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spicy30 · 3 months ago

Text

Modernness of 1400s 002

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

cw: Misinformation, cannon-typical violence, drinking

Rating: 13+

Not proofread

WC: 5.4k

Walking down the long corridors of the Jacaerys watched you from the corner of his eye. His eyes wandered to your clothing and he felt his face heat up. It was quite revealing. Your top did not cover your arms and the sides of it well, it exposed even more skin. Your cleavage was visible from any angle. You wore what he assumed was some kind of bracelet, though there was a black square on it. Then on your fingers you were silver and gold rings. If you had access to this kind of jewelry despite being common born, then perhaps you were not. You also seemed to be unusually educated for a woman despite your manner of speaking. Along with that your neck sported two necklaces, one gold, another silver and your ears were decorated with what he assumed were pearl earrings. No one of common born status should be able to afford the jewelry you had.

You turned your head to look at the young man who looked at you. You watched him turn away swifting avoid your eyes. You murmured an “okay” before jogging to the front of his mother.

As you went forward, your scent hit his nose and he found himself leaning forward every so slightly trying to inhale more. It was sweet, but not like the perfumes that were used. This smelled…he couldn’t describe but Jacaerys desperately wanted to smell it more. As he leaned forward he nearly tripped. He heard laughter beside him. Luke.

They both looked at each other before looking ahead at your backside. It was very pronounced with the trousers you wore. They were a gray color, tight around your thighs and bottom showing your figure, then loose towards the bottom. Both boys stared before looking back at each other. Luke grinned and pushed Jacaerys. He grinned back and pushed Luke.

Standing next to the Princess she eyed you from the side of her eye.

“Ehm, Princess? Where are we going?” You asked, walking next to her.

“To my father, see if you can heal him.” As she spoke you held your breath. It was clear they hadn’t yet discovered oral hygiene.

“If I can’t?” You were afraid of the answer to come. You just wanted to go home and let your family know you were okay. The bottom line was, you needed to get home. The rest of your life was ahead of you and you would rather not spend it here. Especially if they didn’t have modern medicine. Sure you had romanticized the pretty dresses of medieval times but that didn’t mean you wanted to live here. Proper hygiene, modern medicine, the internet. You’d never survive without any of it.

“You die.” Daemon spoke. Your eyes widened and you stopped.

“What!? Now hold on!” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Who are you to make the decision? I have plenty of other things to offer!”

“He is my husband. Prince Daemon.” The Princess answered.

You sighed in defeat. “Listen, there is so much more to me than just medicine. Besides, I am not a pre-med student. My knowledge is limited. I’m much better in biology and math, and…and english. I can give explanations half the time, but I don’t know if I can cure him. You guys don’t even have antibiotics, or even vaccines!” As they listen to you speak words that were unknown to them Daemon grabbed your face with his hand to shut you up.

“You can either do what you are told, or your head comes off.” He spoke and he watched your eyes widen in fear. Daemon watched you look around as if pleading for someone to save you. There was no one who would help you. Finally you gave a silent nod telling him that you would do your best.

“Jace, Luke, go to your chambers.” Rhaenrya spoke as they reached her father’s room. A small protest was made but eventually the boys left, leaving you alone with Daemon and Rhaenrya.

Stepping into the room you gagged. It smelled like rot in there and immediately you stepped out holding your arm to your nose. “Oh goodness!” Breathing in your own scent you looked to your right to see the woman in green walking towards you. You nodded your head slightly in acknowledgment and she did the same with a questioning look. She stepped inside and finally took in one final breath you stepped inside. It was a grim sight. Helpers in white dabbed the sickly King with water. For a moment you wonder if they did have clean water.

Stepping closer and looking at the disgusting sight, you find yourself wishing that you had worn something more covering. You’d rather jump into the cold water again than touch whatever it is the King had. There were like lesions all over. You felt your hair stand on end and you gave a shiver. There was a reason you never went into the medical field. Besides of course the amount of medicines you had to memorize, things like this, you would never be able to do.

It reminded you of a certain movie you watched. What was he called? The leopard king? No, it caused similar injuries. “Leprosy!” You spoke in disgust and you backed away. “Damn damn!” You shook your hands as if trying to get it away from you. You didn’t know how to cure leprosy! Even if you did, the material they have isn't good enough. If anything, that man was on his deathbed. You guess it would be in a couple weeks till he succumbed, maybe earlier. People like this only tend to hang on when they have something they want to accomplish.

You sighed. Turning to the woman in the green dress, Daemon and the Princess you shook your head.

“Uh…can I talk to immediate family members?” You meant the Princess. They all nodded and all three walked out. “Uh only relatives.” You spoke again.

“He is my brother.” “I am his wife.” Both came out simultaneously from Daemon and the woman in green, or in other words the Queen. You made a face. She seemed far too young for the old man, and if Daemon was his brother, wouldn’t that mean he’s the Princess's uncle?

“Ehm, I thought she was your wife?” You asked, looking towards Daemon.

“She is.” It was a simple response but you could not wrap your head around it.

“And you two are married?” Your brow lifted in confusion. Daemon nodded and you shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose. “That cannot be good for genetics.”

“Genetics?” The Queen spoke beside you.

“Yes, what you pass to your children. Genotypes and phenotypes. Genotypes are the genetic make-up one has, and phenotypes are the physical features one possesses. Incest doesn’t make for the best….anyways a lesson for another day.” You waved it off before you ushered them outside.

Alicent looked at you and the gears started to turn in her head. If this ‘genetics’ was accurate…

“Do you really mean to kill me if I can’t cure him?” Alicent heard you ask quietly and she narrowed her eyes towards Daemon as he gave a knowing look.

“Well then I suggest you start preparing two caskets.” Your tone was grim. You looked towards Rhaenyra. “You are the eldest?” You asked her and she nodded. “Well, start mourning your losses, you will be Queen soon. There is nothing I can do for him, perhaps disinfect his wounds with alcohol but that's the best I can offer. Along with that…” You kept your eyes on Daemon watching his every move. “I suggest you either boil anything he has touched or burn it. Leprosy is contagious. Put a mask on him, it assures that germs don't spread. If you have any cuts on you, or your skin is broken, don’t touch him.” You spoke in low-tones. Of course you didn’t really plan to die, but you had to find a way to get out of here and fast.

“Then you have come to the end of your use.” Daemon's hand curled around the hilt of his sword. You turned your gaze to the hallways, but Daemon was blocking the path. Looking down towards as he began to pull out his sword. Before you could register what you were doing your body acted on instinct and pushed his sword back into its sheath. You pushed the entirety of your body weight to combat his strength. You refused to die here in a medieval hell. His other hand came to wrap around your neck. You took a hold of the hand you were pushing down and bent his thumb backwards. He yelled and backhanded you. You groaned and held your face. Licking your lip you tasted blood. As you looked up, your eyes widened in fear as you saw a sword lifted above you. You closed your eyes and waited for the pain.

“Hold your sword!” You heard a yell and you opened your eyes to see a hand shielding you. Then you heard a clatter of the sword he was holding and groaning, shaking his hand. “I will not have you strike her down.” The Queen spoke. “You are dismissed.” She spoke as she turned away from them to face you.

A long pause took place as both you and Daemon glared at each other. You heard a slight murmur before he turned to walk away Rhaenyra holding his injured hand. You kept your glare on him until he disappeared from view. However, it was replaced by a hand coming to reach for your face. You flinched away. You’d rather not be touched and contract leprosy, that means you can’t even touch your lip, even as you feel a drop of blood rolling down your chin. You licked it to stop it from falling onto your shirt.

“You can’t touch me, we’re unsanitary. I have to shower…or bathe I suppose.” You spoke in a low-tone and the Queen nodded ignoring the strange wording.

“I will call for you once you are finished. I have some things I want to discuss with you.” Alicent would need your work on genetics. If what you said was true, Alicent could not allow a bastard to be named heir to the throne, or the possibility of her children being in danger. If calling upon your knowledge is what it took, she would do so.

The Queen dismissed you and asked for servants to prepare you a bath. You walked away with the servants and a personal guard she assigned you. As your servant led you to whatever quarters you were staying at, you admired the architecture of the castle. It was breathtaking. As you were looking around you caught sight of the man with the eye-patch and his brother with a bottle in his hand. You looked at them with a blank face before looking away, though you did not miss their lingering eyes, more specifically, their lingering eyes on your bloody lip.

…

“They will use her to question Jace and Luke’s parentage.” Rhaenrya spoke as she paced while Daemon rubbed his forearm, the pain had traveled from just his thumb to the entire forearm. He had spent the better part of the walk back to the room cursing your name. “She is not from here Daemon. If she is right about my fathers death? They will take her words if she is able to discover-” She didn’t let herself finish.

“Anyone could predict that my brother will perish soon. In any case if she does say such things, then she will meet the same fate as Vaemond. The cunt only managed to injure me because I did not think she would fight.” Daemon reasoned watching his wife look down towards his hand with a worried look.

“Even so, if what she says is true…then we should stay in King’s Landing until then.” Rhaenrya sighed as she bent down to hold her husband’s hand to begin bandaging it.

…

You scrubbed feverishly at your arms and skin hoping it would be enough to get rid of the germs. It would really suck if you died from leprosy. It was such an ugly way to go, and this bruise on your lip was already ugly enough for you. Damn Daemon and damn every other woman beater in this castle. However, you did feel a bit better in this water and now that you have gotten your things back. You couldn't believe your luck that the suitcase that brought you down just so happened to be the one with all the sanitary items in them. When you saw your soaps and shampoos you nearly fell on your knees thanking whatever deity was out there.

However, you never did get any of your clothes back and this suitcase only had limited options, it only really had one or two outfits to wear along with some undergarments. But! Beggars can’t be choosers.

Rinsing your hair and body you stepped out and put on a robe. Unfortunately, you did not bring a towel. You dug through your suitcase pulling out lacy underwear and a lace bralette. “Y’know when I said I wanted crazy things to happen, I didn’t mean this crazy.” You murmured as you put them on.

As you finished clasping the final hook you heard a knock then the door opening. “Woah!” You yelled as you covered your top half. The man who held the bottle from before entered with a smile.

“Is this what women wear where you’re from?” He looked you up and down.

“Get out!” You urged as you covered yourself with a robe.

“Here.” He tossed you your purse. “Mother sent me to give it to you.” He gave you one last look before smiling and walking out.

You scoffed and dropped the robe. Only then did you really grasp what you had in your hand. Your purse. You unzipped it and looked through it. You felt a familiar rectangular shape and you smiled and pulled it out.

“Thank you! To whatever god there is or whoever you are! Thank you!” You shook your phone happily. “And you!” You spoke to your phone as you powered it on. “Thank you for being water-proof!” As you powered it on, it was at seventy-five percent. It was good enough. You opened maps, though only the downloaded parts cap up. Cursing you saw you had no signal. You sighed and pulled your hair back in desperation. What good was a phone if you couldn’t call anyone?

You threw yourself on your bed whining. “Someone played me ultraviolence.” Just then you shot up. “Wait!” You grabbed your phone and went through the songs you downloaded before you crashed. Finding the song you giggled as you pressed play and threw yourself onto your bed as the song played.

“This is so aesthetic.” You sighed. You felt like you could be an album cover as this song played. Here you lay on a fur bed in your lingerie in an old castle with a bruised lip. As the song came to an end you stood up and turned off your phone. It would be best to save the battery. As you hummed the tune you looked towards the dress you were supposed to wear. Your attire you suppose was a bit inappropriate for the times. However, as you lifted the dress you questioned how exactly you were going to put this on.

So for the next two hours you spent trying to put on the dress.

…

As Alicent sat in silence beside her father she leaned over and whispered in a servant's ear. “Summon her.” It was a quick command and Alicent watched as the servant girl left.

“If she's right about Viserys, then it can be used to prop Aegon as king.” Otto muttered near Alicent. “Only if she can prove without a doubt that Rhaenrya’s children are bastards.” Alicent responded as she looked towards the dark hair boys who now spoke to their betrotheds.

Alicent sat still waiting for your arrival. Though Viserys only wanted family, she figured he wouldn’t mind the small addition of you. Finally the doors opened and there you stood with a determined look and suddenly Alicent was transported back to when she first made her stance. The pressure and eyes she felt when she first wore her green dress. Now you walked with the same green dress with arguably the most important eyes on you.

You glowed under the light, almost unnaturally so. Your features seemed enhanced, and your skin seemed impossibly smooth. An almost perfect blush coated your face and your lips shone as if they were covered in honey. Your eyelashes were long and darker than what she remembered. The mark on your lip appeared nearly healed. It was impossible. You had only been struck hours ago by Daemon Targaryen, and even if he did not put his full force into it. Alicent hated to admit it, he was still Daemon Targaryen.

“I thought this was family only?” Daemon asked with a smirk. Alicent watched you to see how you’d react. She only saw you give a small smile while looking down then back up towards him before taking your seat next to Alicent. Alicent inhaled your scent and you smelled sweet, it also made her want to lean over and inhale you. Never had she met anyone who had smelled so good.

“My Queen,” Alicent heard you whisper. “Thank you for the dress, I would’ve worn something of my own, but my attire isn’t exactly proper for this kind of setting.”

Alicent gave you a nod. “Of course.”

“What do I address everyone by? I know it is not their name but, what do I say?” You asked about playing with the hems of the dress. Alicent gave you a smile. “I am Queen Alicent, you address all royalty by ‘your grace’ including Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanrya. Next to you sits my father, Lord hand Otto Hightower, next to him sits my youngest; Prince Aemond,” She watched you give her a confused look.

“I would’ve thought he was the oldest.” You whisper looking towards Aemond who always seemed to be giving a stuck up smirk.

Alicent gave a small laugh before shaking her head. “No, Aegon, the one who sits in front of you is my eldest.” She corrected as she watched Aegon lift his chalice to you and nodded. “Next to him is his wife and my second eldest Helaena.” Alicents smiled turned into a frown when she saw you look at her confused. She watched you shake your head and look over to Jacaerys. “That is Princess Rheanrya’s eldest son, Prince Jacearys Velaryon, then next to him his betrothed, Princess Baela Targeryen, and to her right his the second eldest, Prince Lucerys Velaryon, and finally Princess Rhaena.”

“So I address everyone as ‘your grace’ then.” You whispered to her and she nodded. “Except for your father?” Once more Alicent nodded.

A sound was heard outside and Alicent stood up and you followed right after her. Everyone watched as Viserys was brought in and his eyes zeroed in on you before giving you a small nod. Viserys called your name and you gave a curtsy, though Alicent has no idea where you learned that from. Alicent watched you as you looked to her before addressing the King properly and though she had only just taught you, a small sense of pride emerged in her chest.

“I thank you for your suggestion to the Maesters. I feel…better as hard as it is to believe.” Viserys spoke to you, giving you a smile. You found it hard to smile back. Finally Viserys addressed his family and you sat silently playing with the rings on your fingers.

“Prayer before we begin?” You heard Queen Alicent ask and for a moment you wondered what their religion was. As she prayed you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips. What was the mother, or the smith? It wasn’t funny but nonetheless a smile was on your lips. You looked across from you and saw Aegon pointing to his shoulders. You raised a brow unsure of what he meant.

Once more he made the gesture with a questioning face and once you understood it, your face went hot. He was asking about your undergarments and where they were. You rolled your eyes and looked away from him and instead towards the end of the table where Jacaerys and his betrothed was. Once again, like before he was looking at you. He turned his eyes away quickly once more away from you. Then you looked over to the girl next to him. Despite the fact that Alicent had only just told you their names, you had already forgotten them.

She looked at you with an almost questioning look. Perhaps it was the make-up. You don’t think they have ever seen modern make-up. You gave a small smile and she gave you one back. Then you looked towards the end of the table where the younger siblings of the two sat. The dark haired one looked towards you and unlike his older brother did not shy away when you met his gaze. You gave a smile and he returned it. Before you could get a better look towards the last one King Viserys spoke.

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons Jace and Luke will marry their cousins Baela and Rheana further strengthening the relationship between the two houses—” As Viserys spoke it caused you to make an involuntary face.

Their cousins!? That was madness to you!

Everyone heard a laugh and you controlled your facial expressions and you looked towards Aegon as he looked at you. He cleared his throat and said his apologies, though he looked at you and smiled and you couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face as you both looked towards each other.

For the rest of the speech you both smiled towards each other as if you were both making fun of the King. Whilst you smiled towards Aegon you both were blissfully unaware of the looks everyone else gave, from Aemond and Otto, to Luke and Rhaena.

Your attention was brought away from Aegon when the King stood up. As he spoke you looked from the corner of your eye to Aegon and he looked towards you. It seemed as if you were both speaking with your eyes. Your eyes shifted from Aegon to the King throughout his speech of family. You felt out of place and Aegon was the only one who seemed to respond when you looked towards him.

But when Viserys took off his mask your appetite quickly left as it came. You rubbed your neck looking away from the King blinking towards Aemond who met your gaze but did nothing but look back. It was almost as awkward as each time you tried to look towards Jacaerys, only this time Aemond’s gaze did intimate you.

You looked away from him to down at the table then back up only to find that intense gaze still you. Once more you blinked and looked down before offering a weak smile, which was not reciprocated.

Finally you watched Viserys speak and you swore you saw small specks of spit fly out. It made sense the man had a hole in his face.

However, you were NOT catching leprosy besides, this was medieval food. You doubt you were missing much.

You leaned back in your chair. This was so not like the movies. Not to mention the whole incest stuff was just a little too much for you. Yes, you knew about cousins marrying each other but uncles and nieces!? Siblings!? You shook your head. As you looked up you saw Aegon watching you then look towards you drink. Looking around you saw others looking towards you expectantly.

“Oh, sorry.” You took a small sip from the wine and found yourself smiling just a bit. It was good, well fermented. You observed the glass, it was quite nice. You found yourself looking at yourself in the reflection the wine offered and you drank some more feeling a warmth flood your face and ears and an involuntary smile grew on your face.

A loud sound startled you and caused you to flinch slightly. You looked up to see Jacaerys. He then looked over to you and once more he looked away. You raised a brow then you turned to watch Aemond stand. Then you saw Jacaerys lift his cup. Great. Another speech. How fun.

“To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen eachother in years, I have fond memories of our shared youth…and as men I hope we may yet be friends and allies.” You don’t know why, but suddenly you began to giggle.

You didn’t bother paying attention to the rest as you tried to stop the sudden laugh attack. Your shoulders shook as you held your face down and you felt eyes on you.

You looked up to see the displeased look on Aegon’s face and Jacaerys grabbing his shoulders and you had to cover your mouth and you gave a slightly louder giggle. You breathed in deeply trying to calm yourself but the smile would not leave your face.

“I’d like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon, it isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you. Except sometimes when he’s drunk.” Helaena spoke and though it was a sad statement you laughed and all eyes shifted to you. Helaena, the sweet thing laughed alongside you. You both laugh, grinning towards each other.

“This wine is very good.” You giggled out. Soon the music started and you continued to drink. As the food was passed to you, you refused it. As the night progressed you watched Helaena and Jacaerys dance with each other and then your laughter suddenly died down.

It reminded you of your own family dinners. What did your family think? You wondered when your funeral would be? It would only be logical that they assume you’re dead. In the hall where everything was bright, your face sat out of place and a sorrowful expression sat.

“A dance my lady?” You looked up to see Aegon.

“I don’t know how to dance the way y’all dance.” You spoke in low tones.

“How do you dance to this music?” Aegon tried once more watching from the corner of his eye his wife and Jace dance.

“Waltz maybe? I don’t know” You responded.

“Teach me then.” Aegon takes your hands and pulls you from your seat. A smile from flattery comes on your face and you feel others watching as you walk past Helaena and Jace. Your face turns a shade of pink.

“The best I have is from Cinderella.” You whisper as you take his arm and place him around your waist and you take his other hand holding it in your own as you step closer to each other.

“I don’t know what Cinderella is, but if it means you’re this close to me, then I think I’ll like it.” Aegon teased. “So what now?”

“Umm good question. Okay just follow my lead. Step backward with your right.” You told him looking down between the both of you. As he stepped backwards you stepped forward with your left foot. “Now backwards with your right foot.” You whispered and you followed his movements. “Okay to the left with your left foot next to your right foot.” He nodded and you followed after him. “Finally step forward with your right foot, moving it slightly in front of your left foot, those are all the moves then you just repeat.” After one or two mistakes both of you began dancing to the beat of the music avoiding Jace and Helaena.

You smiled and giggled as you both danced. “We dance like this until the songs are over” Aegon asked as he pulled you closer to him and you shrugged. “I suppose we can spin.” You whispered and led him into dancing in a circle. You pulled his hand away from your waist and raised the hand you held to spin yourself then once more you both resumed dancing.

“I thought you said you did not know how to dance?” He grinned and you shrugged. “Not to this music.”

“Mayhaps you may show me your music one day.” He suggested and you both spun.

“Perhaps.” You smiled at him.

The room stood still as they watched you both dance, shades of dark greens spinning and seemingly gliding across the floor to the music. It was hard to look away, especially because it seemed so scandalous having a man and woman so close to each other.

They watched as Aegon let go of your hand and lifted you up and spun you in the air before setting you down to dance once more. They all watched you both laugh as you both once more glided across the floor. However a fist hit the table abruptly stopping the music. You let go of Aegon and turned to Aemond.

“Final tribute.” Aemond raised his glass and you looked towards Aegon confused. He shared your look. “To the health of my nephews. Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them is handsome, wise…strong.”

There was an implication, though it was one you could not understand. You looked towards Aegon who had a large smile on his face. Clearly he understood the reference. He pulled you by the hand and took his cup and grabbed your own, filling it to the brim with wine for you.

“Aemond.” Queen Alicent warned.

You raised your cup alongside Aegon looking towards Luke though his eyes were only on Aemond. Then you looked back towards Jace who looked like he was seething, though he stood in a funny way that made you giggle a bit.

“Come, let us drain our cups to these three strong boys,” Aemond finished.

“I dare you to say that again.” Jace challenged. You were thoroughly confused.

Was the word ‘strong’ an insult here? “Prince Aegon, is strong not a compliment here?” You whispered.

He grinned and shook his head. “It is. My nephews are just…sensitive.” He whispered back.

“Why? T’was only a compliment. Do you not think of yourself as strong?” Aemond finished and you watched as Jace walked to him and hit him. You gasped and then you were pulled back behind Aegon as he slammed Luke’s head onto the table.

“Stop!” You yelled towards Aegon. Aegon seemed to be around your age while Luke looked to be thirteen. You tried to pull Aegon off pushing you back. As you were pushed back, so was Jacaerys. You both collided into each other while he took the brunt of the fall.

He helped you up and went back to charge back but you held onto him. As you held him back, it was the first time you really got to look at him. At any other time he would look away. As you looked longer you noticed that he had very pretty eyes. A nice dark brown. “Stop.” You whispered out.

“Are you going to hide behind a woman nephew?” Aemond remarked while giving a cruel smile.

You saw Jacarey narrows his eyes and begins to push against you. “Are you gonna hide behind your words?” You glared back towards him.

“This does not concern you.” You turned and looked up towards Daemon. He towered over you, and he still had his sword on him, you knew you got lucky last time. You doubt you will be so fortunate next time. You saw his hand coming towards your face and instinctively you stepped back away from Jacaerys. The stinging sensation his backhand gave you came back and your lip felt like it was pulsing. He gave you a cruel smirk enjoying your fear of him and he stepped closer and you stepped back.

You wanted to look away from him, but you feared that if you did he would cut you down. It wasn’t until you bumped into something that you looked back and saw a glimpse of long white hair. However, as fast as you looked back, you looked towards Daemon again, though you weren’t fast enough to evade the hand that grabbed the bottom of your face, squeezing it so that it made the cut on your lip open again.

You hissed out a cry as his thumb was putting pressure over the bruise he had caused earlier. You felt hands on your shoulders pulling you back away from Daemon’s grasp. Daemon scoffed before he wiped his hands on his pants, showing some of your foundation. You could only assume that some of your bruises were showing.

“You look good green.” It was all Daemon said before you were ushered out by Aemond by command of Alicent.

Note: Every time I try to go team black I somehow end up writing for green. Also, I think I would really die if I had no music.

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promptfairy · 1 year ago

Text

❥ 𝐋𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 [ 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 ] .

designed for ships, but can be used for a variety of relationship types. change gendered language/add context to your needs. happy roleplaying !! ♡

❛ it feels so good to be bad. ❜ ❛ it really makes me wonder if i ever gave a fuck about you. ❜ ❛ give me something to believe in. ❜ ❛ i don’t believe in you anymore. ❜ ❛ i wonder if it even makes a difference to try. ❜ ❛ so, this is goodbye. ❜ ❛ one day i’ll wake up & it won’t hurt anymore. ❜ ❛ it’s like i can’t even feel after the way you touched me. ❜ ❛ you’re everything that i want, but you don’t want me. ❜ ❛ am i a regret, yet? ❜ ❛ was it worth what it costed? ❜ ❛ you make me nauseous. ❜ ❛ you’re overrated. ❜ ❛ when i think of you, i just want to throw up. ❜ ❛ all my friends say that you’re toxic. ❜ ❛ why does love suck? ❜ ❛ love hurts whether it’s right or wrong. ❜ ❛ i can’t stop, i’m having too much fun. ❜ ❛ you can’t save me, baby. ❜ ❛ you never call or listen to me anyway. ❜ ❛ where were you tuesday, october tenth? ❜ ❛ how is your jacket covered in blood? ❜ ❛ how was the party? did you have fun? ❜ ❛ i fell in love with the warning signs. ❜ ❛ the only time i feel alive is when i’m touching the warning signs. ❜ ❛ if you tell me to stay away, i’m gonna dive in again. ❜ ❛ my favorite color is red like the flags you fly overhead. ❜ ❛ well, i should have known. ❜ ❛ didn’t you see it coming? didn’t you see the signs? ❜ ❛ i’ll break your pretty face. ❜ ❛ bite your tongue & choke yourself to sleep. ❜ ❛ you can hold my hand if no one’s home. ❜ ❛ do you like it when i’m away? ❜ ❛ you’re a pond & i’m an ocean. ❜ ❛ all my emotions feel like explosions when you are around. ❜ ❛ i am a wreck when i’m without you. ❜ ❛ was it something i said to make you feel like you’re a burden? ❜ ❛ tell me, is it worth it? ❜ ❛ she’s a lady & i am just a line without a hook. ❜ ❛ do what you want as long as you stay here. ❜ ❛ you’ll change your name or change your mind & leave this fucked up place behind, but i’ll know. ❜ ❛ if you ever try to leave me, i’ll find you, [name]. ❜ ❛ i’ll be the bad guy, now. ❜ ❛ i couldn’t be there, even when i tried. ❜ ❛ seasons changed & our love went cold. ❜ ❛ i knew that this was doomed from the get-go. ❜ ❛ you thought that it was special, but it was just the sex, though. ❜ ❛ it’s only me; what have you got to lose? ❜ ❛ you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk & made fun of the way you talk. ❜ ❛ you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong. ❜ ❛ you’re so cool, it makes me hate you so much. ❜ ❛ you’ve ruined my life by not being mine. ❜ ❛ you’re so gorgeous, i can’t say anything to your face. ’cause look at your face. ❜ ❛ i’m so furious at you for making me feel this way. ❜ ❛ if you’ve got a girlfriend, i’m jealous of her. but if you’re single, that’s honestly worse. ❜ ❛ you’re so gorgeous, it actually hurts. ❜ ❛ you make me so happy, it turns back to sad. ❜ ❛ there’s nothing i hate more than what i can’t have. ❜ ❛ guess i’ll just stumble on home to my cats. alone … unless you wanna come along? ❜ ❛ you look so happy when i’m not with you. ❜ ❛ i don’t know why i run away. ❜ ❛ take me back, ’cause i wanna stay. ❜ ❛ i kept my distance ’cause i know that you don’t like when i’m with somebody else. ❜ ❛ i couldn’t help it; i put you through hell. ❜ ❛ i realize that it’s much too late, & you deserve someone better. ❜ ❛ i’m not the best at breaking up. ❜ ❛ i like my alone time, but i want somebody to hold. ❜ ❛ i get what i want. i keep it for a minute. then i let it go. ❜ ❛ i hate it when you’re there for me, but i like it when you hit the spot. ❜ ❛ i don’t do fake love, but i’ll take some from you tonight. ❜ ❛ i don’t expect you to understand. ❜ ❛ i’m ready to die holding your hand. ❜ ❛ i can’t hide how i feel about you inside. ❜ ❛ i’d give everything up tonight, if i could just have you be mine. ❜ ❛ i’d give up everything for you. ❜

#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp starters #rp meme #rp prompts #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #roleplay prompts #small text is no longer a thing on this blog bc tumblr makes it impossible to format long lists like this with the stupid #character limit rule so enjoy this normal sized text <3

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itsjusthockey · 7 months ago

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Bittersweet - Jack Hughes

Back from the dead

This is to prove I can still write??? Maybe??

let me know if you like it pls

w.c 1,207 (credit to gif maker) (don't steal my work)

Somewhere in between heaven and hell, he tastes like whiskey. He’s bitter and silky smooth, yet a hint of sweetness simmers underneath it all.

The country music concert surrounding you is bustling. Flashing lights, smoke, and a lively crowd make you feel a little suffocated. You’re thankful to be in the VIP section, away from most of the other bodies, but even still, the summer heat has your mind begging to leave.

You wouldn’t, though, even if you could.

He looks good tonight, in his element. He’s surrounded by those who know him best, and he has a little tipsy smile as he spins you around and around to whatever song is playing. You’re still not the biggest country music fan; you never were until you met him, but you still sing along.

He loves being here with you at these events. He tells you that over and over. A part of you believes he’s telling you the truth, but the ladder believes he’s just telling you what you want to hear. Either way, you need to push these thoughts from your head, but it’s hard when his other life is mocking you when the lights flash on him.

You ignore the pit in your stomach as he twirls you around again, pulling you in until your back meets his chest. You hear his light singing in your ear, and when you turn back as far as you can, you see his face light up brightly for a moment with the flashes from the giant screens, and then it’s back to normal.

He notices your stare, and he leans in for another quick kiss. He smiles into it, and his hands dig into your sides, holding you impossibly closer. His grip almost seems as if he’s scared, that he genuinely believes at any moment you might appariate into nothingness and leave him stranded alone in the crowd.

You stay and sway on the floor for a while, and eventually, you feel nature calling, and you attempt to remove his iron grip from you. You whisper to him to let you go, but he insists on following you instead.

You bump into a few people as you leave the floor and quickly mutter apologies as you pass. He leads you to the bathroom and stands off to the side as you go in to do your business, and when you return to the front, instead of leading you back to the crowd, he makes a beeline toward the bar. He sits casually on a stool and points to the one beside him, and you take a seat.

“Hi,” he says, his eyes searching over your face. “You okay?”

He looks a little tired, and the purple bags under his blue eyes are visible. The color almost matches the dark purple bruises that line his neck and follow down under his t-shirt. You tried to ignore them on the concert floor, but it’s harder in the light.

“I’m great.” You lie.

You can’t help but keep your stare glued to his neck, and suddenly, your own is starting to feel like it’s on fire. Jack notices what you're eyeing and tugs his shirt up a bit, attempting to hide them.

“Sorry,” he trails off awkwardly, but a fleeting shine of victory flickers behind his eyes. “I forgot about them.”

He forgets many things, but you shake your head. You want to punish him, ask him about who she is, and make him go into any details about the other woman, but the bartender saves him by coming over.

“Would you two like anything?”

You shake your head no. “No, thank you. We’re not really together.”

You sound bitter, and you partly are. You feel him shift beside you and know you’ve hit a nerve, but you don’t care about making him uncomfortable.

“We should get a drink,” he says lowly. “It’d help you feel better.”

Your face heats up in anger, and you scoff at him this time.

“Nothing will make me feel better about this.” You hiss.

You turn away from him as he waves the bartender over again and orders a round of drinks. He gets whiskey for himself and orders you your favorite cocktail. You wish he didn’t know it, but he knows you better than almost everyone else, making the situation a million times worse.

You sit in uncomfortable silence until the drinks arrive, and when they do, he gently pushes it toward you, and you stare at it like it’s poison. The vile cocktail would cure your aching heart, but you also know it’s part of the reason you’re in this mess in the first place.

Once you take a single sip, you knock it back quicker than you’d like to admit, and soon enough, Jack is asking if you’d like another.

“No,” you glare past him. “I think I just want to leave.”

As you get up from your seat, he starts to complain, but you stop him by laying a firm hand on his chest.

“I’m going home, and you don’t have to follow me.”

He doesn’t follow, and you can’t even act surprised. You make your way toward the exit you came in, find a taxi by yourself, and give the woman your address. She tries to make small talk initially, but once she notices the first tear, she turns up the radio, and the conversation dies.

————-

A few hours later, you feel the bed in your apartment dip beside you. You’re not sure exactly how long since you left him there, but deep down, you knew he’d find you later. It’s the terrible truth of the situation: while he might leave you for a while, he always comes back, and you are a weak woman who always lets him.

He squeezes tight into you, and you inhale the fresh scent of his body wash, and you say a silent prayer that he showered before he came into your safe space, the one place where you can somewhat forget about the mess you’re in.

“It wasn’t as fun when you left.” He whispers to you.

You don’t answer; you shift closer to him and pray he doesn’t speak tonight. You want him to be close to you, and you can let yourself believe you’re okay if he doesn’t shatter that belief with his lies.

He must understand this because he doesn’t speak anymore; instead, he lays with you under the sheets, and you both struggle to find sleep. Sleep requires peace, which you both have lacked for months.

“Jack?” You whisper, he hums, and you pour your true feelings out.

“One of these days, I’m gonna leave you.” You say firmly to the cold air. “And I’m going to hurt you just as much as you hurt me.”

A slow minute ticks by at your statement, and when he speaks, it comes out small and hurt, and you know he means every word.

“I believe you.”

You move yourself further from him in the bed, and even though you’re only mere inches apart, it feels like miles

#hockey #hockey boys #imagine #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey x reader #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl

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queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months ago

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Shouldn't Have Said It

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: relationship angst, heartbreak, getting roofied at a bar by someone you trust

Summary: It's been a month since you and Bucky broke up, and it's been the hardest month of your life. In that time, you realize you never wanted to be apart from Bucky. You put your trust in the wrong person, and your entire life hangs in the balance.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: "told you so" (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You didn't know how hard this was going to be for you. You didn’t leave because you fell out of love with Bucky. You left because it breaks your heart when Bucky takes away life like he’s God or something. Could you get over it? Maybe. You shouldn’t have said what you said to him. Maybe there was room for improvement but you were so stricken with grief that you said exactly what you were feeling at that moment.

It’s been nearly a month since you and Bucky broke things off so why doesn’t it feel over with? You want nothing more than to go running back to him but it’s like you’re stuck between true love and your morals. Killing is wrong. Taking a human life is a crime. Bucky should be in jail for what he’s done. He’s the bad guy, so why do you dream of him every night? Your parents raised you to be good and to help where you can. They taught you to love and care for others. If they knew what you’ve been doing, they’d shun you for sure.

You’re scared your innocence will be stripped down to nothing if you continue to stay with Bucky. You have given him everything you possibly could. Is there anything left?

Gio noticed a change in not only your appearance but the fact that you don’t smile anymore. You’re not dressing in your usual style--flowing dresses, shorts, tanks, and all of them in bright colors. Now, you’re dressed in dark colors, jeans, and band t-shirts with your hair in a bun most days. Over the past moonth, you might have said maybe ten words to him and he’s been a gentleman and let you have the space you’re silently asking for.

Even when you and Bucky are broken up, he still finds ways to take care of you. He sent you a new verison of the car you had before so you’re not walking or taking public transportation, but you refuse to use it. That’s a pity car and you’re not taking any charity even though it’s nice and you really want to use it. It’s not going to help much but you got a job at the local hardware store where you can save up for a car on your own.

If you truly want to be done with Bucky, you can’t use anything he gives you. Yeah, keep telling yourself that. It’s so damn hard moving on because you’re still so damn in love with him.

When Gio sees you sitting alone at lunch, he decides it’s time to bring up whatever’s got you in a slum. He walks across the huge cafeteria and sits next to you. You barely look at him but he does hear you mutter his name.

“Going through a break up is never easy.”

You look up at hi with slightly red and puffy eyes.

“How did you know?”

“It doesn’t take a genius to fit the puzzle together. Bucky isn’t around anymore.” You sigh and look back down at your food. “I didn’t want tot say anything to give you space but it’s been a month. Come out drinking with me and some friends.”

“I don’t know…”

“It’s fifty cent wings at the bar on campus. They got an overshipment of chicken wings and need them to go out before they go bad. Come on, it’s one night.”

Maybe this will be good for you. You’ve been sitting in your apartment all alone looking at pictures of you and Bucky. You’re making yourself sad so going out might be the way to move on.

“Okay, just one night.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you my address.”

“Cool,” he smiles. “You’re not going to regret it.” His energy makes you smile even if it’s small. “I made you smile, right? That’s progress.”

Gio gets up and leaves you alone. Gio would be so easy to be with but he’s not Bucky. He doesn’t give you the sense of danger and adventure you had when you were with Bucky. You watch him walk away, and as much as you try not to, you see Bucky walking away from you. Yeah, you might really need this night out or maybe you’re forcing yourself to get over Bucky when you know you don’t want to.

Oh, I don’t know what to do or think.

When you get home, you immediately start getting ready even though you have three hours to spare because if you don’t distract yourself, you’ll start to think about Bucky and cancel on Gio. You don’t dress fancy since you’re going to go to a campus bar but you at least try to put something nice on. Gio comes when he sayid he would, and you meet him in the parking lot. You’re not an idiot. Being with Bucky made you cautious with most things in your life. Gio is an amazing man but Bucky made you weary of anyone in your life.

“Wow,” Gio smiles.

“What?”

“You look beautiful.”

“It’s just jeans and a t-shirt,” you say shyly.

“Even better.”

It only takes ten minutes to get to the bar which is already lively with people. Gio meets up with his friends who welcome you in with open arms. There are already three boxes of wings on the table that are all half devoured with more on the way. Gio orders two beers and sits with you at the table when he grabs them. Football games are playing on all of the TV screens, people are playing darts and pool in teams, and everyone is having such a good time.

Why aren't you?

“So? How do you feel?” Gio asks and nudges your shoulder.

“This isn’t so bad, I guess,” you chuckle.

“Told you so. I’m glad I could convince you to come out.”

“Well, I figure I had my month to wallow. It’s time to move on.”

Are you saying that to Gio or yourself? Are you really ready to move on? Do you even want to? I don’t know what to think. My head is all jumbled and confused. You look at Gio with a small smile wishing you were here with Bucky instead. Actually, you wish you were back in Italy with Bucky. You had to put your entire life on hold when you were there, and you’d give anything to feel that way again.

“Your skills are getting better in class. No one can sew like you.”

“Thank you. My mother was a seamstress. She’s to thank for my love of designing.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s an architect. I get designing from him as well. What about your parents?”

Gio clears his throat and looks down at his beer.

“My mom died when I was a baby. I don’t remember much about her except the stories I’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry. What about your dad?” you ask and sip your beer. Gio’s face immediately hardens into something that makes you uneasy. He spares you a glance and forces himself to relax but the anger is still there. “Are you okay?”

“My dad passed away a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he shrugs. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” You nod in understanding when his eyes meet yours. There’s a dark anger in his eyes that he can’t hide. He sees how taken aback you are so he grabs your half-drank beer and his almost finished one. “Let me get you another drink.”

He’s gone before you can say anything. You sigh and look around the crowded bar in thought.

“You’re out on a date with that guy?” You snap your head up when you hear his voice. “Come home. I miss you.”

Bucky is sitting right next to you as if he’s really there. You look around in panic but when you look back at Bucky, he’s gone. Who were you kidding? You can’t do this. You’re an idiot if you thought you were ready to move on. Who are you kidding right now? You don’t want to move on. No, you don’t. You miss Bucky. You miss his touch after a long day and the way his rough hands run over your smooth skin. You miss his lips when they kiss all over your body. You miss his smile when you make him work for your attention. You miss his blue eyes and the way they darken when you put on that red little number he loves so much.

So what if he kills people, right? He’d kill for you. That shows how much he loves you, right? He’d do anything to protect you. He treats you like a Queen, and you’re an idiot to let him go. If only your parents could see you now.

Gio comes back with a different drink in his hands. Right. Gio. You want to go home. Will Bucky take you back after what you said to him? Can he find it in himself to love you again?

“Hey, listen, you’re great and super nice but I don’t think I’m ready for this. It’s not you. I’m just not ready.”

“No worries,” he smiles. He sets a red-colored drink on the table in front of you. “I got you your favorite drink. Let me just say bye to my friends and I’ll take you home.”

“Thank you.”

Gio leaves your side to do what he said he was going to do. You take the glass and down the alcohol easily. Gio comes back shortly and you get out of the booth to leave. However, when you take the first step, your legs immediately feel like jelly. Gio catches you before you go crashing to the ground, and you look away in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry. This usually doesn’t happen. I’m not a lightweight.”

You and Bucky once had a drinking contest to see who could drink the most and you won. Despite how hard and dangerous he can be, he can’t handle his alcohol well.

“Come on, let’s get you to the car.”

Gio helps you to his car and inside the passenger side. Your headache is worse, your body feels completely numb, and your vision is starting to blur. What the hell happened? Gio gets behind the wheel and pulls away from the bar.

“I don’t feel so good,” you slur.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take you home. Just go to sleep.”

He makes a right onto the main road and drives down the dark and desolate road. The last thing on your mind before you succumb to the darkness is that in order to get to your apartment, he had to make a left, not a right.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #marvel fan fiction #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fanfiction #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel #marvel fiction #mcu fanfiction

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a-shift-in-the-lore · 2 months ago

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A fic snippet in my head that I’m not sure I’ll expand on but won’t leave me alone lol

“He has the papers to be here Jayce, I don’t know why you’re acting like this!”

“He’s dangerous!”

“Because he’s from the Undercity, need I remind you, I’m-”

“You’ve never killed anyone!”

Viktor froze, both surprised that Jayce knew and that he would say that. Viktor considered the man before him for a moment, his anger rolling off in him in waves, his fear for Viktor clearly the cause of it.

Viktor tried to keep that in mind, as he felt his own anger build.

“But I have.”

Jayce stared at him, mouth agape and Viktor knew that he’d feel some fond amusement when he’d picture his face later but right now he was mostly numb, apathy only broken by bubbling frustration mixed with righteous anger.

“When I was… fourteen, if recall correctly? A man placed a knife against my throat and told my… companion to give him ‘whatever he had on him’ my companion would have, I believe, to save my life if necessary, but that money was to be used for… other’s medical expenses and I was as stubborn then as I am now.”

The man lounging across his divan, a gift from the stunned man of progress himself, back when Viktor had first moved in to his new apartment, snorted, and muttered “Ain’t that the truth,” under his breath.

Jayce’s gaze swung to him, frigid with anger, as if he himself wouldn’t agree under other circumstances.

Viktor glanced over, taking note as he always did whenever his glaze lingered on the furniture piece that was suspiciously close to the Talis house colors. As were several other items in his house that Jayce had given him over the years to celebrate achievements or for anniversaries.

“I refused to let the man take our money, especially if he was to use me as a bargaining chip to get it… so I bit him.”

Jayce glare soften as Viktor talked and then harshened again fiercely when poorly veiled huffs of laughter came from the divan.

“His grip loosened in response, so I let my cane fall, grabbed his arm with both of mine, and pulled down with all my strength, causing the knife to swing down, slash my leg and stab his. It nicked his, ah, femoral artery.”

“That, that’s not, you didn’t kill him.”

“The man is dead. I was the cause. How did I not?”

“It was self-defense!”

“Sure, and he’s dead nonetheless. I could have made other choices, if I had, he might not be. But I didn’t, Jayce, and so he is.”

“That, yes, but,”

It had been a long time since Viktor had seen him so ineloquent, it made his lips twitch upwards slightly against his will.

Viktor gestured to his guest, “Would you be so defensive of him, as well? Even if you wouldn’t consider the act immoral for him as you do me, done in self defense, would you still insist he didn’t kill the man? Or is it that you can’t associate me with killing the way you can with others from the Undercity? It seems you came here immediately after finding out but do you even know the circumstances? Do you know why he killed that man?”

Jayce paused, eyes saddened in such a way that reminded him of a puppy that didn’t understand why you were scolding them.

Viktor sighed, heavily from his nose, and leaned his crutch against he wall, wrapping his hand around Jayce’s wrist, physical touch the best way to keep Jayce’s attention on him and not lose him to his own spirals.

“I believe that you… you care so strongly for those… for the people in your life that it’s almost like we are born renewed in your eyes the day that you meet us. You put us on a pedestal, and so nothing that happened before you knew us matters. And that’s… sweet, I suppose, but it’s also incredibly naive.”

Viktor tightened his grip, Jayce’s eyes locked onto his own, heavy and heated.

“Noxus is a brutal empire, she is technically one of its heirs, generally it would have been expected of her but have you ever considered if Mel has ever taken a life?”

Jayce’s brows furrowed and when he went to interject, Viktor held up his hand to stop him.

“I’m not saying she has, she very well may not have, nor am I suggesting that she should be condemned if she has, as her circumstances may have given her no choice but the thought has never even crossed your mind has it?”

Jayce stared at him, wide eyed but he shook his head in defeat, even if he didn’t realize it.

“But it might for a random Noxian stranger, perhaps?”

Jayce’s lips pursed but he didn’t answer.

“Again, it’s sweet but rather naive to not even consider how the circumstances of our births may have lead us down different paths than you, Jayce, to the point where you think us untouchable, to the point where you have placed us above our peoples.”

Jayce’s rigid posture deflated slowly and he slumped forward a bit, forehead gently falling on Viktor’s shoulder, face turned just slightly towards him.

Viktor twisted his hold on Jayce’s arm with practiced ease so that he could keep his balance even as his partner leaned into him.

Viktor held himself still as Jayce’s breath danced across his neck.

“I’m not trying to be…”

“Unkind? Presumptuous? Thick-headed?”

Jayce snorted and the action caused his nose to brush against the back of Viktor’s jaw.

Viktor let Jayce gather his thoughts.

“I just want you safe.” He muttered dejectedly into Viktor’s shoulder after a minute.

Viktor sighed heavily, bringing his other hand to Jayce’s arm, rubbing it to provide some comfort, “Yes, Jayce, I know. I know.”

(ps I love Jayce but I do think canon shows that he 1) kinda puts his loved ones on a pedestal and 2) that because he does so he doesn’t really consider their pasts much. Like it seems like he routinely forgets? Or doesn’t consider the fact that Viktor is from the Undercity even when talking to him in canon)

#arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayvik #viktor #mel medarda #arcane viktor #jayce x viktor #oc #my post

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ravenwind-75 · 1 month ago

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If @heylorrain subjected me to pain and angst songs and said to go with the ideas I was given, I listened, hard. And so I have something for you. Sorry in advance.

Indigo:

~~~~~~

He was worried about her. She knew that. That she shouldn’t be here still. That she’d lose her way to the next place. Yet she lied to herself each day that she could find her way back to him. That this time her path would lead to life not death. She never should have left him, she never should have gone there when he asked her to leave his family to him.

Yet she did.

She wondered if her aura had changed. He used to say it was bright and brilliant. She used to feel it herself, the thrumming of life and power, of love. Now she felt colder, and lonely. It was so dark here in the in between. She didn’t know how the other ghosts did it. How they moved past it. The guilt.

Maybe it was time she finally went home, but she didn’t want to leave him here by himself. It wasn’t fair, why did they have to say goodbye? Why did she have to be dead and alone, leaving someone who needed her just as much and even more so?

…..

He gave her a piece of his heart and then tried to run from it. Run from her love. And when he finally accepted it he was so lost in the clouds of fear, he’d never seen that the sun would risk her light for him. Now he couldn’t feel her closeness, warmth at all.

When he heard the news his light had left him, his face paled. When her hand evaporated in his the clouds of his soul shed tears, bitter rain of sorrow.

Yet her death had given him some hope and faith that he could be free of them. That he’d be saved.

But at what cost? What kind of lesson was this?

Her death is my fault…

He’d lost his color. He lost his light. He lost his love.

….

She was the gold to his silver, the sun to his moon. He had never felt warmer than when he was in her presence. Soft curls wrapped around his fingers, her cradled against his chest, her lips pressed against his. She gave him the joy that he’d shared.

Now he was her warmth yet she couldn’t feel it. Just a wisp of frigid wind that made him shiver that he didn’t have the heart to tell to leave him alone. He wanted her warmth back, to feel her colorful aura.

Yet she begged him as he knelt on the cold stone floor, wand to his head, “Don’t take the life I fought to save. Live for me. You’ll come home to me someday. Patience remember? I can wait. Please!”

“I already feel dead so why can’t I join you?! I don’t want another sun to set without being by your side.”

But he’d stayed when she left. Many tears were shed when they said goodbye, one last brush of her hand on his cheek he felt her fade away, his wand pointed skyward doing nothing to sense her shape.

“Don’t say goodbye I’m right here. Please, I’m not leaving, not ever.” She’d said weeping softly.

He just smiled weakly, “Darling it’s better there. Go.”

It didn’t take long to convince her. Her spirit was tired. And they just kept painting each other darker.

He couldn’t move on with her here. And she got no rest. It was time to part ways with their ghosts.

“Goodbye Ominis.”

“Goodbye, my darling.”

…….

She’d loved the color indigo. She said it was what a twilight sky looked like. Where everything is half-lit and bathed in a hue between reality and a dream.

Maybe this is how indigo felt. Calm, sad and soft. An understanding, the deepest sense of peace yet a slow pain in the quiet isolation of her absence. On the edge of something unspeakable, untouchable.

A longing, a wish for connection out of reach, something impossible. Not a bright sadness but a certain kind of a melancholy that simply fades into the silence of darkness like the light of day.

Like she did.

His favorite color used to be gold, her brightness.

Now it was indigo.

Because In his dreams, when twilight came, she lived.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt #i love angst #sorry everybody #hl fanfic #ravenwindwrites #hl oneshot #ominis gaunt x mc #Spotify

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year ago

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ngl my brain kinda goes crazy at the thought of mafia!abby. I don't know why but HER IN A SUIT lord have mercy.

put all my favorite tropes in a blender and I give you:

City Lights

Part 2

a/n: not my best work but it is my horniest work, so riddle me that.

cw: Mafia! Abby, dbf! Abby 🤭, little age gap (reader in early 20s Abby is later 30s), feminine reader (specifically refers to reader as girl), sort of innocent reader, Abby walking in on reader using vibe 🤭, Abby referred to as Ms. Anderson or miss, reader gets roofied BUT is saved and nothing ensues, general mafia coded violence, make out session, (smut in part 2 I'm sorry my darlings)

Minors DNI (I will jump out at you through your screen i stg)

wc: 4.8k (woah)

———————————————————————

You watch as the sun falls from the city sky, lights slowly flickering on signaling the end of a day and the start of a long night. You can’t help but marvel at the sea of lights shimmering in front of you creating a sort of man made night sky, stars replaced by the warm glow of living room and bedroom lights from various apartments. You had lived in this penthouse for a while, but watching the city come alive at night would never get old.

“Hey!” your friend, Dina, waves a hand in front of your face. She must have called you a few times before she finally got your attention. Your eyes reluctantly move from the glowing city to your friend looking down at you, a playful expression on her face. “Girl, you have to get out of your head for your own good.” She lends a hand to you, “Let’s go drink our problems away.” She smirks and you giggle before grabbing her hand and standing up.

“Alright, but you can’t leave me tonight. It's girls night.” She would almost always end up with someone by the end of the night, leaving you to make your way home alone at fucking 3 AM. It definitely helped that her dad wasn’t in the same line of work as yours, you couldn’t exactly hook up with just anyone. Apparently it was “dangerous” your dad was fucking paranoid, but it’s not like you could ignore him and rebel. He always found out somehow and you’d end up being whisked away by one of his bodyguards he hired to follow you around. It was a compromise that the guards were at a distance too, if it were up to you they wouldn’t be there at all.

“I’m not leaving you tonight because you’re going to find someone to go home with.” She has a mischievous smile on her face, like she’s already planned your fate for the night.

“Dina-” you start to say, but she interrupts, “Hush, forget about your dad for a few hours of your life, we’ll figure it out.” She smiles genuinely this time and steps back to dramatically look you up and down. “Listen, you look hot, I look hot, let’s go have fun and be hot together.” She wasn’t wrong, you were wearing one of your favorite black dresses. It perfectly accentuated your curves and flaunted just the right amount of cleavage. Dina always looked good, tonight she was wearing a little black dress as well and you two made quite the alluring pair.

Dina handed you your clutch and led you out of the apartment and into the bustling city. A car is ready for you as soon as you walk out of the lobby– one of the perks of your paranoid father’s line of work. You and her climb in giggling and reflecting on past nights filled with loud music and colorful lights.

The car slows and you and Dina exit onto the sidewalk. Your heels obnoxiously click against the pavement as you both make your way to the door, skipping the line. The bouncer immediately recognizes and encourages you in with a friendly nod. You glance up at the muscley man with a grateful smile and a wink before you enter with your friend in tow.

You walk into an empty marble lobby, dimly lit with no furniture. The sound of both your and Dina’s Heels now echoing throughout the grand empty room. Straight ahead there is a small elevator and to the left of it are stairs. The stairs have little lights lining them, illuminating the way up. You and Dina look at eachother, “No way I’m taking those stairs in these heels.”

She giggles “I agree, I don't think I could make it the 15th floor.” You click the button to call the elevator and the doors immediately open. You and Dina walk into the poorly lit mirror covered box and you press the button for the top floor. Turns out she was wrong. It was more like 20 floors, you had scaled those stairs before, but all those times you were very drunk and going down not up. You adjust your hair and pick at your makeup as the elevator slowly ascends. A soft ding sounds and the door opens slowly revealing the bustling nightclub.

The only lighting in the room was cool colored spotlights, the overwhelming sound of music causing the floor to vibrate under your feet. Most of the light flooded in through the windows that lined the walls. The city lights filtered in, illuminating the room. It almost felt like the club was somehow floating in the middle of the bustling urban area. The floor to ceiling windows made it feel much more spacious despite it being packed with writhing bodies. It was the reason this club was your favorite; it perfectly embraced its beautiful location at the top of a skyscraper.

You both wander into the crowd hand in hand, making a beeline for the bar. You order two vodka shots each and two drinks, wanting to get the festivities of the night started as quickly as possible. The bartender quickly delivers your orders and you look at your friend nodding before downing a shot. Dina beats you to the second, but you quickly follow, giggling. Your face involuntarily scrunches up as the offensive flavor of pure vodka hits your tongue. She leans in close to your ear and says in a low, mischievous voice “Let’s go have some fun.” and at that you both disappear into the crowd.

You’re not sure how much time has passed at this point. Apparently enough time for sweat to start to perspire on your skin, the warmth of bodies writhing together causing the temperature to rise throughout the night. A slight dizziness causes your vision to soften, the figures of people around you blurring together. Dancing had become easier and easier as your body relaxed from the alcohol flooding through your veins, the music leading your body movements. You had realized at some point you must have lost Dina, you pause your dancing and make your way to the booths. You spot her in between a man and women, clearly flirting with both of them, with her hands on each of their thighs, laughing comfortably with one another. It was clear she was going home with both of them tonight. Fucking impressive. And annoying.

It’s probably been years since you flirted with someone like that, at a certain point you gave up, letting other people approach you. It never ended in anything though. You envied Dina in her ability to execute that kind of thing.

You walk up, hesitantly interrupting. She spots you and pauses her heavy petting on her new friends. “Oh shit, I forgot I don’t have to-”

You hold up your hand and smile “Don’t worry about it, I’m having fun. Just text me later.” you wink and she smiles and nods. You walk over to the bar for your last drink of the night and to close your tab. You look around as you wait for your drink, scanning the VIP section for any familiar faces. Unsurprisingly you spot one of your father’s associates Ms. Anderson. She was here pretty regularly and maybe that’s why you were also here pretty regularly. There was an unspoken, forbidden attraction between you two. Stolen glances and tense conversations made it obvious it was mutual. It was also obvious that nothing could happen besides the occasional sexually charged staring contest, your father might murder her–in a more literal sense than most dads would murder their daughters' lovers. So you resorted to touching yourselves with each other’s names on the tip of your tongues, fingers teasing the ache that grew between your legs at the thought of the other.

She was wearing her usual suit minus a tie. Her white shirt was mostly unbuttoned, giving her a more casual, careless look. She sat with her legs spread, arms carelessly strung along the back of the couch she was sitting in, a glass of neat whiskey in her large hand. A woman sat next to her–well practically on top of her– in a scantily clad outfit, Ms. Anderson hardly made an effort to look at her eyes. She was surrounded by multiple men, clearly negotiating something, barely paying attention to them. And yet despite her disinterest in their words you could sense the respect that was held towards the blonde woman. They didn’t care that she wasn’t intently listening, they were grateful to even be heard at all. You could tell they must be low in the ranks, especially considering Ms. Anderson’s bored expression as they spoke to her. She caught you staring at her and her bored expression turned into a devilish smirk, her eyes meeting with yours. You look away embarrassed and pray your drink comes sooner rather than later. After a few minutes the bartender sets it down in front of you, you grab your drink off the counter gulping the whole thing down in a few sips. You step into the mass of bodies dancing to the loud music and begin moving in sync with the warm figures. Soon your vision turns concerningly blurry, you immediately try to stumble towards the bar, your legs starting to fail you. You were unfortunately familiar with what was happening which only made you panic all the more, trying to fight through the tiredness that is taking over your body. In a last ditch attempt you lug your failing body towards Ms. Anderson, praying to a god you didn’t believe in that someone noticed.

You hadn’t spotted Ms. Anderson earlier, but she noticed you. She had been watching you all night, specifically taking note of the way your body guards were distanced from you. She watched the bartender make your drink. Right as she watched him slip some sort of powder into it she left in the middle of her conversation. It didn’t matter at that point, all that mattered was getting to you before he did. She nodded at her bodyguards whispering in each of their ears what to do. One went with Abby to help you while the other went to grab the bartender.

Abby bent down underneath you to support you under your shoulder and you felt dread fill your body as she grabbed you, not recognizing who it was. You manage to loll your head to the side and see her face, your panic subsides and you begin to give in to the drug. As your body grows heavier Abby picks you up in the air bridal style, initially she didn’t want to cause a scene, but now it would be impossible to get you out of here any other way. You feel her warmth radiate through her shirt and your head leans against her strong chest as your vision slowly fades to black.

You startle awake, panicking as you realize you're sitting up in someone’s car. Adrenaline takes over as your breathing quickens and your heart rate picks up. You take in your surroundings, lights blur together as you look out the window, desperately trying to discern your location. When you look to your left your breathing immediately slows, remembering you were rescued by Ms. Anderson before you collapsed in the middle of the club. She looks over at you, slightly surprised by your wide panicked eyes being open, she expected you to sleep through the night given the amount of drugs that must be swirling around in your system. You were obviously quite the stubborn girl.

You begin to say something before the blonde cuts you off, “I found your phone and texted Dina and your father already. Your Father thinks you're staying over at Dina’s and Dina knows you’re safe and with me.” She immediately reassures you, somehow knowing exactly why you shot awake in the midst of a drug induced haze. You nod and relax, letting her take control of your fate. “I’m taking you back to my place, you need someone to make sure you stay breathing through the night.” You watch as her bloodstained knuckles harshly grip the steering wheel. What you didn’t know is Abby had laid you in the car, leaving you with one of her bodyguards before tending to the bartender herself. She made quick work of him, swiftly cutting off limb after limb as she gathered information. Abby was surprised at how quickly her rage consumed her, not realizing how protective she was of you. She snickered at him as he screamed and begged for his life. All she could see as she disassembled the poor excuse for a man was your weak body crumpling to the floor in front of her. She found out he was taking out a sort of hit on you. Trying to hurt your father by hurting you, she learned the name of his boss and sent the information to your father to have it taken care of. Of course she didn’t mention it was you who he tried to kidnap and do who knows what with, she only mentioned it was one of the daughters of someone in the inner circle.

He didn’t usually ask questions anyways, your father delighted in ridding this world of men who liked to hurt women. The things your father did were dark, but he never ever fucked with women, it was an unspoken rule in the Organization, one that Abby greatly appreciated and respected as well as you. You didn’t like what your father was involved in, but the thought that he had some sense of morals helped you sleep a little better at night.

You allow your eyes to close once again as Ms. Anderson drives you to her apartment. You float in and out of consciousness as she picks you up out of the car and carries you inside. You can sense the changes in lighting from behind your eyelids, you use sounds to estimate where you might be. Soon keys jingle and a door is opened. Muffled voices surround you and you are handed over to someone else's arms. You feel your dress being gently peeled from your body and you whimper, barely fighting for your dignity. A soft feminine voice hushes you and upon realizing it was a woman you return to your half conscious state. You are placed down onto cold porcelain and you shiver before warm water runs over your body. It felt heavenly, the water massaging your skin warming you from the outside in. You finally fall completely unconscious feeling a sense of security washing over you as the water did.

You blink open your eyes slowly, bright light penetrating your vision. You have to squint for a moment until your eyes adjust to your surroundings. You’re laying in an incredibly comfortable bed with soft white sheets and a puffy white comforter. Your dress has been replaced by an incredibly oversized matching set of pajamas. You tentatively lift up the hem of your pants and… yup this wasn't even your underwear. God how fucking humiliating. The room is large with tall ceilings and light gray walls. Bright morning light floods in from a giant window overlooking the city. A green couch faces a large TV suspended on the wall above a fireplace. To your left is a nightstand with a tall glass of water and ibuprofen. Upon seeing the glass of water you feel your tongue sticking to the inside of your mouth, your throat so dry you could barely swallow. You gulp down the water along with the pain meds greedily. Upon a second glance you realize the room has no personality, almost like a hotel room or a guest room. It didn’t seem like someplace one would sleep every night. You hear the doorknob being slowly twisted before the door opens revealing Ms. Anderson. She commanded so much space with her presence in her perfectly fitted and pressed suits complete with a tie and matching pocket square. Her hair was pulled back into a perfect, neat braid, little pieces of hair framing her face. Her strong arms and broad shoulders made her posture appear so confident she almost seemed unapproachable. Upon seeing you awake she smiles “Morning.” She says as she makes her way towards you.

“Morning.” Your voice was still heavy with sleep.

“How are you feeling?” She asks as she sits on the edge of the bed by your feet.

“Pretty good all things considered.” You manage a dry laugh.

“I would start scolding you about the proximity of your body guards, but I feel like I should let you wake up a little first.” She watches as you poorly attempt to rub the sleep out of your eyes, yawning a little as you do.

“No, no you’re definitely right, learned my lesson.” You pause for a moment as you remember the question that was lurking in the back of your mind since you woke up. Should you even ask?

“My clothes…” You start to say, not exactly sure how to approach this conversation.

“Oh yeah,” Ms. Anderson blushes a bit “One of my maids, Clara, she was the one who changed you and stuff, I-I didn’t um-” Jesus Christ you managed to fluster this 30 something year old woman, reducing her to an incoherent mumbling mess. “Your dress is over there.” She points to the nightstand. “I would have had it washed, but I wasn’t sure if there was a special way you liked it done or something. Wouldn’t want to ruin it since it looked so good on you.” She smirks and now you’re the one blushing.

“Th-thank you, I appreciate not having to sleep in that.” You look at her through your lashes, a flirtatious smirk pulling at your lips. You and Abby get lost in one of your staring contests gazing at each other as a silence falls over the both of you.

Abby is the one to snap out of it, “Oh-uh I should get going I’m going to be late. I arranged a ride home for you. My driver is waiting at the front.” She gets up fiddling with her shirt cuffs as she starts walking out of the room. “And if you want to talk about what happened with someone, just let me know. I’m a good listener.” She smiles for a moment before it falls into a frown. “I wish I didn’t have to leave. I feel like a dick, but I swear I have an important meeting, I-”

“It’s ok,” You smile, cutting her off before she continues apologizing. “I have Dina to talk to. Go to your meeting, don't be late because of me.”

“Ok I’ll see you soon.” She smiles and stares at you for just a moment too long before leaving the bedroom, closing the door behind her. Holy shit what a night.

As soon as you get home you have a debrief with Dina over the phone, ranting to her about the whole thing. It starts out lighthearted as you and your best friend over-analyze every one of Ms. Andersons’ actions, feeding into your crush on her. Dina makes sure to throw in an occasional “She’s literally in love with you” and “You have to make a move on her or something she wants you”. You laugh her off, but you secretly enjoy her feeding into your delusions. The discussion inevitably turns into a bit of a therapy session. You can’t stop the tears slipping from your eyes as you realize that a simple night out can so easily turn deadly for you. Being a normal woman in her 20s able to party and go out to clubs was so far out of your grasp. You almost died last night and it wasn’t even that rattling, you constantly end up as a damsel in distress despite your best efforts. You knew how to fight well, knew how to use a gun and knives, and yet it was never enough.

Dina tells you about her night in excruciating detail, but you liked to live vicariously through her. Her descriptions of her experiences made you feel a little more informed and a little less like an innocent virgin. She never made you feel lesser than her for your lack of experience though, she rarely even talked about your lack of experience. She was a good friend like that: smart, but didn’t make you feel dumb, beautiful without making you feel like shit, she always made sure you knew you were her equal.

For the rest of the day you allow yourself to mope in your room and recover from the toll the previous night took on your body and mind. You daydream about Ms. Anderson and her strong arms, imagining how she could use them to pin you down as she did whatever she wanted to you. You wonder if she might use her tie to restrain you as she fucked you dumb with her strap, or teasing you with a vibrator until you were begging her to let you come, completely at her mercy.

Unbeknownst to you Abby had come to your apartment to check on you. When you didn’t answer the door she assumed you were asleep and used the spare she asked for from your bodyguard last night. She had debated bringing you back to your own place, but couldn’t resist the opportunity to have you sleep in her bed. She felt gross using that situation as an excuse to be able to smell you on her sheets, but she was getting desperate. She was looking forward to coming home all day and fucking herself with her fingers whilst pressing her nose to the sheets. Ultimately she decided to visit you first, not being able to resist an excuse to see you.

She walks in and immediately notes the homey feeling that resonates throughout the large apartment. Colorful rugs, warm lighting and plants immediately make her feel at ease. It felt like you, it made sense. She envied the ability to capture personality through decorations.

Abby makes her way to what she assumes in your bedroom. As she gets closer she hears you whimpering, she peeks through the crack in the door worried you were having a nightmare or were in pain, but oh she was so delightfully wrong. She saw the beautiful sight of you squirming under your sheets, the soft buzz of a vibrator humming through the dark room. Your eyes were closed, head tilted back as you pressed the vibrator to your clit. Abby couldn’t look away, it felt so incredibly wrong and dirty but she could not bring herself to walk away. She watched as you spread your legs further apart, begging for more. Your whimpers morph into quiet moans as you turn up the setting and Abby is starting to feel an unbearable ache grow between her legs at the sight. You let out a quiet, whiney “Oh fuck” and Abby almost cums in her pants. You turn up the setting even further and Abby can’t help but wonder how much you could take, imagining overstimulating you to the point of tears. She absent mindedly allows her hand to cup her cunt as she continues observing you. Suddenly she hears you whimper Ms. Anderson please, and she is immediately grounded. She rushes out of the apartment, quietly closing the door behind her. She gets home and locks herself in her room, stuffing her fingers into her dripping cunt and cumming over and over to the memory of your sweet voice calling her name.

The next time you see Ms. Anderson, you weren’t expecting her. You were at a dinner with all the men from the inner circle and their daughters. Abby was the only woman and didn’t have children, so naturally you had assumed she wouldn’t be there. But here she sat, listening intently as one of the men told a story about some deal gone wrong. She was across from you, and she was just so captivating to look at. Her usual suit was swapped for a white button down, dark gray vest and black tie. Her muscular arms strained against the fabric, making you practically drool. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows perfectly displaying her forearms. You let your eyes follow the veins from under her sleeves to her hands, trying to memorize the way her hands looked as they rested on the table. She hadn’t caught you staring yet, so you decided to be bold, sliding your foot under her pant leg. She didn’t move. You start to move it up, higher, higher, until Abby subtly shakes you off. You accept the rejection, feeling slightly embarrassed until she moves her foot to touch yours. She slowly slides it up and down your bare leg, still refusing to stray her attention away from her current conversation. You shake her off and kick her lightly under the table before getting up and heading to the restroom. She finally averts her gaze to look at you as you get up.

As you walk to the bathroom you silently hope she understood your invitation. To be honest you really didn’t know exactly what you were asking for, all you knew is the tension between you has grown to an almost unbearable point and you were tired of waiting and yearning. You walk into the ladies room, purposefully not locking the door behind you. You face the mirror and begin to fix your makeup, fixing any smeared mascara or eyeliner. You lightly wet your hair trying to tame any fly-aways. Just as you begin to give up waiting the door opens. You turn around, back to the sink, and face the door. It could have been anyone, but thank fuck it was her. She has a slightly frustrated expression on her face as she looks at you. She closes the door behind her, locks it and turns to face you. She leaves mere inches between you two despite the ample space in the bathroom. She looks down at you for a moment, her size was even more staggering when you were this close. You feel a sort of powerlessness, but it wasn’t a negative feeling, it was thrilling. Ms. Anderson gently grips your chin between her thumb and index finger and forces you to look up at her.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing princess?” She asks in a low, hushed tone. You can’t answer, all you can manage to do is look up at her as a smirk appears on her face. “You really have no idea how tempting you are with your little dresses and this little innocent girl act.” She inches closer to you, her lips centimeters from yours. “I’m not even sure it’s an act.” She laughs, “and on top of it all I’m not allowed to have you,” She uses her other hand to caress the side of your thigh and you let out a small gasp at the feeling on her hand touching your bare skin. “To be honest that just makes me want you more.” She uses her grip on your thigh to lift your leg up, hooking it around her waist. Your back is pressed into the sink, hands gripping the edge of the porcelain, her body pressed against yours. She still hasn’t moved any closer, her lips barely grazing yours. You can feel every breath and word she utters from her lips on yours. Neither of you dare move, scared to shatter the moment that each of you have been craving for so long.

“Ms. Anderson?” you breathe out, the words fanning onto her soft lips. Abby sighs at the sound of her name coming from your mouth.

“Fuck it.” She kisses you. Perfectly.

It’s not too soft, not too hard, it was just what you needed. She was so soft and warm, you couldn’t help but melt into her strong body. You whimper softly and she deepens the kiss, her tongue teasing your mouth open. Her grip on your thigh tightens a bit at each little sound you make. Her hand moves from your chin to your jaw, her grip is so, so gentle, like she’s scared to break you. You move one of your hands from the sink and press it against her chest, trying to keep yourself steady.

Abby is the first one to break away, even though it’s the last thing she wants to do. “W-we can’t do this here.”

You look at her, desperation taking over every fiber of your being “Please Miss, I can’t-”

Abby sighs “Just wait until the end of dinner, go home- I won't be far behind you- and I'll meet you there. Sound good?” You nod eagerly “Words princess.”

“Yes, sounds really good.” Abby smiles and peels herself away from you. She smoothes out her clothes before heading for the door.

“See you soon, princess.” She says before slipping out the door and heading back to dinner like nothing happened.

lmk what y'all think! reposts and notes always appreciated 💕💕💕

#abby x you #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby the last of us #the last of us 2 #mafia! abby #the last of us

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pigeonpeach · 5 months ago

Text

A casket for one but a grave for two

Jingliu x dead foxian fem reader

Random drabble because i haven’t written in too long!!! This isn’t edited so please excuse me if it suck!!!

Also warning: reader is dead :(, desecration of a corpse/ gravesite (Its not sexual) but jingliu misses her wife and digs up her grave to celebrate what should’ve been their anniversary, angst

The night is young, the moon is full land vibrant. Its bright pearlescent colors match what remains in the casket Jingliu digs up, its lid its released as the stench of death washes over. The swordswoman doesn’t falter though, the smell of a skeleton is better than the smell of the battlefield. They’re still dressed in the beautiful hanfu she saw them in. When flesh hung on their skull, a constant pink would linger on their cheeks. They used to smell of the ocean with sea themed perfumes, their hair was always well kept, she’d run her fingers through it when stressed. The hair has since fallen off. But Jingliu isn’t herself anymore. She knows that. Something grows within her. Those cursed yellow leaves climb out if her throat with a heavy and hurtful cough, as if the roots of the ambrosial arbor grew within her lungs and tore at her veins. This day was one tragedy already, years ago, her beloved having passed in wore. Their death… the cause is starting to blur. Jingliu wonders if this cursed disease will rid her of everything, her love, her life, the memories of her wife… What had she done to deserve this cursed fate? She fought valiantly, she held her ground, and the aeons or whoever wrote the details of fate decided to play the cruelest joke on her. That her beloved would lay alone in the ground, and she would be unable to join them… not anymore. Perhaps it was the pain of the roots and leaves growing, perhaps it was the anger and homicidal reaction that drove to such extreme. In her worst moments in life, her wife was there. The sight of her alone would ease tension, her hands would work into her shoulders and her voice was the siren’s call. But she’d never hear it again, she’d never see her again. The mara cannot revive, at least that she knows of. Yingxing’s corpse had been fresh when Dan Feng committed that sin. But there is no muscle ontop of the bones, it’ll do

“Tonight is lovely isn’t it?” Jingliu held the skull of her lover in her hands with the gentleness and fondness she did in life. “Today.. today would be our 40th anniversary..”

“Actually it would be our 100th.” Jingliu could hear her say that in her head.

“It doesn’t matter the number. What matters is just how much we love each other right?” She peered into the skull, trying to mentally piece the flesh onto the bone, the eyes into the socket, the hair into the skin, but it was blurry. She felt a surge of distress, no.. she couldn’t forget. She can’t forget her. She couldn’t protect her to the end the least she can do is firmly protect her memory. Jingliu hissed in pain, clutching her head as it began to spiral with thoughts. A storm brewed, a flame ingited, a endless stream of water filling the room (metaphorically), sowing thd seeds of a rage and berserker that could cause her to further fall into the trap of mara.

“Jingliu~” a voice called, a siren’s melody that cleared the air in a instant. The night was quiet now. Nothing made a sound. Not the heliobi roaming in the gardens, nothing. But the silence didn’t feel threatening, she couldn’t explain it. She looked back at the skull. “Fight as you’ve always had. That is my wish. Do not let my death hold you back.. save them.. for me.. please..” Jingliu’s wife’s final words to her acted like a slap as she held the skull to her chest.

“I avenged you dear.. Hoolay.. he is locked away.. tortured for eternity.. never will he be able to hurt your people again.. you didn’t die for nothing.. I promise you.. I did it..” Jingliu wept silently, staring at the moon, as if to pray.

“I love you.. Jingliu..”

“I love you too, for eternities and centuries.. my love will never die even if I someday become a wretched beast.. I promise even then will your voice be my medicine…” Jingliu pressed a kiss to the skull, her lips only meeting hard snd cold teeth. She laid back on the ground, the skull on her chest, wanting to enjoy this peace for a little bit longer

#hsr imagines #angst #jingliu x reader #fem reader #reader is dead #short #appolgies if this isn’t lore accurate idont remember the quest that well #wlw #desecration of a corpse #yeahhh

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mermaidgirl30 · 1 year ago

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✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

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courtingchaos · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

I didn’t edit this, barely read it over, and it has no title. Just trying something new with spitting some stuff out to get the ideas moving again. These cogs are frozen.

Professor Munson Masterlist

“You’re home early!” You shout from upstairs.

Ed shrugs out of his coat and throws his bag on the bench by the door. “Yeah. I was trying to beat the traffic before it started snowing.” He’d gotten out of the parking garage and directly into said traffic, cursing and yelling the whole time. Two hours later he’s finally home albeit in a sour mood.

“It’s snowing?” You’re moving between rooms, he can hear your voice shifting and he has to stop himself from telling you to look out a window. Instead he just nods into the empty foyer while he empties his pockets onto the table there and he wonders when he got so much furniture that he has dedicated entryway pieces.

“Are you in a good mood or should I leave you alone for a bit?” Your head pops over the railing with a smile.

“Why?”

“I have a surprise but I don’t want a bad mood to ruin it.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“I didn’t say you I said your mood.”

Ed sighs and rubs his eyes till his vision color bursts. “Give me a minute.”

“Okay.” Gracious as always to his old man moods you move into his office and he can hear you futzing with his set up in there. The static of speakers coming to life and the shuffling of his records follows him into the kitchen where he stares into an open fridge with no purpose.

It’s November and that means it’s time for his brain to betray him and remind him of his mother. He always does better on the anniversary of her death but something about her birthday gets him. 51 missed celebrations and if he lets his thoughts linger he’ll have another breakdown in the kitchen. This morning had been an accident, his shuffle throwing on ‘Stand By Me’ and Ed had the pleasure of crying into his English muffin before he realized he was running late. He’d deftly avoided music for the rest of the day and driven the whole two hours in silence out of fear of getting stuck in gridlock and getting sucked into another crying jag.

You’ve given him space the past few days with his distant behavior. Noncommittal grunts answering your questions and quiet stares that follow you around the house. He knows he’s being difficult but he can’t seem to pull himself out of it. However you seem to be his saving grace, taking his silence and doing what you can with it. Gentle touches to let him know you’re there, fingers combing through his hair in the middle of the night when he should be asleep. Instead of him bringing you coffee on Sunday you’d gotten up a full hour before him to complete the ritual. Crouched beside the bed to wake him up quietly, a light finger along the shell of his ear.

“Good morning.”

“Mm.”

“It’s cold out today.”

“Then get back in bed.” He grapples at your hand lazily to try and pull you over him and you let him. Flopped over his chest awkwardly he wraps warm arms around you and for a moment you think he’s already drifting off again.

“Ed?”

A beat before he takes a deep breath and you feel the catch under you. “I miss my mom.”

“Oh hun.” It’s the last thing you say for a while. Fingers card through soft curls and hold his head to your chest and he gets to be vulnerable for a while. Head buried in you, he lets his coffee go cold.

He thumps up the stairs slowly and you come out to greet him on the top step.

“You feeling better?” You’re hiding something behind you, hands tucked tight behind your back to keep his prying eyes away.

“Moderately. What’s the surprise?”

“I’m not telling you out here, come on.” You hold an empty hand out to him to guide him into his office and into his chair.

“So. I spent some money today.”

“Is that the surprise?”

“Kind of. There was an estate sale down the block, you remember Mr. Donaghue?”

“Yeah, the old man who yelled at me for having pumpkins on my stoop after Halloween?”

“Exactly.” You giggle at his outburst. “Well as you know, he passed away.”

“Mm.”

“Don’t be like that.” You circle around the desk to his record player and point a finger at him. “He wasn’t all bad, he just didn’t like pumpkins.”

Ed hums again but you continue, grabbing a square package wrapped in newspaper to drop in his lap. It’s heavy when it hits and he gives you a confused look.

“It turns out he was quite the music collector. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many 8-tracks in my life.”

“Did you buy me a stack of 8-tracks?”

You swat at his knee and lean on the corner of his desk. “Just open it.”

The top record sleeve in the stack is red and blue and worn around the edges. Otis Redding smiles up at him and he can feel his throat get tight.

“I heard you listening to it this morning. Sorry.” Your smile is a little sad. “I know these aren’t her’s, but these are all original pressings.”

Under Otis is a sleeve in plastic, Muddy Waters’ face turned to the ceiling. He can hear the the mournful picking of ‘Louisiana Blues’ coming from a distant memory that he’s been pushing back for a few days.

“They cut me a nice deal, his kids. I told them about you loosing your collection and his son was moved.” You laugh and run your foot up his leg, a soothing motion without smothering him in a hug. Eddie is speechless. A stack of records that rivaled his moms collection. Etta and Eartha, John Lee and T-Bone. There’s a few early Bill Withers and Marvin Gaye.

“This is, uh.” His voice catches and he can’t look up from his new stack of treasures.

“I know you’ve got a lot of these already. Records and digital, but I saw the dates on them and couldn’t help myself.”

“No I’m…this is very-” Eddie clears his throat. He brings a record up to his face to sniff inside the sleeve and a tear escapes finally. “Oh fuck me, they smell the same.”

You’re behind his chair to wrap your arms around his shoulders, cheek resting on his head while he quietly disintegrates. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you upset.”

“I’m not upset.” He pats your hands resting on his chest before he stands to put the Muddy Waters record on. It skips and statics for a moment before catching on piano keys. He stares down at the record spinning and listens to a pressing just a few years older than him.

“This might be the most old man thing I’ve ever done.” He tries to crack a joke and thankfully it lands with you. A soft giggle behind him before you slide your arms around again to hook in front of him. You’re warm against his back, grounding. Solid and present while he gets lost in his memories.

“Did I ever tell you about the blues bar my mom worked at?”

“No, that sounds amazing.”

“Yeah,” He wraps his arms around his middle to hold over your own arms. “That’s where my dad met her.”

You make a sound of approval between his shoulder blades and nuzzle into him. “So he had good taste in music at least.”

Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Eh, sometimes.”

“So what was she doing?”

He knows you’re goading him into a better mood, something you’re very good at. You have a remarkable gift to plant new memories next to the old. Roots not full of rot, uncrowded by the same trauma, grow around the old and bring green sprouts back into old hurt. He’s sure you’d say something similar about him but right now he’s misty eyed and finding old memories new again. Rose tinted for sure, but with new color in the margins.

“Well, bartending. She knew the night manager, family friend or something, but she wanted to get into shows free so…”

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fic #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson Angst #Eddie Munson x Reader #My Fic #My Work #Professor Munson

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simplydannie · 8 months ago

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Previous: The Set Up || The Set Up: Rescued

A small story inspired by, and written for @grinnworld!

An accident occurred at the Rage Dome taking Veneers life. Floyd is left distraught, his colors fading. He has a chance to leave… but he has one twin left… and he can’t leave her behind.

Floyd could hear his brothers call out his name as he slid through the opening of the door. Branch and Clay could escape with the gray Trolls that released them…. He had another mission in mind… find Velvet, and get her out.

He hid under any furniture he ran into, he wasn’t going to risk getting caught, not again…. He needed to get her out, he couldn’t loose her too.

As he ran to find her, tears began to sting his eyes, his colors almost diminished… his thoughts went to what happened at the Rage Dome....

“VENEER!” Velvet had cried out as the platform he was on snapped in half. He remembered seeing her stretching out her arms in hopes she’d catch him. He remembered seeing Veneers terrified face as he fell to the depths below….

“I’m sorry Vennie…” Floyd whispered to himself as he wiped the tears away, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”…

Voices were heard coming down the hallway. He came to a halt as he realized there was nothing to hide behind. Looking up he spotted an air vent…perfect, it was big enough for him to fit through. Using his hair, he lassoed himself up into the vent. Floyd peered down to two staff Rageons walking and talking amongst each other.

“They found him dude.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“It ain’t. They found him dead. I wonder if they’re going to sue the Rage Dome for this.”

“They have too…Faulty tech lead to his death…It’s all over the news now.”

Floyd leaned his head against the walls of the vent. He tried to restrain the tears that wanted to come out. Mistress had told Velvet the truth…he was dead…but was that the entire truth? The blame was on faulty tech, but he knew it was the cunning plans of the Mistress that ultimately lead Veneer to his death. What was her gain? Why him? Was it because she couldn’t fully control him?

Whatever the matter, he had to put those thoughts aside to find Velvet. He decided to continue down the path of the vent, peering through openings till he could find the right one. He had to hurry. It would only be a matter of time before someone went back to find the Trolls gone. As Floyd ventured he heard the sound of distant footsteps…but they weren’t coming from below, they were coming from the vents. He turned to find Branch and Clay heading towards him.

“You guys followed me?”

“Of course we did! Come on we got to get out of here. We got to go find Bruce and John Dory. The Bergens didn’t have them, that means they have had to escape.” Branch said.

“No. You go. I’ll find my way to you. I have to go find Velvet.”

“The girl? Floyd, she tormented you! Used you. Abused you! Why are you going back and risking everything for her?” Clay asked.

“Because she’s family….and right now I’m all she has…” Floyd looked towards his brothers, “I’m done running out on family. I learned my lesson…I’m so sorry Bitty B.” Tears began to fill Branches eyes as he spoke, “I should have never left you like I did. You were to young, to innocent. You endured so much all alone. I should’ve been there….We all should have. I practically walked out on these kids too. Like you, they were too young and innocent, and i walked out on them. Now look.” Floyd began crying, “One of them is dead. If I had just brought them out with me like I promised, he would still be here. I can’t do that to Velvet now….” Floyd fell silent as he couldn’t get any more words across…

Breathing heavily, swallowing his tears, Branch walked up to Floyd placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked his brother in the eye, “Then go get her. We’ll know how to find you. Just please, don’t get caught again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Velvet sat at the foot of her bed. Her legs were curled to her chest, her face buried within her knees. The TV was on, the dreaded words were repeated over and over again….

Pop Sensation Veneer Found Dead After Rage Dome Incident. Agency and Sister Have Yet to Release Any Comments.

Pop sensation Veneer found dead….

Veneer found dead…..

Found dead…..

Dead….

The words echoed in her mind….Her brother was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. There was no closure, no goodbye, he was taken away from her just like that. Velvet buried her face again as she screamed, tears stinging her eyes. There was no comfort from anyone…She was just sent to her room to mourn alone.

Veneer would’ve come, he would’ve comforted her, he would tell her that everything would work out…that everything would be okay…But he wasn’t here to do that anymore…Just the memory of a ghost now.

“….I’m so sorry Vennie….” She cried, “I’m sorry….I love you….I never told you enough…” Her sobs grew deeper and harder as she couldn’t control herself. Then again she didn’t want to. All Velvet felt right now was hurt and pain. She pulled at her hair screaming into the air. Digging her nails into her head, she began rocking back and forth. She just wanted this nightmare to end, she wanted to see her brother walk in through that door.

“Velvet?” She heard a soft voice.

“Vennie?” She looked up towards the door…but there was no one…Only a small little Troll standing aways from her, “What happened to your colors?”

Floyd looked down at himself, “…There gone… Once I heard what happened too…” He paused, Floyd couldn’t bring himself to say it again.

An anger rushed over her, “WHOSE FAULT IS THAT! WHO WAS THE ONE WHO WAS GOING TO WALK OUT ON US! LEAVE US! WHO FLOYD?!”

“I know Vels, I know. And I am so sorry… It’s something I am going to regret for the rest of my life.” He told her.

“Get out! Go away! You’ve caused me enough pain already!” She curled herself into a tight ball, hoping that it would cause her pain and this world to vanish.

“I’m not leaving you…Not again. I’m here for you Vels.”

“I don’t need you….I need Vennie…..I want him back…I want him back so badly…I want to hear his stupid voice again, his stupid little face….I want my brother back.” Her shoulders shook as she cried again. Floyd wanted to say something…but what could he say…she didn’t trust him anymore, she didn’t want him. He walked up to her and placed a hand on her foot.

“Get away!” She attempted to kick him off.

“I’m not going anywhere. As much as you hate me, as much as you want me away. I am not leaving you…I’m not making that same mistake again…I don’t want to leave you alone Vels, I want to be here for you…Ven wouldn’t wanted you alone..”

“He wanted us to be a family. And look what happened!” She looked at him…A pink hue glowing around her eyes.

Floyd should his head, “No, don’t do this. I don’t want to loose you too. Listen to my voice and come back. Come back to me please.”

The pink glowing brighter as her feelings grew stronger, “He’s gone. He’s gone and he’s not coming back. I don’t have anyone now. Not mom, not dad, not Vennie. I’m alone…I’m alone…I don’t want to be alone.” She dug her nails into her head again, pulling at her hair as if somehow that would take this wretched pain away.

“Hey! Listen to me! You’re not alone! I’m here! I came back for you. I couldn’t flee with my brothers without you, I couldn’t.”

Pink still around her eyes, she began to rock back and forth, “…..You loved Veneer more….You always did….Of course you would….He was more open to you than I had ever been… He adored you… he was your favorite.” She closed her eyes and turned away from the Troll. “You never cared for me the way you cared for him…”

Floyd lingered in silence for a moment, could his heart break anymore? All this time, she had thought Veneer was the favorite? “Oh Velvet, no, no, no. I care for you both of you just the same! I’m sorry. I’m sorry if it seemed that way! I never intended… oh my god, I’m so sorry Velvet!” He couldn’t look at her in the eye, he felt so ashamed…He could tell she wasn’t use to this. From what the twins had spoken, their parents loved them both the same and showed it.

“I failed you Velvet…. I’m so sorry….” He began to cry, “Forgive me? Please. I will never know if Veneer forgave me, but I hope you will. I thought I was doing good… I thought you knew I loved you both..” He bent down hugging his knees crying his heart out. “I’m so sorry…”

Moments passed as he felt himself gently being lifted. He looked up to see he was now at eye level with Velvet. “I’m sorry too…” She whispered, finically looking at him in the eye, “I miss him Floyd.”

“…me too…but your not alone. I’m here for you.” As he was close, he noticed something on her lap. Velvet looked down to see what he was staring at. With a pout on her lip, she brought it out to show him.

“…it’s his stupid purple beanie…” Her lip quivered, “His stupid purple beanie he would never take off…” she held it to her heart and hugged it tight. Velvet brought the small Troll close to her, holding him tight along with Veneers old beanie… she imagined him there along with them… embracing them….a small little family again. Floyd leaned on her, extending his arms as far as he could. Hector small fingers brushed against the beanie, the last little remnant they had of Ven.

“I’m here Vels… it’s going to be okay…it’s just us now. And I got you.” He said. The grayness in his body began to go away as his color was slowly coming back… this is what he needed, “I love you Vels, always know that. I love you.”

Velvet let out a small sigh of relief at the words she heard, at the words she needed to hear. “I love you too….”

“Let’s get out of here. Let’s leave this wretched place.” Floyd exclaimed.

“No. Not yet.” Velvet sniffed wiped her eyes. “I don’t believe what the news is saying.”

“What do you mean?”

“…. This wasn’t an accident…. That bitch is going to pay.” She said with a determination crossing her eyes.

Normally Floyd wasn’t one to hear her cuss or encourage such thoughts and behavior… but this was the last straw. Mistress had gotten away with to much, she wasn’t going to get away with this. Floyd smiled looking up at Velvet.

“That’s my girl.”

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 11 days ago

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Imagine the reader reacting to Loki sacrificing himself to save all the timelines.

Pairing: S2!Loki x Reader

(Writing this made me so emotional yall don’t even know-)

“Loki— Loki, please don’t.” I pleaded looking into his eyes, I knew what he was thinking before he did.

“I have to.” He said trying to walk past me, but I was quick to grab hold of him.

“Please just.. just think this through.” I said, holding onto him, but forcefully but still with that same gentle nature he only used with me.

“There’s no time for that, alright? I need to do this.” He takes a napkin from his pocket and hands it to me.

I began to unfold it, but he stops me. Eyes locked onto mine and he shook his head. “Not yet.

“I’ll miss you dearly, my dear.”

“I’ll miss you too.” I looked away and wiped the tears from my eyes. I had been so strong and so in control of my emotions, up until this very moment.

He gently turned my face to his and placed a kiss to my forehead, my cheek, then my lips. I held onto him for dear life.

As if it would keep him here.

Yes, the world and all the multiverses and timelines would all be destroyed, as well as us, but at least we’d have still been together for it.

It ended all too soon we notice more of the branches were breaking like little rubber bands.

He let me go and headed towards the stairs. He looked at us all once more before descending them. The door shut behind him and Mobius and Sylvie danged on the door.

“Open the door.”

“Loki. What are you doing?”

“I know what I want. I know what kind of god I need to be for her.. For all of us.”

“No!”

“Loki!”

I watched as his clothes, began to deteriorate right in front of our eyes, and began to transform into his signature green color. He unraveled all the timelines and began to grab each one and they began to light up green.

Loki walked off the gangway causing a staircase to form under his feet, a door way opened up for him and he walked into it.

Taking all the branches with him.

All of it. Gone.

No timelines.

No explosions.

All of our worries supposedly gone.

I’m glad they are, but I’m not glad I can’t wake up to Loki every morning. I can’t see him, I can’t talk to him.

Nothing.

Not saying no one else has that same issue, not being able to have another conversation with him again, but I’ve been with him since we were kids.

Him using his power to show me cool things, I’ve never seen before. He used to do it all the time, but now I’ll never be able to see it again.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N)? Are you alright?” Mobius asked shaking me, forcing me to come back to my senses.

I looked around and everyone was standing above me, all this thinking and I didn’t even realize or react to the pain due to me falling to my knees.

“You fell after Loki saved us. Do you want to talk about it?” O.B. said.

“No, I don’t.” I said standing up with the help of Mobius and walked towards the doors to the room.

“I think you really should tal—”

“I said, NO!” I exclaimed and the chairs and stuff in the room got flung.

“I think you should leave her alone.” Victor stammered out eventually, gripping onto his bag for dear life.

“Give me your TemPad.” I held out my hand to O.B.

“But— But— it’s mine..”

“‘But nothing. Give me your TemPad.” I demanded, causing him to sigh and hand it over. I put in a destination, and walked into the door.

No one dared to stop me. I needed this and they knew I did.

I ended up going back to Asgard when it was still built. I seen the younger version of myself laying on my bed. Someone knocked on the door.

“May I come in?” The voice asked, and little me didn’t respond, but the person still came in anyway.

I watched as little Loki came in clearly holding something behind his back.

“(Y/N)?”

“Go away, Loki.” I mumbled, but still directed my voice at him.

“I came here to—”

“I said, GO!” I yelled at something was thrown across the room in his direction, with my powers. It didn’t hit him and I didn’t want it to, I just wanted to be left alone.

Was that so hard?

“I’m not sure, what’s upset you— and I’m not asking you to tell me. I just.. I just want to show you something.”

I didn’t say anything to him a part of me wanted nothing from him, but the other part wanting to see what it was he had.

He crept closer to my bed, slowly sitting down on the other side, so my back was turned to him.

I watch him reach out and hover his hand over my back. He wanted to rub my back, but didn’t want to anger me more. So, he pushed the thought out of his head.

“Here it is.”

“Show it to me.”

“I can’t exactly do that, if you’re facing the other way.” He said. I huffed and sat up, with the blanket still covering my lower body.

I grabbed the item and opened the bag there was a bracelet in it.

The handkerchief made of cloth you could only find in Asgard. It was green, with a yellow border and our initials embroidered into it.

The bracelet had was made up of jewels you could only find in Asgard, and small versions of the runes on it, spelling out our initials on it too.

“Loki, It’s so pretty, where’d you find this?”

“Had someone hand make it. Fine work, they did.” He moves closer gently taking the piece of jewelry and held it underneath my wrist. “May I?”

I nod and watch him put the bracelet around my wrist. He was done in seconds, but still held onto my wrist to admire it on me.

He mentally shook himself out of the trace, I didn’t even know I put on him, and looked at me.

“Look now we match.” He said and took out a matching handkerchief, with our initials embroidered into it.

I couldn’t help, but smile at it.

“Are you still mad?”

“A little bit..”

“Good, I’m glad I could help calm you down even if was just.. a little bit.” He said standing up and went to my room door, taking the handkerchief with him.

“Loki?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Thank you. For everything.” I said, and he smiled. It wasn’t one of those fake, mischievous smiles he does. It was a genuine smile, and he didn’t do that for just anyone.

“Of course, my dear. Sweet dreams.” He said, closing the door behind him. I watched myself fiddle with the bracelet, before going to sleep with it on.

I opened the napkin and the item itself fell out and I rushed to grab it before feel off the roof, I was sitting atop of.

I hid the item from my eyes, not wanting to ruin the surprise, until I read the words on the napkin first.

‘My dearest (Y/N),

I know you’re angry and upset with me for this, but I knew what I had to do. And it was necessary for you to continue living.

I want you to know, I do not regret doing all the things we did together as kids all the way to adulthood. I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

I know it’s going to take some time for you to forgive me, and that’s okay. I found my glorious purpose, and I know you will too.

I love and care for you and I will never stop loving and caring for you, my dear.

Sincerely yours, Loki.

P.S. I still have mine.’

After reading it, I held it close to my chest and cried. Crying till my eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

I was a little confused on what the post sentence meant until I realized, I had still been holding onto the item Loki put in the napkin. I slowly opened my hand. And what I had seen almost made me cry harder, if that’s even possible.

I open my hand to reveal the bracelet, Loki had given me before.

I hadn’t worn it, due it to it going missing. I was so devastated that I didn’t want to tell him that I did. I didn’t want him mad at me for being so careless.

I laid down on my back and stared at the sky. I raise my arm to admire the bracelet in try natural glow of the night sky. I smile at it vowing to never take it off, unless necessary.

It warmed my heart to hear that, Loki’s out there somewhere, controlling and watching over all the branches of time, with our handkerchief close to his heart..

#x reader #wattpad #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black!writer #all inclusive #sad imagines #loki series #mcu loki #loki fanfic #loki x black!reader #marvel loki #loki x y/n #god of mischief

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