Az in a hug.

Az: Wha-? Why!? Do you know how many times I killed you?! The ones you love!?

Frisk: Are they still dead?

Az: And make you hate me? No! They're alive and breathing like nothing happened, and they're taking care of your alternate self as we speak.

Frisk: Then nothing has changed. You might still be the same horrible person that tried to kill me every time we met in the Underground, but you're also the same boy that cried at the prospect of being alone again. It's just…stretched out for a much longer time on a grander scale. For all the terrible things you've done, you undid all that pain and destruction, and no one will have to suffer from it anymore. I might never understand why you do these things, but I just know that whatever you've done, right now you're trying to be a good person, no matter how jagged your path may be. It's not my place to forgive you, but I'm willing to bet your Frisk will. Plus, as terrible a situation this is, there's one upside I only got to do only one time.

Az: What's that?

Frisk: I get to hug every monster at once through you!

*Az breaks into tears

Az: I…I…Frisk you absolute moron. What did Flowey and I ever do to deserve you?

💖🖤

#This is wonderful #However what made you assume Az doesn't have a soul??#Friskiel

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isoldmysoultojonahclemence · 3 years ago

Text

JONAH’S EVER AFTER ON IKEREV TW

I CAN’T I--

HIS RELEASE CAMPAIGN CAME OUT YESTERDAY BUT I ONLY SAW IT A FEW MINUTES AGO BC I WAS ON VACATION I CAN’T BELIEVE I MISSED THIS WHAT KIND OF JONAH STAN AM I

THIS MEANS THAT JONAH’S ROUTE CAMPAIGN WILL BEGIN SOMEWHERE AROUND LATE OCTOBER OR EARLY NOVEMBER IN THE ENGLISH VERSION SO MARK YOUR CALENDARS

I’m putting the rest of this under a cut for length bc I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY

[Translation:

“On the 1 in a hundred million chance that I cannot marry you into the Clemence family, then I’m prepared to abandon my family.”

Whether it’s to build a family together, or to receive happiness together. For the one you love, the path you should take to the future is...

“You’re really too much. Don’t say something like...I’m sorry.”

The eyes that are brighter than the fireworks in the sky overflow with tears, and turn into strength to overcome the mirror blocking our path.

“When it’s only the two of us, I’m just Jonah...and I want to spoil you as much as I like.”]

ASDFKJWEIH;KAFJJE;LSAKFSD

I CAN ALREADY SENSE THE ABSOLUTE ANGST IN THIS ROUTE

IN HIS ORIGINAL ROUTE HE HAS TO ABANDON THE RED ARMY AND NOW IN HIS EVER AFTER HE HAS TO ABANDON HIS FAMILY TOO????? ESPECIALLY AS WE ALL KNOW HOW MUCH THE CRIMSON LINEAGE MEANS TO HIM??????????????????

And something I also really like is how the themes from the original route extends into his sequel, like the parts about “never apologizing” and “I can only be myself when I’m with you.” It just makes it feel more like a sequel and adds a better sense of completion uwu

ALSO JONAH’S TEARS ARE GOING TO DESTROY ME Y’ALL WILL SEE ME SOBBING ON TUMBLR WHEN I GET TO THAT PART

Here’s the mini talk list:

Luka + Sirius: please tell me about your families!

This one is already out, so here’s the screenshots!

[Translation:

Sirius: My home is always full of flowers, it’s a place that makes your mood lift.

Luka: Yeah...as opposed to Sirius’s family, mine was very quiet.

Luka: Even though it had always been pretty quiet...but ever since “that person” left home, it became even quieter.

Luka: Maybe it was because my family weren’t interested in me, so that’s why it feels so quiet.

Sirius: Haven’t you ever had experiences of playing noisily with Jonah in your home before?

Luka: No. We’re different from Sirius’s family...but there was only one time.

Luka: When I was young, that person had brought me out secretly before.

Luka: The both of us ran around and played in the secret courtyard that person found...

Luka: Until the skies grew dark.

Sirius: ...Is that so. Where is that courtyard full of memories? Is it close to your home?

Luka: I don’t know, I can’t remember...but, it doesn’t matter if I can’t remember it.

Luka: Now I think...it’s alright if that courtyard only exists in my memory.]

*deep breath*

ALKL;KCVKNCKDSA;KWOIWQOIK;FDMX;LZDS;ALKSJFA;LKJ

AKD;XJCEWQ8RJEIU;ANFVDFJSVVF’WDOIJ

;NWEFFKKGDMZXCKCERTIIUIBRI;JDSFJSMF;JLAEKF;LEQKJBNCM

FIRST OF ALL

A SECRET COURYARD???????? THAT JONAH FOUND?????????????? AND BROUGHT LUKA THERE TO PLAY???????????????????????? BUT ONLY ONCE???????????????????????????????????

I wonder how he managed to find it? But also it was to be expected that he would bring Luka bc he always wants to share what he loves with Luka (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

Also just imagine the little Clemence bros running around and playing (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡ ♡ ♡

But like...

OH MY GOD LUKA WHAT HAVE YOU GONE THROUGH ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

It’s so sadddddddd to think that the Clemence house got even quieter when Jonah left. Also I can’t figure out if Jonah “leaving” means that he left to go to boarding school or if he left to join the Red Army, but that was probably when Luka started to hate Jonah for abandoning him. I can’t imagine what it’s like to grow up in such a quiet and cold place and to have it grow even quieter and colder when the one person you thought cared about you left because now he has other things that are more important than you (/□＼*)・゜

Edgar + Kyle: can love between people of different social statuses exist?

The rest of these aren’t released at the moment I wrote this, so I’m mainly just going to be addressing my predictions!

So it’s clear that Jonah and MC are considered to be from different social ranks, even though MC is “Alice the Second” and has the power to nullify magic. She’s probably considered as a “commoner” in the Red Territory, so I can see why it would be difficult for Jonah and MC to get married.

And you know what else this reminds me of??? If we look at Seth’s route, we finally find out that the whole reason Cradle got divided into two was because a Red noble fell in love with a girl from a different social rank. And that romance tore a country apart, so.

Dean + Dalim: about family

Aight here we go. Are Dean and Dalim really family??? Do we finally get to find out??? Or at least get some sort of clue??? Bc I’m torn between the theory that they’re twins with amnesia or if Dean was some sort of clone created by the Magic Tower when they experimented on Dalim. And I have no idea when their routes are gonna be released, so I really hope we get more hints throughout each Ever After route.

Lancelot: Jonah’s tears

THIS IS THE SECOND MINI TALK THAT WILL DESTROY ME AFTER THE LUKA + SIRIUS ONE.

Also this is a reminder that Lancelot was probably the only one who has seen Jonah at his weakest before MC came along. It’s probably to be expected, since they’ve known each other for literally more than half their lives and also since Lancelot saved Jonah.

And technically Luka has known Jonah for the longest time, but I doubt that Jonah will ever show weakness in front of Luka because he considers himself as Luka’s protector, but it’s different in front of Lance. I feel like he can show his weaker side to Lance, and it just emphasizes how deep the relationship between them is.

SO GET READY FOR THE JONALOT FEELS WHEN THIS ONE COMES OUT.

Jonah: what is your ideal proposal?

OK I feel like this one is either gonna be super romantic or super cheesy. Or both, considering the type of person that Jonah is. But I’m gonna love it no matter what bc 1) Jonah can make even the most embarrassing situations funny and touching and 2) I’m too weak for my mille-feuille boi.

The screenshots for the “Peek at Romance” thing is here:

[Translation:

My dear Queen of Hearts, Jonah Clemence.

Jonah: In that party, every heir of the Clemence family will...

Jonah: Publicly introduce his fiancee, receive the acknowledgment and blessing of the whole clan, and finally step into the halls of marriage.

“What is a happy ending?”

--It’s when, the person who cannot be replaced becomes family.

Luka: Even though my brother is troublesome, and sometimes overly enthusiastic, but from now on please take care of him.

--It’s when, you become allies with the person you met.

Levie: Who hurt MC!? I’ll destroy that guy...!

Jonah: Calm down, Levie Castell. See who’s your true enemy clearly!

When he couldn’t provide an answer, it made tears overflow from his eyes.

And--while looking for an answer, it’s also possible to lose something.

Dalim: Thanks. Goodbye, princess.

Dean: I couldn’t ask any of the things I’ve been wondering before he ran...

But even so, we will still advance forward bravely.

This is all to receive the answer--to have a happy ending.

Jonah: From now on, everyone will see you as...

Jonah: The Queen of Heart’s...and also the head of the Clemence family’s wife.

Jonah: But, when there’s no one else, and when it’s just us two.

Jonah: We’ll become Jonah and MC again, and we can love each other as much as we like.

Jonah: I love you, MC.

No matter what happens, he, who is the most beautiful and pure in the world...

Will only accept a future that is even better than a happy ending...!]

I just...literally cannot express my love for this summary.

First of all I’m just gonna talk about the tone. Right off the bat MC calls him “my dear Queen” and it was just. So. CUUUUUUUUUUTE.

Also, the question and theme of “a happy ending” is brought up, and the rest of the sneak peek answers that question (it’s when the people you love become your family and the people you meet becomes your allies), but also explores how they could find those answers (Jonah crying when he couldn’t find an answer and advancing forward bravely because they just want their happy ending). And finally we finish it off with a super Jonah-like statement, announcing that he’ll accept no less than the most perfect ending of them all!

Moving on to the information revealed...it’s pretty cool how there’s a special party for the next head of the Clemence family when they’re ready to announce their marriage and gain approval. Also, it’s kinda wild to think that Jonah will eventually become a head of the family just like his father and his grandfather before that.

AND THE PART WITH LUKA AND LEVIE ARE LITERALLY SO ADORABLE. LIKE, LUKA INSULTING JONAH BUT ALSO LEAVING HIM TO MC AND LEVIE DEFENDING MC FROM PPL WHO WOULD HARM HER IS 10/10 PERFECT

Also it seems that Dean and Dalim’s backstories might be explored more but won’t be resolved just yet. I guess we really do have to wait until their routes get released to find out.

In short, this was an amazing summary of the route. WHY DO I HAVE TO WAIT ANOTHER MONTH UNTIL I CAN FINALLY READ THE WHOLE THING???????????????????????????

Also FYI, this is all completely new to me. For the other characters’ sequels, I played it through on Ikerev JP bc I can’t wait until the releases in the TW and English version that’s like, a year later. But I didn’t read Jonah’s sequel bc my Japanese isn’t super good and I wanted to read my man’s story in a language that I can completely understand so I literally have no idea of what to expect apart from what I found out in the campaign release :3

Also also I’m probably gonna be posting for every part in the story I’m going through BC I JUST LOVE JONAH THAT MUCH. I guess it would make up for my inactivity this month ^^;

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #jonah clemence #ikerev jonah #jonah's sequel #ever after #i SCREECHED when i saw the announcement #no joke #i thought it would only come out during september #so that was definitely a pleasant surprise #i need to quickly stock up on story tickets this month #i only have around 45 rn #which means i can only read 9 parts at once #THAT IS SIMPLY NOT ENOUGH

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bangtanshomura · 3 years ago

Text

PINK | 2/? | pjm

summary: A neighbor as pink and hopelessly romantic as you and an equally pink neighbor like Jimin (but without a thing or two in common), sounds almost perfect together, right?. The only problem? That you are madly in love with him but his tonalities are very different from yours.

pairing: park jimin x female reader.

genre: fluff, angst, (maybe in the future a little of smut? not so sure).

word count: 1992

warning: unrequited love, pinning, so much embarrassment, a looooot of pink hehe, hurt, some mxm with ot7, you know…it happens sometimes.

------

Pink, 'cause you are so very

“Sup with the face, sugar?” Seokjin’s voice pulls you back to reality. Or maybe was Jimin’s text.

“Jimin asked me if he should go on a date with the pretty girl of the coffee shop across the street”

“You are a pretty girl” He points you with a finger, looking at you harshly. “And Jimin always says stupid things, so please, don’t overthink this”

“But I'm not the pretty girl he would consider asking out on a date” your voice is almost a whisper, so genuinely hurt that Seokjin can't help the tug at his heart.

“Well, his loss, I’m telling you” He scoffs “He will see you someday—” Tucks a lock of hair behind your ear with an affectionate smile. “ like, really see you. And I hope it's not too late when that happens”

Everyone knows what a wonderful person you are, including Park Jimin.

The only person who apparently lacks this information is you.

And it's not that Seokjin has any feelings of hatred and contempt towards the now black-haired boy; but he didn’t appreciate the way he lured you to him and then pushed you away.

Actually, even if Namjoon thinks otherwise, he is absolutely certain that there is some reason why Jimin's colors look somewhat... dull.

There must be a reason why despite the subtle -quite obvious in Seokjin's opinion- attraction Jimin feels for you, he doesn't let it develop but also doesn't let it stop.

Seokjin just knows it's like that, it's a feeling,

“I love you so much Jinnie, but I don't want to talk about this anymore” You leave a small kiss in his cheek before you continue talking. “Are you coming for some unhealthy dinner tonight?”

“You know that we will, baby” The wink it throws at you makes you giggle “Namjoon will pick us up ten minutes before we close the store, safety an all, you know my man” You both laugh a little. “Any suggestions?”

“I'm craving a cheeseburger from McDonald’s”

“A cheeseburger from McDonald's will be” It’s a reality, they don’t know how to say no to you. And they don’t want to. “Now, help me with this arrangement, I have never met a bride as demanding as this girl. I swear”

______

"Just when I think you can't get any more idiotic, you come along and surprise me Jimin."

Yoongi’s raspy voice makes him roll his eyes.

“What are you talking about now?”

“You know what. Don’t play dumb with me” He signals his phone with a movement of the head and scolds him with his eyes. Translation: He read the messages. “You can’t keep doing this to her.”

Jimin looked out the window again, exchanging glances with the barista who batted her eyelashes flirtatiously, gifting him a smile that he returned with a smaller one of his own.

She's pretty, he had to admit that. But neither her flirtatious smile nor her long, stylish hair, managed to provoke anything in him.

Not like his small, pink, innocent neighbor.

A sigh left his lips and he returned his gaze to his phone.

“I know”

______

“Are we hungry or what?”

Namjoon enters the shop with his extra-large arms extended, prepare to wrap you two in a bear hug.

“We are always hungry; you already know that hun”

Seokjin takes his face in between his hands with so much delicacy that you want to cry but instead you fake a gagging noise that makes them chuckle and you smile fondly to the presence of their love.

“Let’s go before you suffocate me with so much PDA” You give them a weak smile walking towards the entrance, in a crestfallen manner.

The taller one knows there is something in your voice that doesn't fit the facade you want to sell him, so, he looks to his boyfriend direction with a raised brow and an interrogation mark painted on its face.

His boyfriend answers him with a silent lip movement, a name, clarifying the situation.

Of course, it had to be.

“I cross paths with Jungkook this morning”

“Really? How is he?” Your question doesn’t come as curious as his want’s to, but he keeps anyways.

“You know, hotter than before” Seokjin watches him curious while locking the gate of the flower shop, eyebrow arching and he clarifies his voice. “I might have invited him to dinner today”

Okay, he may not have invited him, but they did crossed paths in a convenience store while the younger one was carrying a bag full of banana milk.

But he will.

“…You did?”

The hesitation in your voice gives him a push.

“Yeah, I mean, is it wrong?”

————

You should have known.

How is it possible that a specimen like Jeon Jungkook exists and on top of that, he is single.

Damn Kim Namjoon and damn his twisted plan or whatever that goes through his prodigy brain.

“You could have warned me that he looked like that!”

“Boring” Namjoon prolonged the ‘o’ “I don’t see what’s wrong. He is hot, you are hot, he is single, you are single. A win-win situation if you ask me”.

“But I didn’t”.

“Irrelevant. We are having an amazing night y/n. You know that I’m not going to force you on a date with Jungkook but I want you to enjoy this moment with me, with us”.

“I am enjoying the moment, excuse you” You murmur.

“No your not. You think that I didn’t see the sadness in your eyes?”

“Nam…”

“No baby, not today” He takes a deep breath and looks at you with so much love and concern. “Please”

Deep inside, you know he is right, that you need a night of rest from the problem in your heart that has Park Jimin as its name.

Jungkook is funny, sweet, attentive and Namjoon isn't lying when he says the four of you are having a spectacular night.

You can see it in your best friend's eyes, the desperation to see you well, happy.

So, you agree.

“But!—” Namjoon waits for whatever that you are going to say “What the fuck with those tattoos? And the piercing? He can’t be real, you created him”

He lets out a thunderous laugh as he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Girl, I know”

______

“Thank you so much for having me tonight y/n”

“Oh, no, no” You blush. He chuckles, watching you trying to burn holes in the door of the apartment in front of yours to avoid his gaze. “I-I…eh…Thank you! T-Thank you for coming, like, here, to my house, obviously…oh my god”

You want to slap your face for making a fool of yourself in front of another extremely hot man.

And then, he smiles.

And it's not a smirk or a chuckle that can be interpreted as "I know what I’m doing to you."

It's genuine.

He’s giving you his adorable bunny smile.

“Cute”

If he is about to say something else besides what your brain translated as a compliment, a voice coming from the elevator at the end of the hall momentarily distracts you from it.

“Hey pink”

Although Jimin's greeting is for you, his eyes are intently fixed on the male figure next to you, who watches him curiously.

“Jiminie, you are at home”

Jungkook's eyes travel quickly from Jimin to you, who -with incredible speed for someone so small- runs into the arms of the black-haired boy standing in front of the elevator door.

The gears in his brain working at full power, stopping abruptly when this guy drops the bags he was carrying on the floor so he can wrap his arms around your waist, still throwing daggers in his direction.

Then the realization hits him, and his lips let out an amused chuckle.

This guy must see him as a threat and being honest, he could be.

If you'd let him, that is.

“Yoongi didn't let me escape early, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to dinner with you”

The butterflies in your belly do a triple loop at his words.

"It's okay, I understand" You say turning around but not before grabbing one of the bags lying on the floor and incidentally, the hand he keep unoccupied by the other bags, you turn to Jungkook with a smile "Jungkookie, this is Jiminie, my neighbor!"

“Hi, Jiminie the neighbor”

Jungkook extends his hand offering it in a cordial greeting, while Jimin examines him completely to finally put down the bags and shake it without separating his hand that is holding yours.

“Just Jimin”

You don't quite understand why they seem to be having a battle to the death with just their eyes, in the middle of the hallway, while Mrs. Kim passes by and watches the scene with curiosity.

You give her a somewhat apologetic smile and make a small bow before -trying- to take a step to get closer to Jungkook.

Try, because the moment Jimin detected movement on your part, he pulled your hand with a little force -without hurting you of course-, to return you to his side.

Jungkook catches between his lips the mocking laughter that wants to escape from his chest and instead returns his gaze to you, smiling softly.

"I'd love to stay and get to know 'Just Jimin' a little more, but I'm afraid it's a little late" You can watch from the corner of your eye as Jimin rolls his eyes and turns to the side with a pout on his lips.

Weird.

Not the tantrum, you've seen it multiple times.

The moment. Yeah, that's weird.

"Actually, yes. It's late. Jungkookie from college" Jimin says dryly

For some reason your brain fails to organize its ideas and thoughts, they're all scattered all over the floor of what you assume is the control room in your head.

"Sure" Jungkook replies without looking at him, taking a step to get closer to you, snapping you out of your thoughts "Really, thanks for tonight, y/n"

Jimin knows, he can feel it.

His cheeks must be red and his forehead must have the biggest scowl in history.

Because, who does he think he is, Jungkookie from college, to hug you like that?

Even when his hand is intertwined with yours!.

"Oh" Jungkook's warm embrace brings you back to your senses completely. unconsciously letting go of Jimin's hand to return the gesture with affection "Thank you for coming, I hope Namjoon didn't force you to come all the way here."

"Not at all. Actually, I'd love to meet with you guys again."

When you part, Jimin makes his presence noticeable again, taking your hand quickly with a huff.

------

"I thought only Namjoon and Jin were coming for dinner?"

Jimin lets the question out casually, wishing it wasn't too obvious his need for information from the - apparently - new member of your group.

"Oh, yeah, Namjoon found Jungkook by chance and invited him over for old times' sake."

He can see how you arrange some cans in his cupboard, as if you know the place by heart.

Leaning on his kitchen counter, a smile moves over his lips at the domesticity of the moment.

How can you look so pretty and pink, doing something as mundane as stocking his pantry?

And it's this very thought that forces him to take control of the situation. Because he knows that what happened in the hallway a few minutes ago must have confused you even if you don't show it to him.

And it's not something he can afford.

"I see" Running his hand through his hair -a habit he doesn't intend to abandon-, he starts rummaging through another shopping bag as he continues "Did you read my messages?"

He can see you cease your movements and stand still with a bag of candy in one hand.

"I-I..."

"Nevermind" He Interrupts you "Yoongi advised me on one or two things that might be useful."

"He did?"

No.

But you can't know that.

"Yeah, he did."

------

A/N:

For the people who read the first part, I'm sorry for the delay but I've been going through an unexpected and difficult time, so I promise to make up for the lost time. In the meantime I'll leave this chapter here and I hope you enjoy it and again, I'm really sorry!

#park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #park jimin #jeon jeongkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim taehyung #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bangtan fic #bts fic

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