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daycourtofficial · 8 months ago

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Secret exchanges

Summary: a few weeks after the aftermath of Rhys’s banishment, your mate, the new High Lord of the Autumn Court, has a secret meeting with someone from your family.

Author’s note: this is set pretty soon after I am ash from your fire ☺️

Warnings: furthering my sexy Eris agenda by letting him be a smidge cunty

Word count: ~1k

“Shadowsinger.”

“High Lord.”

The titles were exchanged with tense tones as both males look each other over in hopes of finding a nearly fatal wound they could exploit. Coming up short of that, the two watch each other with uncertain gazes, this meeting marking something new.

The Illyrian steps closer, holding out a box in his scarred hands. The new high lord accepts the parcel, looking inside to ensure everything is accounted for. Underneath the lid, the box contains six beautifully decorated mint chocolate cupcakes from the bakery you adore that’s nestled in the heart of Velaris.

“Are condolences in order?”

Eris sneers at Azriel’s taunting tone, snapping the lid to the cupcakes, “only to the foolish noblemen my father made rich. It feels as if everyone in Autumn can breathe properly now that a foul stench has dissipated.”

Males of lesser intelligence could have pieced together the timeline between Rhys banishing you from Night and Eris assassinating Beron within a 24 hour span. Despite his feelings for the red head before him, Azriel was impressed at how swiftly he took the reins.

Azriel inspects the male before him, somehow standing taller than he had previously seen, as if the weight of the world were lifted from his shoulders. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight passing through the trees, and he looked as if the Earth had molded him herself. He almost glowed beneath his skin, as if his veins crackled with pure fire.

Azriel knew Rhys was blowing things out of proportion by banishing you, and Azriel, along with the rest of the inner circle, had no idea how to help you or to let you know that they didn’t care.

Well, they did care. They cared a lot. He and Cassian alone spent several hours sparring trying to work through their rage at the Cauldron’s choice of mate for you.

They weren’t thrilled by this situation, but ultimately they understood that this wasn’t your choice, and while it is your choice now, Azriel of all people couldn’t hate you for trying to make your mating bond work.

He wanted to hate you, though. When he was first told of your banishment, he wanted to destroy your room, destroy any and all memories of this betrayal. He spent days in a fog, running through his meticulous backlog of scheduling to figure out when and how such a ‘relationship’ had occurred.

He had finally left his room in a rage and was on his way to your room when he ran into Nesta, where she practically dragged Azriel by his ear to the training ring. She forced Azriel to spar with her, forcing him to talk about why it hurt so badly.

It would be easy for him to write off your banishment as the right thing to do under the guise of his hatred for Eris. But the real truth, settled deep, deep down in his bones, was that you were the only other member of the family who wasn’t paired off.

He felt less alone when you were around. Not that he had any inclinations towards you. It just didn't feel as crushing with someone else to share the burden. Now with you being gone, albeit not of your own accord, he felt that loneliness seep back in, that deep desire for someone to love him wholly.

But now you’re off, banished not only from your court, but from your family. Rhys had commanded all of them to cease any contact with you directly.

Technically Eris was a workaround.

Azriel could never deny you, especially not when it came to your obsession with the cupcakes he just handed to Eris, the two of you sneaking off on several occasions to satisfy the sweet tooth you shared.

Despite every part of screaming to do so, he couldn’t deny your mate when he came to the shadowsinger, asking for an olive branch.

Azriel cleared his throat, not wanting to spend anymore time with the newly appointed High Lord, but still needing some update on you, “how is she?”

Eris sighed, mulling over how to answer the shadowsinger. His thoughts went to you, and how you always spoke fondly of Azriel. You’d never keep the truth from Azriel, despite keeping the mating bond from him. You hated not telling anyone in your family, a topic of conversation you and Eris constantly circled back to.

“Coping as you would expect,” the new high lords words making Azriel feel worse than he did before. The shadowsinger’s eyes move to the ground, and in a rare move, decides to extend an olive branch of his own.

For you. He would do this for you.

“I don’t agree with Rhys’s actions.”

Eris raises his eyebrows, “ah, so the dogs can disagree with their master.”

Azriel’s snarl causes Eris’s lip to curl in a smirk, but he holds his hands up in surrendor.

“I never expected you or the other one to ever disagree with him, at least never admitting it to me.”

Hazel eyes meet amber, a mask over his features as he slits his eyes in warning.

“Don’t make me regret disagreeing with Rhys.”

Eris’s expression softens at the Illyrian despite the obvious threat lacing his words. He looks down at his fingers, inspecting his nails as if he can't be bothered to look at Azriel anymore.

“If I ever do anything that would make you regret it, you and the other brutes may come and dispose of me yourselves. The honor would belong to you, if she doesn’t wish to collect.”

Azriel turned to leave, but was stopped by Eris’s voice.

“Before you go,” Azriel turned as Eris procured several sealed envelopes with your handwriting on the front.

“I was instructed to leave these with you.”

Azriel grabs the letters from Eris’s hands, as if he would burn them in front of the Shadowsinger, taunting him further with any contact to you.

In his hands lay several letters, each one addressed to a member of your family except for Rhysand.

Eris’s voice chimes back in, “she wanted to write to him. Couldn’t find the words.”

He shrugs, turning his back on the Shadowsinger as he starts walking back through the orchard, flowers blooming all around them.

“Or perhaps she knew he would skin you alive if you delivered it to him before he was ready.”

#eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader #acotar fanfiction #forgot to tag when I posted this smh

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ofstarsandvibranium · 6 months ago

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Precious Truths: Part 4

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

The next day, your Aunt Eliza takes you to the modiste for new dresses. The ones you had gotten earlier in the season "wouldn't do anymore" according to her. Now, you had to stand out more, make yourself look more appealing. Corsets were tighter, hugging your figure more and making you breathe less.

Your aunt is holding up some fabric against you when Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton enters the shop with an annoyed Eloise following her.

"Good afternoon, Lady Bridgerton," you greet the woman with a kind smile.

She observes the fabric held against you, "Well, that is a beautiful fabric. It goes well with your eyes."

"Thank you," you give her a small nod.

Violet clears her throat, "I assume things are...well now?" The dowager does her best to be discreet.

"As well as they can be, Lady Bridgerton," you respond.

After Aunt Eliza brought you home, your father was asleep, still cradling a bottle of brandy in his hand.

You confessed to Aunt Eliza about your secret identity, about your writings. She was proud to know that you never truly gave up on poetry as well as how famous your words were becoming. However, she was saddened that you felt the need to hide your ongoing love for poetry from her. She expressed that she would have helped you, that you didn't need to hide that love from her, especially since she also loved your mother like her own sister.

Aunt Eliza became even more determined to help you out of the situation.

Although your father and Aunt Eliza are siblings, none of the luxuries of your father's lordship well onto her. She also never found someone to marry, becoming a spinster and learning to become content with it.

She can only do so much to help you, given that your father still has the funds to help. Thankfully, your Aunt Eliza had stepped in to help manage the finances.

"Remember, dear, if there's anything you need, you let me know. We are happy to help," Violet says as she places a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. Your family has always been so kind to me."

Violet gives a smile and greets your aunt, the two moving towards a shelf of silks that catch their eyes. You move to Eloise with a grin, whose face is the complete opposite of yours, "Everything alright, El?"

She groans, "You disappoint me. Mama, says you're taking this season more seriously now and that I should do the same. I blame you for this!"

You let out a deep breath, "My condolences, but, trust me, this wasn't the plan either."

The young Bridgerton steps closer to you and whispers, "What happened? Anthony and Benedict were talking about you this morning when we were breaking fast."

You blow air out of your mouth, "My father threatened to marry me off to my dreadful cousin if I am unable find a husband within a month's time."

Eloise makes a pondering face and then asks, "Is it the cousin that visited a few summers ago? He tried to best Anthony in everything?"

You scrunch your face in distaste, "The very same."

Eloise shudders, "God, he was...appalling."

"Yes, and there is absolutely no chance I am marrying him. So, you see, I'm lacking a choice." You give her a pointed look and she nods.

"Oh, Y/N," Eloise hugs you, "We shall both get through this together."

Aunt Eliza calls from the door, "Y/N, make haste! We must continue!"

Your shoulder slump forward, "I'm coming!" you give Eloise a wave and follow your aunt out.

______________________________

Benedict's in the sitting room, sketching in his notebook. He's sketching a pair of eyes, ones soft and full of wonder. The very pair that belongs to you, the eyes that he loses himself in.

"Here," parchment falls over the sketch and Benedict sits up, looking at Anthony, who's given him the paper.

"And this is...?"

"The list of eligible men for Y/N."

Benedict gulps as he reads of the names, sitting up to read the list "No to Harris," he says with a shake of his head and then grimaces, "Absolutely not to Woodrich."

"What's wrong with them? They're from good standing families, no scandals-"

"That you know of. I hear Harris has been visiting the brothels far too often lately. Woodrich apparently invested in the empty mines that Lord Featherington spoke of last season. So he has no money."

Anthony gives his brother an annoyed expression, "I shall cross them off the list, but the rest of them?"

Benedict hands the paper back to his brother, "I suppose they're alright. But Y/N gets the final say, obviously."

"So you have truly decided you won't do anything about this whole ordeal?" Anthony asks his brother in disbelief.

Benedict stands with a sigh, "Yes, brother. I have. I won't do anything but assist in Y/N's search for a husband. That is final." He steps aside, striding out of the room in annoyance.

Hyacinth, who sits with Gregory playing a game of chess, shakes her head, "I always thought Y/N and Benedict would get married."

Anthony nods, "As did I, Hyacinth," he murmurs and also exits the sitting room.

____________________________

No longer were you able to be a wallflower when it came to balls, soirees, luncheons, etc. You and Penelope had been wallflowers together since both of your debuts. However, now Penelope is on her honeymoon with Colin, so you are left to fend for yourself.

You now stood more towards the front, more accessible and noticeable. You hated it. You hated how people looked at you when you attended the next ball with your new gown and different hairstyle.

When you saw the Bridgertons, you immediately rush up to them, clinging onto Benedict's arm.

"Please dance with me," you beg in desperation, yearning for some sense of familiarity.

"Of course," Benedict takes your gloved hand and leads you to the dancefloor. When he looks over his shoulder, Kate is winking at him and he rolls his eyes.

You curtsey as Benedict bows before the next dance, a waltz. With the strings, you and Benedict move as one. Swaying to the melody, bringing each other in close.

"Thank you, Ben, for dancing with me."

"Of course. It is tradition at this point, is it not?" he gives you that cheeky grin that always makes your heart flutter.

You sigh, "Might be the last time I get to dance with you for a while. I should probably prioritize potential suitors."

Benedict's smile slowly fades, "Yes, well, Anthony came up with an impressive list. I overlooked it as well. You might find some of them...agreeable."

You hum as you circle Benedict, "Are any of these men here now?"

Benedict takes a quick glance around the room, "A few of them. Shall I introduce you?"

You shake your head, "No. Thank you, but it is probably best I do that myself. You might scare them off," you give him a smirk and he chuckles.

"That is a fair argument. If I am quite honest, I don't think any man will truly be worthy enough for you."

You arch a brow at him, "Oh?"

He nods, "You're...everything and so much more."

The way he says those words, you feel like there's something more to them. He relayed them to you so breathlessly and he's looking at you with a gaze that makes you feel as though you two are the only ones in the room.

As the dance nears its end, you and Benedict are face to face, so close to lips touching. However, when he inches closer to you, you pull away and curtsey.

"Thank you for indulging me, Mister Bridgerton," you walk away from him without another word, fanning yourself as you grow warm.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

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sanemistar · 12 days ago

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irreplaceable — kento nanami

contents ★ nanami x fem!reader, heavy angst, hurt no comfort, major character death, 0.6k+ wc. requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

it had been well over a year since kento's death, and your life had turned upside down entirely. your days had become tasteless, your life had become dull and gloomy. you lost everything the moment he left, you lost your heart which was taken by him on the day of his funeral, you lost your cheerful, bright self and became nothing but an empty, hollow shell that was so lifeless as if it was dead. you went from someone who loved life to someone who barely lived, waiting for the day you die just so you could be reunited with kento once more. but most importantly, the biggest loss of all that you had ever experienced was the loss of the love of your life, the one and only man you’d ever loved.

to you, kento was a lover that comes only once in a lifetime, he was simply irreplaceable.

your tears began falling down like heavy rain as you sobbed uncontrollably, sorrow washed over your heart yet again. you leaned against the wall as you let your body fall down and collapse on the ground.

then you remembered the words of your friends who told you that time would heal, and that you’d eventually move on and find someone new. but neither time healed you nor did you find someone new.

you tried going on dates with multiple men, desperately trying to find someone who was as good as kento, you kept searching desperately but to no avail. how could you ever find someone like that? your heart only recognized kento, and it refused to give in to someone that was not him.

“i miss you ken..” you mourned his loss all over again as your heart clenched painfully.

“i honestly can’t tell what's more tragic: the fact that i keep looking for you wherever i go, or that you're never there anymore.” you spoke in between your heavy sobs.

"i'm desperately looking for you in everyone i meet, but none of them is you.” you proceeded. no matter how many men you met, and how hard you tried. this would remain the truth, no one else could ever come close to kento. none of them could ever be nearly as amazing and loving as him, he was basically the perfect man. but unfortunately, you lost him. and you had to try your hardest to survive without him, how awfully cruel life was.

you lifted yourself back up and headed to the nightstand next to the bed that you used to share with kento where a picture of you and him was neatly placed. you grabbed the picture and carefully held it in your hands, the moment you did you immediately chuckled. memories of that day vividly resurfaced in your mind as if they were only yesterday, it was a slightly blurry selfie that kento took when the two of you went on your first amusement park date together for your first anniversary celebration upon your insistence because his arm was longer than yours so it made more sense that he’d be the one taking it, but because he didn’t know how to take pictures it came out a bit shaky. regardless, you insisted that you keep it to remember that precious moment forever.

no matter how much time would pass, your grief would still remain. the part of you that was broken could never be fixed, but you would try your best to live on still. because you were so sure that was what he would’ve wanted. the many memories of you with kento that he left you with would make it a little less difficult, and would maybe be able to serve as the only condolence that would fill in the lonely void.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @stunies @17020 @itoshivy

#nanami kento #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #kento nanami x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago

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Atheist condolence card like "sucks that your grandpa no longer exists and you'll never see him again, oh well"

I mean, I'm looking for a condolence card for a Jewish family (found a pretty good one, will be adding a note about a shared memory of the deceased and hopes for the mourners that their memory may be a blessing).

But also I have no idea why people find the concept of an afterlife comforting. Legitimately, that is unappealing to me and the idea that I would be artificially separated from the people that I love and reintroduced to them after a period of separation if there was no need for that time of mourning and loss seems. Bullshit? It seems like bullshit? Capricious and cruel at best?

Anyway when my grandpa died we got a phone call when they tossed is ashes into the ocean and we never saw him again! Being reminded that we wouldn't see him in an afterlife wasn't the sad part, the sad part was knowing that we wouldn't know him anymore, that we'd be on one side of a growing divide, that there was a before and an after and we had left him behind while we had to move forward. It wouldn't have been comforting to think "well perhaps someday when I have lived my life without him, I will see him again in a place where nothing from this life (all the things that I have done, all the things that he taught me) will matter because they were worldly and unimportant."

What was comforting at that time, and after the very many family deaths that I have experienced (and I've experienced a lot! I've been comfortable with the idea that I'll never see my loved ones again when they're gone since I was a very small child!), and what I suspect is comforting even for religious people who have experienced a loss is to be reminded of the people who are still on the same side of that dividing line, who we can still love and adore and support and make memories with.

Anyway. I'm an atheist at least partially because of my grandfather, who was a magician and a skeptic and took great joy in skewering the supernatural. It would be an insult to his memory to think that he was an angel lighting up a star in heaven or whatever the christian condolence cards say.

My grandpa did a sexy comedy magical immolation of my grandmother in front of crowds; there was a devil on the flier.

(grandma's the one on the right)

Pictured: Not someone who had much reverence for death or much patience for the supernatural:

(Funny story, when my dad came to visit this week he saw a 2-post 52U server rack on the driveway from a distance and asked me "where did you guys get the guillotine? Did I leave that here?")

But my family is probably *unusually* atheist and irreverent.

For atheists in general I don't know why people think that it's more upsetting to acknowledge the truth (that once people are dead you won't see them anymore) than to be told "comforting" lies (that you will see dead people again at some mystical place that you have no access to or proof of).

I *hate* hearing "they're in a better place" when I'm mourning someone I loved because that's something that's comforting for a religious person to say but dismisses both the way that I mourn and (frequently in my family) the beliefs of the deceased. They are not in a better place, they are *gone* and I don't want to imagine that they're somewhere waiting for me to join them again, I want to remember them for who they were and accept that they aren't in my life anymore.

"They're in heaven now" "they're with the angels now" "they're with their maker" - none of those things are true and they reflect an extremely limited worldview that I don't share and find pretty insipid actually! Thank you for trying to comfort me you are doing a poor job of it I'm going to go hang out and talk to someone who actually knew them and we'll share stories of what an asshole they were and what kind of crazy nonsense they got up to and what a big, important part of our lives they were and we'll start trying to make sense of how to fill the hole left behind with something practical and joyful and fun and honest that they would have loved instead of cardboard angel wings.

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idanceuntilidie · 1 year ago

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Can I request a yandere!cowboy x male reader please

I tried my best it’s the first time i wrote a cowboy and in the middle of my research i got distracted by home on the range sobs

In a small town the news spread like wildfire, it is very typical and you expected that.

Your pa passed away recently, and he passed his farm onto you. Tired from the noise of the city you decided not to sell it but just move in.

It wasn’t easy, getting up at the crack of dawn was hard getting used to and the farm was huge. You wondered how in the world pa was able to take care of everything himself.

Well the answer came to you actually, on a beautiful black horse.

You were running around the farm, trying to find the forage for pigs.

When you noticed someone on a horse riding in the direction of the farm. You stopped in your tracks as you watched a man hop off the horse.

Hm, you have an intruder on your farm.

You should do something, but you only watched as the stranger took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair.

“My my, aren’t ya just a cutie”

Your face burned when his honey brown eyes looked into yours. You didn’t know if it was from the sun of the hot cowboy that appeared out of nowhere.

Noticing your state you saw him chuckle lightly.

“I’m Cassidy, I helped your pops when he was around, my condolences by the way” “Oh OH it’s fine really uh uh I’m Y/N”

And thus that’s how your friendship bloomed, Cass helped you around the farm and in return you cooked for him. It was peaceful, almost.

The only weird thing that happened was people in the town thinking you two were together, when you asked Cass about it he laughed and said it’s just some rumors that people liked to spread.

Haha yeah there is no way he could be feeling something towards you right? Right?

The question buzzed in your mind as you groggily opened your eyes to see that you weren’t in your room but in the kitchen tied up to a chair.

What in the world happened to you?

The sun was shining brightly at your face, making your furrow your eyebrows and eyes gloss over, then you heard a familiar chuckle.

“Cass..?” You croaked, feeling so tired.

“Hi Sweetpea, slept well?”

“What did you..” you groaned in pain, you heard Cass get closer to you, grabbing your face

so you would look at him.

“ ‘m so sorry that it had to come to this sweets, you’re so dense it was cute”

His grasp was harsh, painful even. It made you whine in pain.

You closed your eyes out of pain.

Cassidys hot breath tickled your face, as you felt him lean in and kiss you.

“You’re mine now sweetpea”

#yandere cowboy #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x male reader #male yandere x male reader #x male reader #x reader #male yan #cowboy yan #tw yandere #yandere blog #oc yandere #yandere x darling #yandere oc

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darkfaceuwu · 23 days ago

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Yandere Sunday x reader

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In Penacony never rains. That's what everyone say, but today I found out real meaning of rain. A cruel twist in my fate becauss of one crying man...

How did this madness start? What happened? Is this a dream or a nightmare? Y/n a young beautiful woman, was walking carelessly at night , coming back from work as always . In Penacony there's no danger , everyone is enjoying their time and it seems that nobody notices lurking silhouette in the shadows. I was no different.

As I turn in the corner of a street alley , I notice him. There's a man with wings, certainly a halovian, in what it seems a suit, looking elegant and noble, and he's staring at me like a hawk. In shining moon, I register his golden eyes . They're beautiful, but what I don't realize is the glint in them . A glint of desire and obsession.

"Ahem, I'm sorry to startle you, miss. " he smiles at me, closing his eyes to look more friendly. " I'm Sunday, the head of Oak family. I would like to ask you some questions which you could answer me as a citizen of Penacony. Would you mind sparing some time for this?"

I gulp. I'm not ready to answer questions as a citizen of Penacony. Why? Well, because I'm a trespasser of planets. My job is to get information about planets , for example their economy, how much finances they have or their history and etc. and sell them to other opposing planets. I get good pay. As a fake citizen, I get invested in politics, and that's the most valuable information to sell, and I don't have to lift a finger to get them. But now, as we face each other, I realize that this man is dangerous and he knows very well who I might be.

I try to fake my enthusiasm to answer him. "Of course, Mr. Sunday. I would be pleased to answer any questions to the head of family. It would be a pleasure. Just you standing here is so unbelievable in a good way . Am I blessed by a miracle?" I wonder if this is going to please him.

"Good to hear, Miss...?" He's waiting for my name. I would like to lie to him right away, but something tells me in my gut to not try or was it someone?

"Y/n, that's my name, but you can call me whatever you want, sir." It's better to get on his good side..

He repeats my name. I'm unable to hear him as he quietly murmurs to himself. "What a beautiful name for a lady like you. But now I would like to ask you the question, nothing scary, just an easy one, a simple one." I hold my breath. He smirks at me , one hand on his hip, and he confidently looks at me , knowing he caught me red-handed .

" What kind of cage would you choose? A rotten one or a secure one?" Sunday utters quickly, making me lean closer to him. When I realize what he uttered, he's looking at me or, let's say, looking down at me with condolence with his darkened eyes.

"I- I wouldn't like to be caged in the first place..." I whisper my words. This is the end for me . He figured me out. This question is just an option for my room in jail, isn't it?

"Hmmm, well, there are just two options, only one you can choose. Your side note thoughts aren't important right now." Sunday've tried to quicken my thinking. And as he intimidates me, he gets what he wants from me.

"I would choose a secure one...." That's my final answer to him.

"Great to hear, then I would like to welcome a new tourist here in Penacony personally." Sunday says with a smile on his face . A group of men so-called hounds surround us, and everything fades when Sunday touches me and leads me away.

........................................................................................

Now maybe a year went by or maybe more. Who knows? I find myself in a literal cage, a white one , a big one enough to have a kingdom sized bed with most luxurious pillows and blankets ever seen. It looks pretty but otherwise very humiliating . I have a bell to ring for my needs for shower, toilet , food, and drinks. But I never thought I would feel so lonely. The only one who sees me is my captor. And half of the day is out to work to my relief. If he would be here, he would right away scold me for my messy room , my only room. He enjoys also punishing me. Making fun of me . And degrading me of my hopeless situation.

As I am in my thoughts, footsteps are heard. " Darling, I'm home." Sunday declares, not even inside the very basement, he has me locked up.

"Welcome home, Sunday." I never realized I've been trained like a dog by him . This sentence was advised to me to answer him, but by whom?

The clinging of keys and creaking of door is only heard in this cage . A relaxed expression on Sunday's face. Does he know what day it is today?

"Suday..... today should be my leagal release from prisoment..." I'm trying to be hopeful and have a hope for my freedom. After all, he should follow Penacony laws, right?

Sunday chuckles at me. "Darling, do you remember the first time we met?"

"I think so." I hesitantly answer him. " it was in black alley, right?"

Sunday looks at me and nods in agreement. " Yes, this would be our first meeting in Penacony. But do you have any idea that we met for the first time in Dreamscape?"

"A dreamscape..? I can't recall if I've ever been in Dreamscape, but I think I would remember it."

"Well, I don't blame you for not remembering." Sunday says calmly. " After all, you were the first person to experience rain there." Sunday fondly chuckles ar that thought.

" That's impossible. In Penacony, never rains. What are you up to with this questioning?" I raise my eyebrow at him.

He hums. " Well, our meeting started with questions. But you were the one to start them. And I finished them just for you." He smirks bitterly.

I start to remember something. I heard a voice but not a human one, when I was little. I've been running around in Penacony, a family trip, and I've got lost. As I was running , I saw a monster and when I tried to run away, I fell down in what I thought was hole but it was another dream. And then I saw two entities. One of them had 3 heads of woman , body from puzzles, and then other one was broken , only a big eye, and then the whole closed face was seen. The tears from a broken diety fell down, and I was teleported to another dream. There was a little halovian boy, crying alone. Holding a bird with broken wing.

I was a little shy, but after seeing the bird, I rushed to him without thinking.

"Is the birdie alright?" I asked concerned.

The boy was startled by me . After getting courage to look at me, his cheeks start to heat . He shows me a bird, and he hints at his wings.

"It doesn't look good. Will you keep him?" I ask the mysterious boy.

" I would love to, but my sister thinks this bird belongs back to his nest." He quietly mumbles, still softly crying.

"Hmmm, but wouldn't the birdie safe in pretty cage? Think about it. If I were the bird, I would like to be safe without worries in a pretty cage. It's the best option for it." I tell him in quizzing tone and tries to coax him to agree.

Little boy then looks at me and softly nods. His tears stopped. " True, people like birds would feel happy in cage taken by loving owner. In that case, I should keep this little one."

"Hehe, look at you it seems raining stopped." I chuckle at him.

"Raining, but in Penacony, never rains." He tells me, confused.

"Well, it did stop right now." I smile at him.

He suddenly gets shy, and then, after thinking long enough time, he tells me: "You're pretty like this little bird here , full of colors. Could I also keep you in my company?"

I consider his words, and as a stupid kid, I thought this was his way of telling me to be his friend.

"Of course,you can. I would love to. As I can see you're good friends with his little guy so why not have a room for me?" I grin at him.

Sunday gives me an o-shaped parted mouth, surprised by my declaration, and happy with my answer. He smiles at me and tells me:" Then I promise to take care of you like I would take care of my precious birdie here."

The dream stops, and when he is about to ask me, "What's my name?" I wake up with my mom shaking me worried. As I stir, I can't remember anything of my roughly awaking from my slumber.

The memory bubble in my head is cleaned now. And as I stared at my captor, proclaimed as my lover. I see even the little boy in him. And my question is now answered.

When will he RELEASE me? Never BECAUSE he PROMISED TO TAKE CARE OF ME, didn't he?

He reads my expression correctly and tugs me into an unbreakable hug.

"Dear, I promised to have you forever, didn't I? Our meeting was in order for this to happen.~" He sighed happily, nuzzling into my hair, while I wondered why I twisted my fate when I stopped the rain.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

The end~

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #sunday x reader #sunday x you #yandere #yandere sunday #yandere sunday x reader #yandere sunday x you #dark romance #yandere honkai star rail

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junowritings · 1 year ago

Note

hi there ! i love your writing! could i request floyd with reader who genuinely cant tell if someone is being platonic or romantic to them; maybe them finally realizing floyd's affections towards them aren't just platonic? ty!!

Oooh all I can say is my condolences to poor reader lmao. Had so much fun imagining how this would pan out this was a cute idea! I'm glad you enjoy my stuff - hope you enjoy~ 🧡

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♡ Oh, well this is going to be so much fun for Floyd.

♡ Floyd recognizes a crush when he sees one. You’re a good match - you keep him entertained, and have the uncanny knack to get him to actually do things he’d usually get too bored of and ditch at a moment’s notice (Azul’s been trying to figure out how you manage that with no success because you have no idea why he listens to you either). Not to mention all of those cute little quirks and things that you do which the eel just can’t get enough of.

♡ And of course there’s your reactions too. The way your lips quirk when you smile, the sound of your laugh and the noises of surprise you make when he swoops in when you’re least expecting him. The way that you squirm when he pulls you into those notorious squeezes of his, thankfully nowhere near as bone crushingly tight as the ones that he’s subjected some poor unfortunate souls to. Floyd adores getting any kind of response out of you.

♡ It is glaringly obvious that he’s interested in you, at least to everyone else, and Floyd’s got no problem making it known either. The only issue is that you haven’t noticed yet. It would get on his nerves a little knowing that you have no idea that his affection isn’t just platonic, but that quickly fades once he realizes how fun this has the potential of being. Just how far can he push that obviousness until you finally realize he’s interested in ya?

♡ It’s light teasing at first. Well, as light as it can be coming from a Leech twin. Floyd’s already naturally pretty casual with acts of intimacy, always throwing an arm over your shoulder or leaning up against you whenever he’s in the nearby vicinity. So why should you assume anything’s up when that arm on your shoulder squeezes you close against his side, and lingers a little longer than normal? Or that he's just a little bit clingier than usual, resting his head atop yours or on your shoulder and looping an arm or two around your side whenever you’re near each other?

♡ But then come the little gifts. Little things that have caught his eye and he doesn’t think twice about dropping into your hands the second that he sees you. Gifts from Floyd can really be anything, from things he’s found and borrowed but ‘forgot’ to give back, to things he’s gotten from trips back home and practically shoved into your hands the second he’s back. You start to question the reason behind his gifts, and start to notice other signs too.

♡ When you come to the Monstro lounge Floyd will take food from the kitchen and add them on as freebies whenever he feels like it. He doesn’t bother telling Azul or Jade, but they’re already well aware and aren’t entirely inclined to stop him since getting you to spend time at the lounge means Floyd’s a lot easier to manage.

♡ Gets upset if you share it with your other friends though - it’s for you, and he’ll say as much when he pushes the treat closer towards you, making sure to keep it out of your friend’s reach. Ace complained once about all the freebies you’re getting, trying to prod you to find out what you did to get the Leech twin in such a good mood and if he could convince you to get him in the eel’s good books, all the while trying to steal a bite from the free dessert you’re picking at with your fork. That is until he catches Floyd looking at him from at the bar; he’s grinning but there’s not a hint of the fondness like when he looks at you. The message is clear - hands off, and you’ve never seen Ace give up on stealing your food so fast in your life as he almost shoves the dish into your blazer pushing it back to you.

♡ You’ve always struggled to discern platonic from romantic feelings, not wanting to immediately assume one and get it wrong only to make things awkward afterwards. So even once you suspect that something’s up, it’s hard to work up the courage to actually approach it. You doubt Floyd would make things awkward if you were wrong, but you doubt your pride could handle the relentless poking and prodding he’d subject your feelings to if you were wrong about him liking you. Staying quiet about it and just enjoying these little moments seems like the safest bet, right?

♡ You made the mistake of asking his brother once, but that was no help at all. If anything it left you feeling even more confused because do you really think that Jade will break the surprise so soon? Floyd isn’t the only one getting a kick out of watching you struggle to put the pieces together, and Jade is thoroughly entertained learning how oblivious you can be to what Floyd’s actually trying to do. Those little gifts of his aren’t just for show - they’re telltale signs of a merfolk’s interest to date you. Oh dear, it really is such a shame that he forgot to mention that little tidbit to you, isn’t it?

♡ There is a point where things get serious. The moment that Floyd decides that he’s fed up toying around and running circles around these feelings. Gets a little miffed realizing that you still haven’t figured out that these little gestures aren’t just something he’s doing for the hell of it - sure, they’re entertaining, but his patience wavers quickly at the best of times. Eventually, Floyd’s going to get tired of this game. Playing games with you is fun, and he loooooves teasing his lil Shrimpy and watching your face turn into all different funny expressions while you try to figure out what exactly his angle is. But there are better things to play, and this back and forth is coming to an end sooner rather than later.

♡ Doesn’t care where it is or who’s around to notice, as soon as he sees you after deciding he’s done messing about you barely have enough time to greet him and ask what he’s doing before you are quite literally swept off of your feet with the force of his hug. His arms are tight around you as he hugs you close, and it’s just tight enough that you have a sinking feeling that he’s going to squeeze you like you’ve seen him do to the people who break Azul’s contracts. You’re trying to wrack your brain to figure out what perceived slight you did to earn the backbreaking squeeze you’re sure he’s about to give you, maybe even mentally leaving Grim all of Ramshackle’s tuna in your imaginary will. Then he stops, chin hooking over your shoulder and that one dark strand of his hair tickling your face as he presses his cheek against yours with

♡ “Hey, Shrimpy~ ya know, you got to be real dense to miss that I really like you. Maybe I gotta prove it~?”

♡ The whole time he’s saying this, Floyd is dangerously close to giving you a nibble or two. Your only saving grace is that he’s much too interested in the reaction that you give him once you realize what he’s said. His mismatched eyes rake in every detail; the way your eyes widen almost comically, mouth dropping open like a fish trying to sputter your way through some kind of response to what was basically a confession. It’s so funny! This is the reaction he’d been waiting for, and he’s not gonna relent until you really understand that this is way more than simply liking you.

♡ Let’s just hope you don’t mind the squeezes, because that’s not letting up either. Why would he let his shrimpy go when it’s better to just keep em right by his side? Especially when he wants to hear what you’ve got to say now that you don’t have to stress your silly little head over if he likes you or not~

#twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #floyd x reader #twst floyd #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland #twst x reader

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stormhearty · 10 months ago

Text

Pairings: Former Rhysand x Reader, Feysand, Tarquin x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Triggers: mentions of depression, relapse, attempts at suicide

Summary: It has been two decades since you left Night Court, leaving the life you had always known. It had been five years since you were in Dawn Court, slowly healing with the help of its High Lord. Now, you had resided in Summer Court, Tarquin by your side through your healing process. But when a mating bond snaps between the two of you when your health turns for the worse, how would you process something that you never thought would happen in your immortal life? And when you decide to confront your former family, would you forgive them for their past discretions? The story of the aftermath of your broken heart of glass.

Note: From this request! Thank you so much for wanting a second part to “Breaking Like Glass”!! I love that everyone enjoyed that fic’s immense angst, so I will gladly give you guys the fluff, romance, and healing the reader needs. And I do hope this isn’t cheesy. I struggled a bit on writing this, whether to debate to make it angsty, but I feel like, it has enough of the balance. Please do enjoy!

Breaking Like Glass | Masterlist

“You know, my stardust, you don't have to do this… We can have our mating ceremony with our family. We don't have to invite Night Court…”

You let out a thoughtful hum as you lounged in one of the lounging chairs in Tarquin’s office, book in hand. You placed a finger on your page before looking over your shoulder at the High Lord of Summer, who looked at you with concern etched on his beautiful features.

After centuries of being with Rhysand, you had always thought that you would be content in not finding your mate. You had thought, and wished, that you would have eternity with the High Lord of Night Court. However, with the fiasco two decades ago, all you wanted to do was heal — fix your broken heart and mind from your torture from Under the Mountain, to fix your broken soul from being ripped apart by your family. You did not want to fall in love — you didn’t want to give your taped-up heart to someone and be worried about having it torn apart again.

You had safe-guarded your heart behind high, metal walls with a fog of darkness to protect it — to protect you from breaking all over again, and losing yourself once more.

But what you had never dreamed of was a mating bond to snap.

And you never thought it would be with another High Lord.

The very moment you had stepped into Summer soil, Tarquin had been nothing but kind and gentle, helping you through your decade of healing. He allowed you to take your time — he allowed you to wallow, he allowed you to be silent, he allowed you to grieve, something that you never were able to do while you were in Valeris. He allowed you to cry in anguish, he allowed you to cry in pain — he allowed the forty-nine years of suffering to seep out of your aching body. And he was silently there, beside you, watching over you… to ensure you were safe and well cared for while you did.

And that was all you could have wished for while you were healing. You didn’t need words, you didn’t need condolences… Tarquin allowed you to heal in the way that your heart and mind needed.

All the while Tarquin healed your broken soul that came upon the betrayal from Night Court, you would be sent back to Dawn Court to mend your mind and body from the tortures of the Attor. The two High Lords worked in tandem with one another… all for you. Both Tarquin and Thesan realized your worth, both realized your importance and believed it was worth their power and time to heal you.

It had been five years since you came from Dawn Court when the mating bond snapped between you and Tarquin.

It was when your nightmares had resurrected themselves from the grave, haunting you thoroughly to the point you had relapsed back from your progress.

You had screamed and clawed against everything that had neared you, your eyes frantic at the absolute fear and dread of returning to that moment in your life — the pain of the Attor and betrayal of your husband, that still lurked in the darkness of your fear. You had hurt yourself, multiple times during that relapse — skin broken with knives, daggers, broken glass — anything that your hands got to… hoping for the pain to seep out of your skin.

But Tarquin was there through all of that — grabbing and hiding everything that you could try to hurt yourself with. He fought tooth and nail to get to you, whispering sweet nothings — that you were worth it, you were worth the pain and anguish, that you were worth everything. And that you would get through the pain — and that he’d be right beside you through it.

You couldn’t feel it, the glow of the mating bond between the two of you — for you were too shrouded in your fear to notice.

All the while, Tarquin felt every emotion you had felt — the despair, the anguish, the pain that wracked your body. He fought back all the tears as he held you against him, pouring as much care and love through the newly found bond.

The relapse had taken an immense hit on your health — you were sick for weeks on end, going in and out of consciousness barely able to make out who had been taking care of you.

When you had been well enough, you had learned that Tarquin, himself, had been the one to care for you during your illness. And you, though you shouldn’t have been, was surprised at that fact. The High Lord of Summer Court took time away from his busy schedule to tend to you. He had owed you nothing… and yet he had taken time to care for you.

“Why did you do that…?” you had asked, storming into his office, pausing mid-step when you had seen Thesan and the Captain in the room. It seemed that you had interrupted an important meeting between the two High Lords — possibly about your condition.

Tarquin looked at you for a moment, a gentle sigh escaping his lips as he looked at Thesan and gave him an apologetic nod of his head. Thesan glanced between the two of you before standing up from his seat on the plush couch and heading your way. The High Lord of Dawn smiled at you, leaning down to press a kiss onto the crown of your head, “Hello, my child… be nice to him…”

The request was confusing to you as you allowed the High Lord and Captain to step out of the room, the click of the door resonating behind you — leaving you and Tarquin alone in that grand room. The atmosphere grew awkward and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip, you glanced everywhere besides the High Lord, and you heard him let out a chuckle.

You frowned, glaring at him slightly before watching him stand up and walk towards you, reaching out a hand for you to hold, “We have much to talk about, (Y/N)…” he murmured.

You stared at his hand, sighing softly before reaching over to place you had on top of his. His had always radiated warmth that you seemed to want to grasp onto often — it was warm and inviting, much like the summer sun he had ruled over. You followed him further into his office, walking past his desk and onto the large balcony overviewing his Court. There was a large settee that Tarquin led you to, sitting you down before he sat next to you, leaving a gap between both of you.

“Now… What was it you were saying, (Y/N)? About why I did that?” he questioned, turquoise hues staring at the massive land of his Court, allowing the summer breeze to greet the two of you.

Relaxing against the settee, you remained quiet for a few moments, eyes fluttering close at the breeze that tickled your skin. When you opened your eyes once more and turned your attention to the High Lord, you were slightly startled when you noticed he was staring at you — something in his eyes sparkling that you were unsure of… or slightly denied.

“…Why did you take care of me when I was ill?” you asked him, not bothering to beat around the bush, “You didn’t owe me anything, this… arrangement between us is only until I get better and can move on from my nightmares—”

“When did I say that this… arrangement is only until you get better?” he interrupted you with a raised brow, “I did not say anything like that. I am allowing you to stay until you want to leave… I’m giving you the choice to stay and to heal the way you need, unlike your time in Night Court. And, I took care of you because I wanted to, (Y/N). I couldn’t let you hurt yourself like you did, to be so haunted by your nightmares every waking second… I couldn’t let you suffer the way Rhysand let you for all those months…”

You flinched at the name of your former husband. It still ached — no matter how long it had been, it still ached hearing his name. Usually, Tarquin and Thesan avoided saying his name around you, both afraid of a possible relapse. You let out a shaky breath, as your eyes stared at something beyond him, a distant stare — feeling yourself move out of your body, a sensation that had started to become normal for you ever since you were in Dawn Court.

Feeling Tarquin’s warmth again, you blinked twice before focusing on him again a small smile tugged on your lips, and shook your head, “…I’m fine…” you whispered, head tilting down to look at your intertwined hands. You took deep breaths, something that Thesan had taught you after your moments of distance.

Tug, tug… you felt something in your chest. Your head tilted in confusion until you felt it again — tug, tug… You lifted your head and looked at the High Lord once more. You saw a twinkle in those turquoise hues, a hopeful look hidden within those depths.

“…What…” you muttered in disbelief, and you felt another tug in your chest.

“You felt it, did you not, (Y/N)?” Tarquin questioned, leaning forward slightly, warm hands gently gripping yours — as if preventing you from running away.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head, too scared for any words to escape you.

How could a mating bond happen? After everything that happened to you, your mind and body were broken, being held together by pieces of tape held together by Tarquin and Thesan — you could barely hold yourself together. Your healing process for the past fifteen years was slow, and there were many times when you believed you would never be okay again. How can someone like you be mated to another High Lord? How can someone as broken as you be another leader of a Court?

Thoughts of insecurities passed through your mind, unknowingly sending them down the newly formed bond. You were startled out of your thought by Tarquin’s hand gently caressing your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“You do not have to accept the mating bond, as of yet, (Y/N)… I will wait, you can heal. Just know that I accept you, even if you are broken and torn. You still have years of healing to do, but I will be by your side — always.”

Tears ran down your cheeks as he shifted closer, pressing his hands on your cheeks to wipe them away. All you can do is nod. Allowing the love and warmth of the bond to slowly heal you.

It had been another five years since then. A little over two decades after you left Night Court to accept the bond. For five years, Tarquin had courted you, cared for you… loved you the way you needed. He did not force anything onto you and allowed you to fall in love with him in such a natural way that it felt second nature to you.

“…(Y/N)…” your mate called out to you, snapping out of your trance.

You blinked and refocused on the present, eyes focusing on Tarquin who had moved from his spot at his desk to you, hands rubbing your shoulders. Tilting your head back, you gave him a smile, reaching up with your free hand to reach up to run your fingers against his cheek as he looked down at you.

“No… I would like to invite them. I think… I need closure from my time there. And…” there was hesitance in your voice at the next words, “I do miss them. I lived with them for centuries, and all of a sudden I cut them off my life for a good reason… there are times when I missed them.”

Tarquin hummed understandingly as he squeezed your shoulders, “Understandable. We will invite them… But I worry—-”

“—- I won’t relapse. I promise…” you moved from your lounging position to sitting up, shifting so you were on your knees, at eye level with him. You felt him wrap his arm around your waist so you were steady as your hands placed themselves on his biceps, playing around with the fabric of his outfit, “I’m better — well, as best I can be — but I know you’ll be there… I will be fine.”

There was reluctance in his features, those turquoise hues trying to find any lie in your words before he gave you a nod.

“I concede…” he murmured and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the hesitancy in his words. Pressing a gentle kiss on the High Lord’s cheek, murmuring a thank you before moving back to your position on the lounge chair, picking up your book once more.

You looked back up to just miss the shake of his head, before he wrapped a hand around your neck, tilting your head up so he could lean down to press a kiss on your lips, “After our mating ceremony, I wish for you to initiate our kisses, my stardust…”

Feeling the warmth of your cheeks you stared up at him, “If that is the wish of my High Lord, then it shall happen…”

He let out a low chuckle before pressing another kiss on your lips, your book forgotten on your lap.

The ceremony venue was extravagant, to say the least — Tarquin, as well as Thesan from what you had gathered, pulled all the stops. The throne room of Summer Court was flourishing with flowers and the summer sun radiating down through all the large windows.

You were a nervous mess sitting in your room. It was still several hours before the ceremony, that you weren’t too nervous for; it was the fact that you were going to meet your old family once more.

The Captain of Dawn, your dear friend, had informed you that the Inner Circle just arrived at the outskirts of Summer Court. And that set off your nerves completely.

You had requested, when you had sent the letter to Night Court, to meet with them before your ceremony — to officially close the wounds between all of you.

And so when a knock startled you out of your worries, you turned around in your chair from your vanity where you were getting ready. Watching those doors open to reveal your old family.

There stood Rhysand, in his Night Court attire along with Feyre, who was at his side. There was a pang in your chest, the pain of their betrayal somehow festering its way back into your heart. But it was slowly soothed out by the warmth of the mating bond that Tarquin seemed to have sent your way. The doors closed behind the Inner Circle, and you noticed the Captain of Dawn stationed at the door.

Thesan’s lover is quite a busybody isn’t he…? You had sent down the bond to your mate. And all you felt was Tarquin’s chuckle as you focused back on the now.

You slowly stood up, a small smile on your features before you watched from the corner of your eye Mor heading to a sprint and giving you the biggest hug.

“… I’m so sorry, (Y/N)…” she apologized, the words repeating on her lips as she squeezed you, burying her head into your neck.

Tears pricked the edge of your eyes as your arms wrapped around her and you buried your head to the crook of her neck, letting the blond curls tickle your face.

“… Mor…” you whined her name.

A sob wracked through the blonde’s body, “I’m just glad you’re okay. That you’re better…” she whispered before pulling back and staring at you, “I’m glad you found your mate. I’m glad that he’s making you happy — that you deserve happiness — after all the shit you went through and everything we had put you under…”

You smiled at her as you felt her cup your cheeks, nodding your head, “… — Thank you, Mor. I’m glad to see you again, truly. I missed you so much…”

A smile tugged on Mor’s features, “We will see each other more… if you let us.”

You nodded your head as she stepped away, allowing the rest of the Inner Court to greet you — hugging you and whispering their utmost apologies and congratulations.

Cassian had lifted you into his arms, something he used to do often when you were his Lady still, giving you a spin, “You will always be my Lady, (Y/N)…” he whispered into your ears, pressing a kiss against your cheek before literally handing you off to Azriel.

A giggle escaped your lips as you hugged the Spymaster as he pressed a kiss on your opposite cheek, “We will forever live with the regret of losing you…” Azriel hummed out, “We had and always will love you… But I wish for nothing but happiness for you…”

Your heart flourished at the words of your former family — the words that you had wished to hear two decades ago — slowly piecing your heart and soul back together. You had known, while you were healing, that they had always cared for you and that never meant to put so much pressure on you, unknowing of your nightmares and struggles after being Under the Mountain.

When you were settled back onto your feet, you turned to face Rhysand. The tension between the two of you was still high and you fought back all the urge to just run away from this confrontation between the two of you. You gave him a small smile before focusing your attention on Feyre who stepped up, reaching out to hold your hands.

“I am truly sorry…” she whispered, leaning forward to press her forehead against yours.

You understood why Rhysand fell in love with Feyre. You had heard of the great deeds she had done for Night Court, for Prythian… she was something you could never have been next to Rhysand. The true High Lady of Night Court.

And somehow, you were okay with it.

Shaking your head, you looked at the High Lady, “…You were just following the feeling of the mating bond. Like I said that night, I cannot fault you for choosing your mate. I cannot fault you for following the tug… I — I would like to extend my congratulations —-”

Feyre shook her head, brows knitting at your words, “Do not, please. I will not accept that not when I have unknowingly broken you along with the rest of your family. ”

You looked at her, nodding your head as you felt her step back and the familiar scent and presence of your former husband taking her place. You lifted your eyes to look into violet ones — ones that sparkled with regret, ones that you were in love with for so long.

Even if it was two decades that passed, you felt like you were still in sync with him, knowing what he wanted. Turning onto your heels, you made your way to one of the furthest balconies, Rhysand following your steps. The large window doors closed behind you, leaving both of you in a pocket of privacy away from prying ears. You could see, from the corner of your eye, the Captain making his way closer to the doors and all you could do was hold a hand up — signaling that you were fine and safe.

Turning back around, you focused on Rhysand who’s eyes were solely on you. Stepping past him, you made your way to the railing, pressing your hands on the warm marble, as you basked in the summer sun.

“(Y/N)…” Rhysand whispered one that was so quiet that the wind barely was able to carry it to your sensitive ears.

“I… I cannot forgive you, Rhysand…” you declared, eyes still closed as you let the warmth of your new home wash over you, to comfort you as you confront your past, “I cannot and do not fault you for choosing her. I can see why you had fallen for her — she’s beautiful, both inside and out. But I cannot forgive you for it. You had broken me so much, that there were many times during my healing that I wondered why I wasn’t enough for you to choose me. Wondering what I have done to make you choose someone else other than your wife who stood next to you for centuries.”

You could hear the shaky breath that Rhysand exhaled as you felt him stand next to you on the balcony.

You couldn’t look at him, every fiber in your body shaking to break again if you looked at him. You needed to be strong — for yourself and for the people around you who worried immensely for your health.

“I know… I know you would never forgive me, (Y/N). I have accepted that truth… I just wish things ended differently, you know? I wanted to let you know, that there was not a moment in our centuries together as husband and wife that I wished you were my mate… that there was not a moment that I did not love you…”

A broken laugh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes and looked up at him once more, seeing those unshed tears in violet hues.

“… And there was not a time where I wished you were my mate… But it seems that Mother had a different path for both of us. One that led us away from each other.”

You reached up, with shaky hands, and attempted to touch him; however, your body paused, and with furrowed brows, you dropped your hand back onto your side. You could see Rhysand’s body slouched slightly as if missing your touch. A forced smile tugged onto your lips as you stepped back, creating a significant distance between the two of you, “… I hope you enjoy the ceremony, Rhysand…”

He knew when he was dismissed and he smiled at you before stepping out of the balcony. You watched with longing and pain as he and the Inner Court stepped out of your room.

“… Probably it wasn’t such a good idea to have the two of you alone together…” The Captain commented, stepping onto the balcony, worry in his tone.

“I’m fine… just give me a moment…” you whispered, pressing a hand against your chest, to calm down your heart. You slouched against the railing for a few minutes, feeling the bond in your chest to help your racing heart.

“…Do you need me—-”

“No… I don’t need Tarquin or Thesan right now. They’re in their own state of panic already…”

The Captain let out a chuckle, “That is true… They have set their mind to ensure that this ceremony would be perfect…”

After calming your heart, you straightened up and gave the Captain a light smirk, “…Busybodies the lot of them…” You stepped back into your room, allowing yourself to fix yourself up before the ceremony, the Captain following your trail.

You stood on the dias of the throne room, Tarquin by your side as the priestess started the ceremony. Your gown was a lovely mixture of blue, much like the oceans that crashed below the castle. The priestess’ words had gone deaf in your ears as all you could do was stare up at the High Lord of Summer, love and affection in your features as well as through the bond.

When the priestess had asked for the two of you to exchange vows, Tarquin looked at you with the same look as you did to him, a soft smile on his features.

“Never in my life, I would have thought to find my mate. I had thought that I would rule my Court without a High Lady by my side. But that fateful day I had whisked you away from Thesan and Dawn Court, all I had wished was for you to be mine.

“My stardust…” the nickname always made your heart skip in your chest, “I had fallen in love with you… despite your broken soul and heart. I was honored that you had trusted me enough to help mend your soul from the nightmares that haunted you, and that still haunt you till this day. But I couldn’t let you know of my affections, not when you had set yourself into healing. So I waited, waited for years and when that mating bond snapped, I knew I couldn’t hold out for much longer. I needed you in my arms, I needed to have your eyes set on me — rather than looking into your past. And when you had your relapse… I had to let you know. I had to let you know that you have someone, your mate, to be with you every step of your healing process.”

You felt tears trickle down your cheeks as Tarquin wiped them away, “You deserve this bond after everything that you have been through… the Mother has gifted you this bond. And I am honored to be at the end of that string.”

A sob escaped your lips and you couldn’t even find the words for your own vows. All you could mutter to him as he pressed his forehead against yours, “Thank you… I love you, I thank you, and I am also honored and blessed by the Cauldron to have you as my mate. Thank you for mending my heart. I am glad to give it to you, and not worry about it breaking…”

You watched through a tearful gaze, Tarquin giving you a radiant smile before leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, “And I would never break it… not your heart that is precious like gemstones…”

You laughed as applause reached your ears, leaning up once more to kiss your mate.

Your heart was safe — mended together once more — and you knew it would never break again.

Tagging list: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @abysshaven @prythianpages @leahoneil @rachelnicolee

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #acotar fanfic #rhys acotar #tarquin acotar #rhysand x reader #acotar fluff #tarquin x reader #( .one shot : breaking like glass )#( .inbox request : mended hearts and minds )

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therealslimshakespeare · 10 months ago

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Dear John | Part 2

Masters of the Air Fanfiction

Series Summary: Major John Egan wasn’t the pen-pal sort but a couple of hours into a dark night full of writing condolence letters he finds himself wondering why he never tried his hand at the nicer forms of correspondence. Who better to reanimate his numb inspiration than the glamorous Miss Lana Tierney? -the army’s girl next door, the pinup so prolific she was practically a wall paper print and Bucky’s long-standing cinematic crush. It’s not like she’ll read it anyways. Right? Right.

Warnings: suggestive language, crass vocabulary, the vintage form of sexting -honestly this is mostly fluffy in reply to his more overt letter

Author’s note: after episode four I’ve got feelings and fics for this universe that are far ahead of these establishing pieces. So I’ve gone ahead and tossed this preliminary one out but I may very well skip around and ahead to October next. At least now y’all know: she wrote him back. Hehe. If it’s of interest, I’ll probably end up writing John’s reaction to receiving this response as well as Gale’s response to realizing his friend actually went and sent that awful thing.

Date: Early August, 1943

Dear John, (I’m sorry Major Egan, I just had to)

Thank you for your kind letter of the 18th. It’s been many years since I received so delightful a correspondence or so candid an expression of admiration. And you should know I keep most of the letters the sweet people of this country send me. They’re stacked in quite an orderly fashion in my various garages, kept for the rainy days to peruse and keep the blues away and also so I might try very hard to reply. I don’t take such affection for granted. It’s humbling really, always has been, to be so loved by folks but it’s another level entirely to be singled out by someone as brave and impressive as yourself.

I found your letter to be heartfelt and wonderfully brave and in an effort to be equally transparent, you should know that when I finished it I clutched it to my breast and whispered half a dozen prayers for you. Or as you might say, I held it to my knockers.

That’s an awful word, you must know that Major.

As is “rack”, for that matter, but I’ve a sneaking suspicion that you would make it sound charming as even your blotted paper was electric. How could you dare to praise my film set flapjacks and mention making babies? I’m fizzing just glancing at it. You really must be quite the fella and I’m terribly sad now that our rendezvous, such as you say it was, got cut short. You must reprimand your friend -Buck, is it?- and tell him he did an bad deed that night. There’s nothing I like better than duets and hamburgers, we might’ve been one of the great loves by now if he hadn’t meddled. But don’t be too hard on him, if he’s the sort to take it well, kiss him for me, after you chide him.

But since we are being honest, I must admit, reading your letter, being privy to your thoughts, seeing myself through your eyes as it were - dear man, I feel rather riled. Quite riled, in fact. Why, I haven’t felt riled in a while, not like this. Not like an ordinary girl with an extraordinary boy. Do you know what I mean?

Maybe you don’t.

I mean regular, old fashioned flustered. That’s what you’ve made me. And thank you for that, John. Can I call you Johnny? I wonder if you’re the nickname sort, or if you’re real stern and serious, a real John-John. Not a Johnny at all. But either way, I think you deserve a treat, for being so nice, Major Egan. For reminding me I can feel my pulse somewhere besides my wrists before a show -and for all you’re doing in the war, besides. There seems to be no safer hands to trust this to, you do seem so very fond of them, I am led to believe you’d be protective of them, too.

Enclosed is something for the personal morale, I hope you’ll think of me nightly with it at hand, in fact, I’m so excited about it I’ve taken this ill advised measure to insure you do. I’d very much like a report, do they live up to your expectations? They’re homegrown, after all, I hadn’t much say in them but now I’ve got them, I don’t see why they shouldn’t do their bit to keep you alive. A small sacrifice.

One of those reasons you mentioned, John, you’ve so many of them, more than you know. A million souls over here rooting you on, insisting you make it out the other side.

I’m forefront among them, I’ll be scanning the crowd when I come to Europe -because I will, at your invitation. Perhaps if you send me a picture of your own mug I won’t be looking a fool asking every man in uniform if I remind them of an acorn. Are you going to tell me what on earth that means? I’ve tried to work it out but I always end up with some mathematical conundrum and I just know in my heart of hearts you wouldn’t let me down like that, would you Major? It’s something awfully salacious, isn’t it? Please let it be!

I’m a vain little thing and I can’t deny the way this poor heart of mine is all pitter pattering at the thought of you being so awful while also so nice. It’s a strange blend, and rather like my coke, I do prefer my men mixed.

Best wishes, may you have cloudless skies and fresh coffee to your heart's content. My sources -and I’ve excellent ones, an upside of working the war bond circuit- tell me you’re airforce. I think that’s remarkable and I hope you give that picture some thought. Mine, and yours.

Your vain little friend,

Julia Jean Turner

P.S.-I’m only ever ‘The Lana Tierney ‘ to strangers, and we aren’t strangers now, are we? not if you’re to take my picture to your bunk. i suspect you may have already taken that liberty. who’s to say I did not take similar liberties upon reading certain stirring passages of your letter? Xx 💋

__insert vintage titty pic__

Whew this week was a doozy wasn’t it? Here’s some fluff for those of y’all who needed it, and I can promise angst soon for those who want to stay in the soul shattering mood. Hope you enjoy. Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, let me hear your screams.

Drop a comment to let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my MOTA fics. Xo

Taglist:

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

@rubyfruitjungle

@taestrwbrry

#masters of the air #masters of the air fanfiction #john egan #John Egan x oc #mota fanfic #bucky egan #dear john

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milfjuulpod · 1 year ago

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Caught In 4K

req: yes

Melissa and fellow teacher keeping their relationship a secret and someone finding out because of pictures that were sent to Barbara and someone looking at Barbara’s phone

warnings: slightly NSFW but no smut

A/N: thank you for sending this in! my requests are still open :) i’ve seen a handful of fics with a similar plot, so i tried to make it a little different. anyways! enjoy 🌹

master list

“God, Melissa,” You quietly whimpered. “I barely touched you baby,” Melissa responded, trying to hide her smile as she stood behind you in the mirror. Her left hand was occupying itself by running her fingers up and down your arm, the other hand tightly gripping her phone. “You don’t have to do much, you know that,” you admitted to your girlfriend. It was true, all Melissa had to do was look at you and you were a puddle.

To be fair, the feeling was mutual. One good look at you, and Melissa was drooling like a dog. Ever since the day she met you, she knew you would be hers, she was going to make sure of it—and make sure she did. After a few months at Abbott, Melissa had invited you to a movie at hers, which was really a ploy for dinner. She had decorated her entire back porch, with a set table and fairy lights. You often reminisce about that first real date with her. Since then, the two of you have been inseparable.

Melissa began planting kisses on your jaw and down your neck. “You look so pretty my sweet girl,” she said in between love bites. Her left hand went from your arm into your own hand, letting you grip her tightly for support as you felt your knees go weak. “Is-Is that why you have your phone out?” You asked breathlessly. “Yeah, y’know I have that trip coming up soon, I’m gonna miss you.” Melissa said. She pulled her phone up closer to the mirror. “May I?” You nodded, and let Melissa run her hands all over your body while she took photos.

The following morning, as you got ready for work, you noticed all of the red and purple marks on you. “Melissa!” You shouted from the bathroom. She, of course, came running in. “Jesus, what? What is it?” She frantically asked, looking at you and around the room for clues as to why you would scream like that. “Look at me!” You exclaimed, although the smile on your face let your girlfriend know you weren’t that mad. Melissa put her hands on your hips and turned your body to face her. Her eyes grew wide as she noticed how many marks were on you. Red and purple painted your chest, all the way up your neck.

“I’m gonna have to wear a turtleneck, and it’s almost summer. Do you know how ridiculous I’m going to look?” You asked her, tone full of attitude. Melissa offered her condolences with a sweet kiss to your lips. “You’ll look fine, hon. Sorry about the mess but, I leave tonight. I had to get in as much as I could.”

Dressed in your best attire (which unfortunately did include the turtleneck), Melissa and you headed out the door into your seperate cars. Even though it had already been a few months, neither one of you were entirely ready to announce such a thing to your overly-involved coworkers. You liked being in your little love bubble, and so did she. You let Melissa walk in the building first, and gave her enough time to settle while you sat in your own car and did a few touch ups in the mirror. After a few minutes, it was your turn.

Just as you were walking into the break room, all eyes turned to you. “Oh my god, you’ll never guess what we saw on Barbara’s phone,” Janine whispered to you as she dragged you by the arm to her table. “Melissa sent some spicy pics to Barb by accident. Well, I hope on accident. Oh my god, you don’t think-” Jacob’s snowball of a thought was interrupted by Melissa coming behind you and grabbing your hand. Without a word, she pulled you from their table to hers, and eyed Barbara’s phone. The phone, was sat face up, brightness all the way up, and pictures of you in Melissa’s mirror were on the screen. Your eyes went wide as you quickly turned it off and scooted closer to Melissa.

“What the hell? First you mark me like a territorial dog, and now this? What? What is happening? Did she see?” It was your turn to snowball, cheeks heating up at the thought of your coworkers seeing that photo.

“THAT’S YOU?” Jacob yelled, turning the screen to you. You were so focused on figuring out what happened, you didn’t notice Jacob walk up behind the two of you and grab the phone again. Before you could answer, Barbara came back into the room, snatching her phone out of Jacob’s hand. As she took a glance at her screen, you and Melissa covered your faces out of embarrassment. The redhead finally said something as she watched her friend unlock her phone. “Barb, I am so sorry. I meant to send you the pictures from the flea market but I wasn’t paying attention and-”

“Oh sweet Jesus Melissa Schemmenti! Why do you even have those? Who-” Barbara stopped herself as her eyes landed on you. “You have got to be kidding me,” was all she said as she shook her head in disbelief. She handed her phone to the two of you and muttered ‘take care of it’ as she walked to the coffee maker.

You let Melissa do it, and stood up to leave. Of course, your plans were derailed. “So, details!” Janine said as her and Jacob surrounded you. “Details? What details?” You heard the principal’s voice as you spun around to greet her. “Melissa and this one have been hooking up,” Jacob answered, not giving you the slightest chance to explain yourself. You sighed in defeat, and looked at Melissa who was mouthing ‘sorry.’

“Duh. What else is new? Any other details?” Ava said as she quickly became uninterested in the conversation. “Hold on, what do you mean?” Melissa finally joined in. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re not nice to anyone but her, and you,” Ava turned to face you again. “You look at her like she made the world with her own two hands. It’s ridiculous. Lemme see those photos though,” She reached her hand out, but thankfully Melissa pulled back just in time. “Absolutely not.” She barked.

“You know I never said it was me,” you tried to cover this all up. “Oh really? So these hickies you got all over you are just a coincidence?” Ava gestured to your neck as she finished unrolling your turtleneck. “How did you- You know what,” You stuttered through responses as you pulled your sweater back up and walked back to Melissa’s table. “Well it is her. So if everyone could stop talking about the photos of my girlfriend and the hickies on my girlfriend, that would be great.” Melissa said, the end of her sentence quieted by the sound of her pulling your chair closer to hers.

“They finally did it!” Ava cheered, just as Gregory was coming in as well. “Did what?” He joined in. As Ava explained everything that just happened, Gregory just shrugged his shoulders and continued walking to the fridge. “I already knew that. Saw them making out in a closet on parent teacher night,” he said, without even looking up. “On school grounds? Y’all nasty,” Ava said, taking that as her cue to leave.

Thankfully, after a few minutes, the teachers of Abbott found something else to occupy themselves, and you and Melissa were back inside your love bubble. “I’m really sorry baby, I promise you that was an accident and I certainly didn’t mean for them to see,” Melissa quietly apologized to you. You took her hand in yours and squeezed it gently. “It’s okay, it was gonna come out one way or another. At least I look good in those,” you laughed. Melissa rolled her eyes, but you knew she was teasing. Your heart softened as she leaned her head on your shoulder. Even though this wasn’t how the two of you planned to come out, you were happy to be able to have moments like this with her, without having to worry.

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fics #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #wlw fic #reader fic #melissa hours

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sincere1ystar · 5 months ago

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Almost

you two almost have it all but then life changes its plans (reader sort of takes the role of annie in this)

warnings: typical character death angst

You have always known as the victor who went “mad”. Walking through district 13 you often hears whispers of pity from everyone saying how deranged you seem to be. Well everyone except Finnick.

Finnick who sees you for who you are, not as some person who went mad because of the games. Finnick who made the effort to comfort you through your nightmares even though he had his own. Finnick who whispered sweet nothings into your ears until you fell asleep.

On days where you’re constantly plaqued by nightmares of the games, Finnick never leaves your side. Katniss and the others notices how Finnick is the only one who can snap you out of your terrors. He takes you to the beach hoping that the sound of the waves will calm you down and when it doesn’t he comforts you through his love.

When Finnick goes off on that mission before you guys could start your honeymoon, you feel a sinking feeling in your stomach. You feel like something is wrong.. no you know something is wrong. But this isn’t the first time you are like this so Finnick reassures you the best he can.

Finnick feels strongly. When your heart hurts, his hurts along with her. When uou feels upset about the past, he can’t help but mirror your emotions. And now when you are pleading and begging for him to stay, he can’t help but want to plead along with you.

When you notice Katniss, Peeta, and the others come back from the mission your heart swells when you realize that means your love is back. Finally back and you’ll never have to leave the warm embrace of his arms ever again. Suddenly all the suffering and endless nights of screams and sobs are worth it, that is until you don’t see Finnick in the crowd.

You notices how everyone is looking at you with… pity? sympathy? You don’t care much because you need to find Finnick, it’s as if you’re a fish desperate to be in the water again.

When you don’t find him you can’t help but think the worse. “No no no you’re just overthinking just like how Finnick always says you do”, you think to yourself, “Soon enough you’ll be in his arms again and you both will laugh about how silly you were when he was alive and healthy the whole time.”

Your bubble of delusion is broken by Katniss, whose words are wary and cautious.

“Hey”-,Katniss attempts to start before you interrupts her.

“Katniss!! Thank god now someone can tell me where Finnick is? Where is he? Where’s Finnick? He’s alright isn’t he? Where is he I want to see him. No I need to see him!!”, you cry out frantically before you give Katniss a chance to finish.

Just then a few other circle Katniss as a sign of some sort of support as she starts to say, “Finnick’s not… He’s not.. He didn’t… make it”.

Just then your world goes quiet. You are surrounded by others giving you their condolences trying to comfort you, but it all goes in one ear and out the other.

Sometimes it feels like you can’t breathe. “It’s like the first time Finnick taught me how to swim and I almost drowned”, you think. Other times you hopelessly cry and cry for hours. “It’s like when I wake up sobbing and screaming from my nightsmres and Finnick’s right there to hold me”, you think. And sometimes you’re just plain out angry as you let the rage take over your mind because you can’t help but just be angry. Angry at the fact that you’ve lost him right before you both almost had it all. “It’s like when I get angry about what the games did to all of us and Finnicks there to help me work through it”, you think. No matter what emotion you feel, you always link Finnick to it.

You have always been surrounded by grief, but you never really knew the strange things it makes you do. You don’t throw out the rope Finnick was tying the last time you saw him, you won’t throw out the half full water bottle he last drank from, and you refuses to clean out any of his things.

Grief also brings you jealousy. When you see Katniss and Peeta finally get their happy ending, you can’t help but mourn what you could have had with Finnick. Of course you’re happy for the couple, who wouldn’t be? But sometimes you find yourself drowning in envy when you see the two of them together. You have that same look in your eye, the same look Katniss had at your wedding with Finnick when Peeta was hijacked. Life’s funny like that, you think.

#thg #finnick odair #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x reader angst

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randomwriteronline · 2 years ago

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“Now,” Arezu began whistfully, “Not to pit two exquisite Ladies against each other, but - if they had to fight, who do you think would win between Lady Lilligant and Lady Sneasler?”

“Sneasler,” Ingo replied instantly.

There was a hot second of stunned silence.

“No hesitation, huh,” Mai noted.

“I am basing myself purely on typing,” the man began explaining as he briefly stopped carving the second wooden spoon he would give as a traditional wedding gift to Palina and Iscan: “If both had been pure Fighting it would have been a perfectly fair fight, but Lilligant has the disadvantage of being part Grass, which Poison happens to be supereffective against.”

“That’s why your Tangela hates me,” Melli commented.

“She does not,” Ingo replied.

“Why does she suffocate me then?”

“I have told you already, her hugs are not an attempt at your life, she is simply made out of a mass of vines which can sometimes result in hazardous situations despite her best intentions.”

“Is there someone Lady Lilligant could take on?” Arezu distracted them.

Ingo turned to her without missing a beat: “Avalugg, Basculegion, and possibly Kleavor, though it would be a very tight match.”

“No she could not take on Lord Avalugg!” Gaeric blurted out.

“He is doubly weak to Fighting and his Rock type would not do him many favors against Grass,” the other man replied, shattering his hopes in one fell swoop.

“But he’s-!” the warden fumbled on his words for a moment, waving his arms vehemently to find a comprehensible enough way to explain himself before having to resort to just: “Big!”

“Fair argument!” Ingo admitted. “But typing wise, he’d be done for. It’s a very unfortunate pair, mostly on account of neither type covering the other’s weaknesses. He would similarly lose against Sneasler, Arcanine, Basculegion, Electrode, Kleavor, and... No, that should be it, I believe. Ursaluna would would put up a valuable effort, but wouldn't survive the Ice. My condolences, Miss Calaba.”

The woman didn’t even move from where she napped, just gave him an ok.

Melli laughed at the disheartened Gaeric.

Mai smacked him to get him to stop.

“He’d be good against Braviary,” Sabi predicted.

That got her a gentle pat on her head, away from the braids she was getting done: “Indeed,” Ingo nodded, “Flying is weak to both Ice and Rock. He’d also fare pretty badly against Kleavor - Bugs are awful for Psychic types.”

“But he’d be good against Sneasler?”

“Oh, he’d decimate her. Both of his types are supereffective against her. Wyrdeer too, she’d have no chance against him. For more information on how weak Poison is to Psychic please refer to Melli and his many defeats at the spoons of Alakazam.” and he ducked to evade a halfhearted slap. “Also Ursaluna! Ground is another powerful weakness of the vitriolic type. Congratulations, Miss Calaba.”

She gave him a thumbs up and continued not caring.

Palina hummed, struggling for a moment with Sabi’s green hair as she tried to untangle a knot: “How’d my young Lord do?” she asked with genuine curiousity: “He hasn’t been mentioned much, has he?”

“Fire type seldom has trouble in matchups, so he’d be fairly fortunate in a fight against most of his fellow Nobles...” the expert mumbled: “Lilligant, Kleavor, Avalugg as I’ve mentioned, Electrode - Ursaluna would asphalt him, though. Together with Basculegion they are his worst enemies. In a fight, of course, I’m well aware they’re on excellent terms.”

Iscan waved a little to reassure him: “The Lord isn’t a big fighter anyways, he probably wouldn’t do too well.”

“Oh, he’d be quite good actually! Plenty of the Nobles would be in trouble against his Water and Ghost combination, he’s rather fiersome! Electrode is the only one to be a total threat to him - those two are probably the ones to look out for the most. Terrific typings, the both of them.”

His sleeve was tugged to take him out of his musings: Lian twisted his mouth at him to properly figure out how to express his question, looking particularly pissed as he side-eyed what Ingo refused to look at but knew was probably a very smug Diamond warden with a burning desire to bury the guy alive, which would have severely worsened not just inter-clan relationships but also the fairly relaxed gathering they were having.

“So - this is all just, theories, right,” the kid began.

“Yes, based on types.”

Lian hummed deeply, pressing his mouth flat, and a fairly well-known feeling he could only denominate as Oh No took over Ingo as he dreaded the question.

“So you could tell who would win between Almighty Palkia and Dialga?”

Now that was something not to be touched with a 25 and a half foot pole, as evidenced by the other Pearl wardens shooting a glare at Lian and most of their Diamond counterparts paling notably.

Ingo, bless his heart, completely lost the religious implications somewhere in the cogs of his battle-analitycal machine churning in his brain.

“That would require an actual battle to be determined, actually!” he answered without missing a beat: “Both of them are Dragon types, meaning they have at the same time a massive advantage and disadvantage on one another, so effectively the chance at one prevailing over the other just based on that is rendered null, and since their secondary typings of Steel and Water are completely neutral to one another, a fight between the two of them would end up being rather balanced. It would also probably be an incredible spectacle with a very high chance of completely tearing reality as we know it apart according to professor Laventon’s studies, so it would be best for them and the rest of the world to remain on good terms and never have the chance to settle the score between them if they had any to settle.”

The young warden mumbled an agreement.

Not the way anybody expected a bomb like that to be defused.

But oh thank fuck it worked!

“What about the third one?” Iscan asked meekly. “The worm?”

Ingo buffered for a second: “Dragon-Ghost,” he recalled. “Same exact situation as the other two. No certain prevailing, and we should hope not to find out.”

“Ghost is good against Ghost, right?” Palina intervened.

The man nodded. A funny thought striked him: “With enough determination, it could be taken down by Basculegion. And by Avalugg as well.”

Gaeric cheered at his Lord’s good honor being restored.

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barefoothighlander · 2 years ago

Note

hiiii i love your work so much and i was wondering if you could please do something angsty where the reader is dating ghost and on the team and something goes wrong? like to the point where they are MIA and presumed dead for months? but they are found and ghost is so relieved and can’t believe that they’re alive (can be female reader or gender neutral i don’t mind 💛)

been in my feels recently so here’s some ghost angst

warnings: violence, grief, mentions of death, small mention of scars & blood, mentions of ptsd, smoking, gn pronouns (reader call sign is fox)

“Where are they?” Ghost bursts into Prices office

“Soap got back 10 minutes ago”

“And what about Fox, are they back?”

“Not yet”

“Not yet? Did they call in?”

“Comms fell through half an hour ago”

“So they’re out there blind?”

Price huffs a breath, nodding to Ghost, his face drops, you had been on a recon with Soap and it was going well until the two of you got ambushed and had to call for evac, Soap made it to the rendezvous point where the heli was waiting but you weren’t there, the enemies swarmed the checkpoint, you made the call for them to leave you.

Ghost loomed around base for hours, waiting, changing the channel on his comms every minute to see if you were talking, but it was radio silent.

“Let me go find them”

“Absolutely not Simon, there’s hostile everywhere I’m not sending you out to get killed”

“With all due respect Captain, it’s not your call”

“If you leave this base I will have you sent home son, the best we can do is wait”

Ghost stands still, his eyes staring down Price silently begging him to let him leave, but Price stays stern. He walks to the deck, standing outside the base his his back against the wall, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and lighting one.

He stands outside for hours, willing you to appear, to be safe, walking towards him with open arms, but his view is clear. No one on deck, no vehicles pulling in, there’s nothing.

Two months pass, two months of silence, Price had called the mission to an end two weeks after you were declared MIA, Ghost went back to an empty home. Everything was too quiet without you there, the bright lights of the house dimmed without your presence, Simon felt everything slipping away again.

He’d never prepared himself for the day he’d lose you, he’d lost everyone, everything, the pain of living without you didn’t even compare to that of losing his family, he felt like someone had reached into his chest and ripped his heart out. He barely slept, staying awake every night praying you’d walk through the door, when he did sleep he dreamt of you, your face resting on the pillow just inches from his, he dreamt of just holding you.

The scent of your soap still lingered on some old clothes, he’d sometimes grab a shirt and just hold it to his skin, imagining it was you there in front of him instead of a piece of cloth.

Within the second month he had cut all contact with the team, ignoring their calls and texts, he didn’t care for their words of encouragement or condolences, none of it made up for the fact that you weren’t there.

He felt guilty, he couldn’t save you, he blamed himself thinking about how he should’ve been there, he shouldn’t protected you just like he’d done in missions before. He blamed Soap for leaving without you, even if it was your call, he would’ve never left you behind no matter the circumstances.

It was all too much, he didn’t have enough time with you, an eternity still would’ve been too short, everything in him ached and longed for you, he just wanted one more moment, one more time he could tell you how much you meant to him, how much he loved you.

He refused to pack your things, not out of denial but because he refused to let you be forgotten, wherever you were, you’d be with him forever. He always made your side of the bed, he kept all your mugs next to his just like you’d done years before, everything in his life still looked as if you were with him.

His hope dwindled with each day, every night you were gone was just a higher chance of you never coming home to him, he checked in with base every morning to see if there was any news, everyday was the same, you hadn’t shown up.

72 days had gone by since you went missing, presumed dead but they hadn’t identified your body, at 4am Simon was standing on the porch smoking a cigarette when the ring of his phone echoed through the house, he assumed it was some call in for an op, begrudgingly dragging himself back inside to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Simon?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m with the Bayfield Emergency Hospital, we have a patient asking for you”

His heart dropped through his chest, he hung up his phone and rushed to his car, he was acting purely on adrenaline, every fibre of his being hoping it was you they found, that he wouldn’t arrive to someone else laying in a cot.

He’s speeding through the dark night, eyes darting around to check for police officers, there was nothing in the world that could stop him from getting to the hospital.

He pulls into the parking lot and rushes through the large glass doors,

“Where are they?”

“Who Sir?”

“The one that asked for Simon, where are they?”

“I need your full name”

“I- I can’t, please just tell me where they are”

“Sir I can’t let you in without the paperwork”

He slams his fists to the desk, “Please”

He sees two security guards from the corner of his, he retracts his palms stepping back, tears pricking his eyes as heat flushes his skin,

“Is he here yet?” A doctor asked, stepping through a sliding door

“Are you fox’s doctor?”

“Who are you”

“I’m Simon, are they in there”

The doctor looks hesitantly towards the nurse, “come with me”

His ears a ringing, the fluorescent lights above his head feel blinding as he makes his way through the series of hallways.

“They’re okay, a little banged up, it’s their mental state we’re worried about”

Simon looks through the small window on the door, you’re laying in the bed, your arms strapped to your sides.

“You can go in”

Simon takes a breath, nodding to the doctor before opening the door, he can see you better now, there’s cuts and bruises scattering your legs, dried blood on your skin all the way up to your neck, your face is flush, stained with tears.

“Fox?”

You turn your attention to him, shaking your head “No, no please, go away”

He moves towards you slowly, like a wounded animal as you thrash against your restraints, tears streaming down your face.

“Fox it’s me”

“Please, just let me go”

His hand ghosts over your arm and you flinch from the contact, Ghost turns to glance at the door before he takes his mask off, turning back to you.

“It’s me love, no one’s gonna hurt you”

“You’re not real”

He thinks for a moment, his fingers moving to undo one of your restraints as he kneels by your side, he lifts your hand to touch his face, your fingers trace over his scars.

“It’s me”

You let out a sob, Simon reaches to undo your other arm and pulls you into him, muffling your cries with his chest as he holds you.

“It’s okay, you’re home” He’s saying it to the both of you, your fingers clinging to his jacket.

He sits with you as you cry, his hands gently stroking your hair,

"I can't believe you're home" He whispers into your hair, his eyes watering as a small sniffle leaves his nose.

His hand holds yours close as you wait for the doctors to clear you, they tend to a few superficial cuts before letting you leave. Simon helps you slowly walk to the car, the ride back is silent, his eyes glancing over to check on you every so often before he pulls into the driveway.

You sit, staring at the house, he opens your door standing next to you, his arm extending to help you out before you make your way inside. It's all so familiar but different at the same time, everything is the same, the pictures on the shelves haven't moved, the flowers that sat in the vase now dried up and wilted, he kept everything the same.

"Let's go to bed" He says, his hands lightly cupping your jaw as he leans down to plant a gentle kiss to your forehead. You follow quietly behind him as he settles into bed, the mattress is soft under your body, a stark contrast to the environment you've been in for the past few months.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into him as his chin settles on top of your head, you're breathing in his scent, the warmth of his skin enveloping you just like you wished it had for so many nights. Simon's heart aches with every sniffle you let escape, all he can do is hold you.

"I love you so much Simon"

He takes a deep breath, hip lips pressed to the crown of your head, "Don't ever leave me fox".

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