Tumgik
#WHERE DID THAT COME FROM it’s haunted me forever
acourtofthought · 7 hours
Note
Whenever I see an Elriel say: SJM told us the mating bond could be rejected for a reason! Elain is going to reject Lucien to be happy with Azriel!
The only thing I can think is: Yes, she did tell us that, but she also told us the consequences of that, and that's the part Elriels always seem to forget or ignore.
Even if Elain does reject the bond, she will never be able to be fully happy with Azriel because she will always feel the remnants of the bond lingering deep inside her chest. Even if she loves Azriel and wants to give him her heart, mind, body, and soul, a piece of her will always be tied to Lucien. There's no getting away from that. It's a simple fact, and as interesting as a rejected bond could be, it doesn't seem fair or right to have Elain end up with Azriel when they will both be eternally haunted by the shadow of Lucien.
And it doesn't seem fair or right for Lucien to suffer a rejected bond, even if somehow the Vassien shippers are right and he ends up in love with Vassa, he too will forever feel the lingering bond and then what? Vassa is human and will die much sooner than Lucien. So I guess they want him to be "happy" only for a few decades, then just go on living the rest of his life alone, haunted by the loss of Jesminda, Elain, and Vassa.
You're so right! If you ask me for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and I take away the peanut butter and jelly, I'm just feeding you bread. Sarah has given us a ton of information regarding the bond yet E/riels cling to the random snippets of information that suit their narrative while acting like the rest doesn't matter.
"You said your mother and father were wrong for each other." "What if - that is what she needs?" They love that line and it's used exhaustively in arguments. But they don't bother to think on why Rhys's parents were a poor matched. Bonds do not make poor matches. Personalities make poor matches. Rhys's father was vicious and cold, his mother was soft and fiery. We KNOW Lucien is not vicious or cold. Az is the one with a temper, an icy rage, a hatred of many people, a torturer. Rhys's mother managed to have two children with her husband and we're not given hints that she was forced against her will, it says she eventually grew to resent him. Why don't they focus on that part? That their downfall came about from their personalities? And with that awareness, how they can they claim the same won't happen to Elain and Az? She might be fine with him for a bit but what if she eventually grew to resent him too? You don't need a mating bond for that to happen, it happens all the time in the real world without bonds. They focus on how Sarah mentioned she has turned the idea of bonds over in her head, is there choice? Once again, proof for E/riels that Elain's choice has been taken away and she's decide to be with Az instead! But they ignore how she goes on to say "or is it both?". For every character so far, it's been both and she even tells us she's not saying whether she'll explore a rejected bond or not which is not a confirmation that it's what we're going to see for Elain. As always, they ignore how Elain and Lucien will always feel a tug to one another even if they reject the bond. They pretend that one doesn't exist but what that means is that no matter how long Elain and Az are together, no matter how happy they might seem, they are BOTH going to know that Fate chose Lucien for her and she'll have a connection to him that she'll never have with Az. That sounds depressing to me and will prevent many readers from ever feeling confident that it's not going to become an issue for them at some point. It raises too many questions, how often will Az be jealous because of it? How many fights will they have where Elain needs to reassure him that she's not thinking of Lucien? That she didn't sense him through the bond? What will E/riel do if Az comes across his own mate some day?
22 notes · View notes
chaoticbardlady99 · 2 days
Text
Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me (Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader) MDNI 18+
Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb
Synposis: Astarion is struggling to adjust to not having you around for a little bit, but he amends this quickly. Astarion takes a moment to explore his own wants and needs while you are asleep.
CW: Mentions of torture, gore, m! Masturbation, Astarion being a lovesick mess I just had this, “oh Astarion and Tav were never together so he has no baseline for sexual touch.” And my brain went, “HE DOESN’T HAVE A BASELINE FOR SEXUAL TOUCH” and well- here we are. I hope you enjoy! I have put markers for when smut starts and stops for anyone who isn’t into it :)
Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!
Chapter 5: Chapter 7: AO3
Tumblr media
Astarion sits and stares at your broken, crumpled form. He had closed your eyes already and he had dug a hole to bury the cat that so graciously let you inhabit it for so long. 
  He recognizes the country bumpkin arrow as one of Leon’s. How could this happen? Astarion had searched the area high and low for signs of the Bastard and didn’t find a thing- where the fuck did he come from!?
 Astarion lets himself cry as he buries the cat. 
  He can’t feel your presence around him and that terrifies Astarion to no end. He can’t lose you- you are both supposed to be ‘stuck’ with each other forever. 
  Astarion has hopes, dreams, and stupid fantasies about what kind of life you could live together once they were able to resolve your incorporeal person problems. He really just knows that, as long as he’s around you, life will be fun. Hard sometimes, but nothing that couldn’t be talked about or handled. 
 You have given him a rather large lesson in communication and the importance of it- after about six months, you had both celebrated Astarion directly telling you that something you said bothered him instead of lashing out. 
  It had been something stupid- he can’t even remember what it was. He was jealous of some man that you said was very attractive as the two of you peered over the railing of your inn in a small town around Amn. 
 That all feels so trivial now. You could be with anyone if it meant Astarion could have you back right now. He may kill the person and cry, but that’s beside the point. <
  The sun is suddenly embracing him and Astarion feels his body become reinvigorated. 
 You never gave up on him or finding a cure so that he could walk in the sun. You also expressed having hopes and dreams amongst other what-nots. You wouldn’t give up this easily on him and he sure as hell won’t give up on you. 
  You have to be out there somewhere. If you aren’t around him that you had to be teleported somewhere else and if that means storming the Heavens- so be it.
  Astarion immediately begins flipping through Volo’s book- rubbing the stupid pink tulle tutu material between his fingers. 
 It’s a stupid thing to keep- he admits it to himself all the time- but it was such a hilarious sight to see and you had said you hope one day he sees how much you mean to him. Astarion will mess with the crappy material whenever he needs the reminder that he has worth and you are busy doing something or sleeping. It’s helped him a significant amount during the night time- the happy memory soothing his soul. 
  And he desperately needs that reassurance and soothing right now.
 Thankfully, Volo’s book wasn’t totally filled with bullshit- the back detailing a City that is not that far from his current location.
  It’s about two and a half days away. That’s entirely doable and you are more than likely perfectly safe, exploring the city and, with any luck, you are hoping he’s trying to get back to you. 
   He can’t get himself to stop- not even for a moment. He finds himself absentmindedly humming various violin pieces you have played for him since you learned you could be an incorporeal person. 
  He feels border line delirious and he’s pretty fucking hungry if he’s being honest with himself- the creatures he’s finding as he goes aren’t filling enough, but he doesn’t have time to properly hunt. 
   You would be worried and upset with him for not taking care of himself, but he won’t feel okay again until you are back in his sight and within arms length again. 
  The trek is horribly boring- he has become so accustomed to even your little snores during travel that the silence is uncomfortable and wrong. Astarion can’t even begin to imagine how his heart would feel if he tried to fall asleep and stay asleep without you near. 
  The hour he tried to trance out of sheer exhaustion had been full of every nightmare imaginable, but it was a dream of Leon killing you- taking away the only person in the whole world that Astarion would gladly lay his life on the line for. 
  He should have killed Leon the moment he suggested you become a sacrifice for him to get Victoria back. Astarion would sooner go back in time sacrifice him and the other spawn than hand you over if that’s what it took to keep you safe.
 At least in that reality, you could both be together and he would never have to worry about losing you because he wouldn’t have to worry about fucking Leon. 
  He just knows Leon is involved- he can feel the irritation in his bones grow with each minute he walks. 
  Astarion races through the forest- being mindful enough to not go barreling through some poor soul just minding it’s own business. 
 For once, he isn’t looking for a fight. He just wants to get to you and leave- get far away from this Gods awful place and begin your lives together somewhere far, far away.
  The second day feels even worse than the first- twenty four hours was far too long and he was growing more worried by the second stint of his journey.
What if Leon finds you before Astarion does?
 Astarion is worried that Leon will convince you to sacrifice yourself for his daughter if he gets to you first- something he knows you would do without a second thought. 
  Astarion finds himself begging the universe that, for once, he is good enough for someone to stay for him- wait for him. 
 Worth someone being a little bit selfish for once.
 What if he isn’t? What kind of life could a transient vampire spawn offer you? Would you willingly remain a ghost if you had the choice or would you pass on?
 He attempts to trance again when his thoughts become overwhelming. He continues, however, to refuse sleeping for very long or take the time to properly hunt. 
 He knows what his needs are and he will take the time later. However, time isn’t a luxury he thinks he can afford right now.
 Astarion needs you- he’s doing this for himself more than anything.
 His second hour long trance is much better. He dreams of you in his arms, held tightly to his chest- your hair fanning out on a plush pillow while he leaves gentle kisses on your face and you giggle happily. You are here again and everything is okay. 
  Astarion wakes up crying when he realizes it’s only a trance- a trick of the mind. His lips yearn to know how your skin feels underneath them.
 Astarion needs you back by his side yesterday. One day was unacceptable as is, but two? His world feels tilted. 
   He feels like he can breathe again when he spies the massive Watch Tower in the distance- the black, oddly shaped tower looms over the other buildings and it’s presence demands to be seen. 
  His feet lead him through the gates of the City of Manifest and he makes a B-line to the Hall of Farewells. There are people everywhere enjoying their loved ones, but no sign of you yet. 
  Astarion goes to the front of the line- ready to knock whoever over so that he can talk to the teller. Your life very well could be in danger- Astarion hasn’t seen any signs of Leon in the Underdark, but you can never be too careful and that arrow was definitely one of his shitty homemade ones.
 “Hey! You can’t just cu-“
 Astarion gives the man a menacing, unblinking smile. The man gulps nervously.
 “You were saying?”
 “Ha, uh I was just saying, go right on ahead! You can cut me anywhere, anytime.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, my Boy,” Astarion says with a sneer, “otherwise you may not live to see the light of day.”
 A dawning realization of horror crosses the man’s face.
“That’s not what I-“
 “NEXT!”
  Astarion waves, “that’s my cue- I will find your delicious self later.” 
 He snickers to himself after he turns around- the man was positively green-, but when he goes to look down next to him to be chastised by you as you begrudgingly laugh- he’s reminded once again of his current twisted reality. 
  It’s only been 56 hours and he misses you so much- there is a massive hole in his chest with every step he takes and he is praying to every God that you are here. 
 “Hello! Welcome to the Hall of Farewells,” an elderly woman stands behind the counter, “who are you looking for today, young man?” 
  If you were here? You would have busted up laughing. 
“Young man, my ass!” 
  He can’t help, but smile slightly to himself as a tear begins to fall from his eye. 
“I’m looking for Althaeastra Rothwell? She goes by Birdie,” he gestures to show your height, “about this tall, beautiful, kind, hilarious, plays the violin really well.” 
 “Well- that is more than enough information for me to help you!” The elderly woman states while beaming, “she must be a very special woman and how lucky of her to have such a wonderful partner.”
 “I’m the lucky one, actually,” the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. 
  The woman smiles even brighter and Astarion has to try very hard to keep himself from blushing like a smitten school boy.
 Good Gods, he thinks, stop being a grieving, emotional mess and focus. You can be weird and dissect your feelings later once you find Birdie.
  The woman claps her hand and performs some kind of magic on a book that flips pages with the intensity of a storm. Names are jumping from the pages- sorting through nicknames, letters, dates of death, etc. until a bright DING alerts the elderly woman that the spell is complete.
 “Ah yes! Miss Rothwell! She hasn’t been here too long- only a couple days,” the woman muses, “hmm well, it looks like your brother already went off to find her. My guess is that you will find her with him.” 
 Astarion feels his entire body become significantly colder than it already is. 
 No- Leon couldn’t have bested him this time. How did Leon get here ahead of him? He did so many perimeter checks before entering the Catacombs and Leon was nowhere to be found. There should be absolutely no reason for him to be here- unless he had planned to kill you so you are a ghost again? That would make sense and it would force you two apart. 
 “Which brother?”
  The woman cocks her head at him and then a realization seems to be forming in her mind.
 You weren’t supposed to be going anywhere with Leon and it’s likely this woman just directed you to your actual death. 
 “His name is… Leon,” she reads the name uneasily, “she wrote only your name in the registry- specifically put ‘WAITING FOR ASTARION’. Brayden tried to tell her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted. Your brother came in shortly after and checked the registry.”
 Astarion damn near loses it- screaming profanities inside his head and desperately trying to keep from exploding all together. He can’t protect you from prison so he needs to play nice. 
 Afterwards? Well, let’s just say Astarion may be creating a list of people he wants to Falcon punch in the throat after you are safe and with him again. You most likely won’t approve, but he told you not to go wandering off with strangers! You do not have the combat experience or street smarts to be able to protect yourself. 
  Astarion goes to ask another question when a man comes racing in with a very mutilated, but living ghost. An insignia with a boot print and compass rose is on the front. The man’s black, curly locks are mangled and blue stained.
  The older man is hysterical- begging someone to save his son as pieces of him begin to fall away and disappear. Astarion feels a wave of panic go through his body. 
 “Brayden,” the elderly woman gasps, “Gods help us!” 
  A group of clerics descends on the men and tries to help the man who was evidently giving you a tour. Another group goes racing out the door in the direction the body was found. Astarion makes note of this “Tombyard District” and begins to leave. 
  His body, however, freezes as he approaches the young Ghost laying out on the floor- wheezing painfully and his eyes meet Astarion’s a look of recognition. You must have talked about Astarion a lot.
 Brayden’s eyes seem to scream back at Astarion, “she’s in danger! You need to save her!” 
 Astarion would know that magic and knife work anywhere- Leon got to you and this poor man probably tried to defend you. It disgusts Astarion that he is grateful for a perfect stranger, but anyone who has attempted to keep you safe is okay in his books. 
  He will not lose you to this place and he will make sure Brayden’s suffering was not in vain or yours for that matter. 
  Astarion leaves the Hall of Farewells- realizing that the more he sits there and listens to that man wail for his adult son to stay with him, the more and more hopeless and scared Astarion becomes. 
  Leon was Cazador’s best hunter, but it was because he was an aggressive meathead about the whole thing. It irritated the piss out of everyone. He wasn’t subtle and was more than happy to swoop in and steal your mark if it meant he could get back to the Palace faster. 
  It doesn’t take very long for Astarion to track Leon, but he’s alarmed when the faint scent of his other siblings begins to tickle his nose. The guard at the entrance of the Tombyard warned him against going in this late, but Astarion has a feeling he doesn’t have much time. 
 He stole a Ring of Manifesting on the way there so that after he finds you, you can both run straight to Waterdeep. Astarion had used one of his sending spells detailing what is going on to Tav and Gale just in case you both go MIA, but they are expecting both of you to be there. Admittedly, Astarion is quite proud of himself- you are always on him for not having a plan and this time he actually has a plan!
  The smell of rotting flesh and the sound of people crying over their loved ones rings through his ears. There are multiple funerals occurring at once- mostly Drow and a few Humans. 
 The area is not cozy nor is it an aesthetically pleasing place to rest, the buildings look like warehouses for the bored and lonely and the statues along the streets are even graveyard-esque. It makes him uncomfortable- he doesn’t necessarily care for graveyards anymore. Not that he ever did, really.
 There are alleyways here and there, but only one has Leon’s scent and the other scent is Lavender and something else he can’t pick up on. It has to be you which makes Astarion feel even more sick.
 What did he tell you about following random strangers places!? One time you followed a man with white hair because you thought it was Astarion and you had been missing for an hour and a half. 
 Now you have been missing for probably two Gods damn days!
 The scent leads him to an alleyway and the stench of rot becomes worse- Astarion can practically feel the pull of the weave in the air and the dark art of Necromancy.
 Wonderful, just wonderful. 
  Astarion creeps along the wall- grateful that he listened to your suggestion about wearing solely black armor. It made sneaking around much easier and if he’s about to face a necromancer without a Cleric around then he’s going to need every advantage he can get. 
  A few new scents are in the air- much cleaner than the heavy must that threatens to suffocate him. 
Think before you act, Astarion reminds himself, being irrational is not going to bring Birdie back to you any faster. 
  As he comes around a corner as slowly as he possibly can, he pulls his daggers out with the pointed ends against someone’s throat- he is met with a set of piercing blue eyes and earthy brown eyes. Both individuals appear to be clerics and they both gesture for Astarion to be quiet- that they are not a threat. Two other people become more visible to him. 
 Astarion recognizes the individual symbols on their chest as Uhanam- a lawful neutral God that is about law and intelligence-, Durann- a Lawful Good God that is about healing and listening to laws, and Aluvan- protector of Ghosts. He doesn’t recognize the other God, but she has the same symbol as the poor Cleric who had been severely injured trying to protect you.  
  A door appears further down an alley and a man that smells of Undeath with a beating heart comes walking down the alley. Astarion recognizes him as a Shadar Kai almost instantly. 
  Much to his irritation, the individuals let him pass by them, but he watches one use sleight of hand to maneuver the keys off his belt. The Shadar Kai doesn’t even so much as flinch. It’s rather impressive and Astarion enjoys the shit eating grin the Wood Elf flashes at their fellow clerics. 
  You would really like these people. Astarion will like them as long as none of them attempt to take you away from him. 
 “Alright,” one of the clerics, a blonde halfling woman, releases a sigh of relief before continuing her whispering, “hello- are you friend or foe?”
  “Depends,” he whispers back, “are you going to kill everyone-including the people they have held captive- or are you on a rescue mission.”
 “Rescue and revenge mission- actually,” the half- elf woman with the same insignia as Brayden says, “they tried to kill my fellow Cleric, Brayden- my husband in fact, and they kidnapped the person he was showing around. We just hope she’s still alive- this Lich doesn’t hang onto people very long.”
  Of course it’s a fucking Lich. 
 “For all of your sake,” Astarion snarls, “you better hope she is alive.” 
“Your loved one, I take it?” the halfing says.
 Astarion nods- they need to know there is someone here for you and if they so much as look at you funny, he will kill them with absolutely no remorse to show for it. 
 “That settles it then,” the Wood Elf says, “let’s go save some folks and kick some ass!” 
 It was like being around Karlach- the cleric has a goofy grin and an even goofier vibe.
  Astarion follows them- trailing behind so that he can take more time to search and see you before it becomes a bloodbath. 
 You just have to find her and get out of here, Astarion repeats like a mantra in his head, she is alive, she is safe-ish, she is okay. Everything is going to be fine because it has to be fine.
  The place is filled to the brim with various undead creatures haunting it’s halls. Some creatures he has never even seen before and others look like they are stitched together with mismatched parts. 
  Astarion tries to swallow his panic- no sign of you yet so you may just be caged some-
 “NO PLEASE!” your voice screams through the air and the sound of you struggling against someone rings alongside your voice, “PLEASE! I- DON’T WANT TO BECOME THAT- PLEASE!!!!!!” 
   You cry out in pain and Astarion begins barrelling past the Clerics who are trying to stop him, but they can figure it out. He needs to get to you. 
 Astarion pushes past every individual who comes by him- some try to attack him and he is quick to rebuke them or kill them with one blow. Your screams are becoming more and more panicked- you sound like you are fighting for your life and Astarion wishes you were aware that he is right here- nothing will happen to you.
 He just needs to find you and then you never have to come to this horrible place ever again.
“ASTARION!” your cries are coming from down the hall, “ASTARION, HELP! PLEASE!” 
   Your voice has begun to sound gargled, but he knows he’s on the right floor- the scent of Lemongrass hanging in the air like a blessing. 
  When he finally finds the room you are in, he watches as some kind of magic tries to contort you into something else entirely. You are fighting to prevent it- tears streaming down either side of your face.
“Astarion- please hurry,” your anger and your voice being reduced to a tearful whisper, “I’m not ready to die.” 
  And he’s not ready for you to. In fact, Astarion feels positively homicidal. 
  Within a millisecond, Astarion is shoving his daggers between the Lich’s ribs and it cries out in surprise- Astarion uses an arrow of Thunder and sends the Lich crashing into the wall- one of it’s arms dislocating in the process. 
 The Shadar Kai descend on him and you struggle against your restraints- trying to get away from the ones that are trying to hold you back down and keep him from getting to you. They are unlatching your restraints and dragging you towards another hall. The Lich waiting like a coward behind it’s soldiers. 
 “ASTARION!” you scream, “BEHIND YOU!”
   He sends another Shadar Kai to the Shadowfell thanks to your warning, only to have one of the Shadar Kai holding you cut your throat, an angry growl leaving Astarion,and he cuts through every creature his blade can get it’s sharp edge on. 
   A crash from behind him and the horrific creature that comes racing into the room distracts Astarion and he’s grateful that the Clerics had caught up with him because he wouldn’t have been able to save himself from the oncoming Ghoul running towards him otherwise.
  He makes eye contact with Dalyria, but it’s not her eyes. The sight of his siblings and their fate makes Astarion feel ill- the Lich gestures and suddenly they are collapsing to the ground in a ball of red magic. The blood curdling scream of anger that leaves Astarion’s mouth scares him.
  The Lich looks like he’s about to shit himself.
 Not only had this horrible, unnatural creature taken you and harmed you significantly- it had destroyed his family. The only one he knows and remembers. The only people in the whole world who know what it means to suffer just as well as he does.
  The creature gets back up and the Lich doesn’t have time to dodge before one of it’s unnaturally strong hands grabs it’s face and sends it’s flying away from the hall- it’s skull begins to crack the moment he makes impact with the wall.
  The Lich uses shadow step to retreat down one of the hallways as his siblings run at him again- looking rather pleased that they chased it off.
  He feels angry- it won’t be safe for you or his siblings here or anywhere with that Lich fucking off. Astarion wants to go after it- desperately and end this once and for all, but he knows he can’t. 
  Instead, he returns his attention back to the battle and getting to you as you continue to struggle against your captors. He’s over there in seconds- uses Dimension Door to put you in a safe corner and then using Misty Step to get back into battle. The creature that is his siblings stand protectively in front of you- waiting to destroy anyone who dare harm you. Their eyes meet his and they nod- we’ve got her. 
  He tries not to cry from sentiment alone- they care about him enough to keep you safe so he can focus on killing the other enemies in the room and Astarion never thought he would see the day where that would ever happen. It’s a shame it’s probably too late now to try to start over with each other again. 
  The remainder of the creatures are destroyed and Astarion personally mutilates the individual who decided cutting your throat was a fantastic idea. 
  Once it all calms down and everyone is dead- the Clerics lock the hallway door where the Lich had run away and they gesture for the mix and match of his siblings to follow as they exit the building. 
  The Aluvan Priestess, the Halfing, is the one to assure them that they would reverse their condition, they’ve apparently done it before and he hears your choked sigh of relief. He’s surprised to see the monstrous versions of his siblings look at you with hopeful eyes and you back at them. 
 It must have been a horrible 56 hours. 
 Brayden’s cleric in arms and wife comes over and heals your throat, your wrists, and offers you a clean outfit. You are shaking as you take the clothes and you look at the woman with your lower lip trembling.
“Is Brayden okay? He was trying to keep me safe.”
 The woman nods and smiles, “he’s in rough shape, but nothing he won’t be able to come back from- thank Wyst.”
 That seems to make you cry harder and Astarion is quick to scoop you up into his arms now that the initial shock of everything he has just seen has worn off. You cling to his neck, your arms wrapped around him tightly, and he just rubs soft circles into your back.
 “It’s safe now, Birdie,” he whispers, “I will never ever let anyone harm you again.” 
             *****************************
   It’s later in the evening when you seem to finally be more yourself again, but Astarion can tell that something horrible happened to you at the hand of the Lich. He is refraining from asking- not wanting to upset you or push you too hard. 
  You are drinking the honey mead in your hand heavily- eating bread and cheese along side it. Ghosts can’t get hung over so you took it as an opportunity to try to drown out the events of the last couple days. 
  It’s when you look at him with tearful eyes that he knows you are truly, honest to Gods suffering. 
“Darling?” He gently takes your hand in his, “what is it?” 
 You look up at the ceiling with a trembling lip before looking him in the eyes again.
 “He cut me open,” you choke, “he- he took out my organs and put them in other bodies before putting them back in mine.
“Then he was going t- to,” you shake as you try to get through your next sentence, “he was going to turn me into a Necroplasm. A horrible creature only made of bone and ectoplasm. Lifeless; thoughtless.”
  Your face is back in your hands and Astarion is feeling an incredibly confusing amount of emotions right now.
 He wants to hunt down that lich and destroy the bastard limb by limb, over and over again until he finally shows the last bit of mercy he could- breaking the phylactery. 
 But he also wants to get out of the City of Manifest entirely. His siblings are all separated again- temporarily Ghosts, but incredibly happy to not be melded together while the Clerics search for the remainder of their bodies to reconstruct. He has no idea how it works, but apparently the Gods over manifest are much kinder than the ones who dominate the rest of Faerun.
  Leon is the only one who hasn’t come back, but he’s dead to Astarion either way. He was quite impressed with the amount of damage you had been able to inflict. Once he teaches you how to use a dagger, you could truly be unstoppable.
 However, that’s for a later date when you become settled.
 Gale sent him two tickets to teleport to Waterdeep and you seemed to be relieved that you wouldn’t be staying here- you want to come back, but after you feel more confident in your ability to protect yourself.
  Tav and Gale are getting married in a few weeks- Waterdeep will be good for both of you. It will be familiar and comfortable.
 You can stay together in the room you usually occupy, he will keep watch if that’s what you need to sleep for a while. 
 Anything to make you feel safe again. 
 “I feel so violated,” you sniff and laugh sadly to yourself, “I have the worst luck. The first touch I receive in three and a half centuries and it’s while I’m being cut open and fit to others like a puzzle piece- like a thing.
“I could feel it,” you wipe your eyes, “every horrible thing those people felt before they died. I felt their love and misery for the people they were never going to see again-“ 
  This was not how Astarion wanted this reunion to go- Leon is dead, but it would never feel like enough. 
 Leon took honest, innocent moments you deserved to have and tainted them- all for something that was never going to happen anyway.
 A Lich is a Lich and he’s going to hunt the bastard down- you were just a victim of opportunity in his eyes. 
 “I wish I had gotten there faster,” Astarion whispers, “this isn’t how I imagined this going.” 
 “What do you mean?” You ask, wiping your eyes.
 Does he tell you that he envisioned at least kissing you? If you wanted? Now it feels like it would be pressuring you.
“It’s not imp-“
“No- enough about me,” you say, “I want to know what you’ve been doing and how life in the sun has been!” 
 Astarion smiles softly, “there hasn’t been a life in the sun without you. I barely noticed- I was focused on getting here to you.” 
  “Wait, really?” he nods in affirmation, you smile widely at that, “I’m glad I wasn’t the only one who missed hanging around.” 
  You look so happy looking at him- you are wearing his shirt since your own clothes had been practically destroyed and the clothing that was lended to you was uncomfortable. 
 “I’m going to wash my face and all the ick from these last couple days off real quick- I’ll be back.”
  He couldn’t help but miss you- even a room away when you go to wash off.  Astarion had braided your hair back afterwards. 
  Every part of you is beautiful and lovely- he was so scared he lost you without ever getting to see what would happen between the two of you. He hates how gushy and mushy he’s become over the last two days- at this rate, he’s just going to embarrass himself when you ultimately don’t return his feelings.
“Be my date for Tav and Gale’s wedding,” he blurts out of nowhere.
  Nice going panty dropper- you call that romantic?
 “What?”
  You literally said one sentence and blew up the whole thing, Astarion scolds himself.
  Astarion clears his throat, “I couldn’t think of a better plus one nor anyone I would want to suffer through the cheesy affair with.” 
 “Yes!” You exclaim, jumping up, “one hundred thousand times yes! Oh my gosh!!!!!! We will need to go shopping or thieving- who cares- I GET TO GO TO A WEDDING WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON!!!!!” 
 Oh thank Gods.
  Your once melancholy mood has shifted and Astarion feels a warm glow in his chest. He can already think of what cut would fit you best, what colors, how your hair should look, etc. 
  You ask him so many questions- what color does he think would be best? Will you match with him? What color would be best for both of them? And “GODS ABOVE HOW WILL I DO MY HAIR AND MAKE UP!? I’m out of practice!”
 Oh and you made it very clear- absolutely no tulle or crowns. 
 You both somehow decide on lavender and silver. Astarion figures he’ll wear silver with lavender designs and you will do the opposite. 
“What if I don’t remember how to dance!?” You say, mortified, “I’ll embarrass us both!!!”
 “Oh the horror- to be forced to save my darling damsel in distress from tripping over her own heels,” he teases, pushing a stray hair out of your face, “I’m sure I have more than enough dancing experience for both of us.”
 You look at him and bite your lip- a little bit of worry in your eyes.
“What is it, my Sweet?”
  He struggles to stop his smile at the nice blush that courses under your skin at the term of endearment.
“I- I know you hate parties,” you start cautiously, “are you sure you want to dance and everything? We don’t have to if it would make you unhappy. Just being there with you would be more than enough. Unfortunately I can’t offer not going, I think Tara would murder me.”
  Well that is… unexpected. Astarion’s body feels like it’s radiating with happiness and affection- you are quite literally perfect.
 Pull yourself together.
 “I’ll be fine, my Dear,” he says with a slight dismissive wave of his hand, “besides, this is my first party as a free man- who knows? Maybe I’ll become a party fiend.”
 “Ha! I don’t think you like people enough to do that.”
 “But I like you enough to,” he states, “so if you would like to go to them from time to time- I have no qualms.” 
  Gods when did he become such a romantic? 
  You, on the other hand, look like you might explode and he can’t tell why, but he hopes he hasn’t pushed it too far. Astarion is quickly reassured when a coy, mischievous smile passes over your face. 
“I promise I won’t make you go to too many parties,” you tease, “one too many and one might end up being a funeral.”
“Ah see, that’s my kind of party!”
“Oh my Gods,” you shake your head, giggling, and put it in both of your hands, “you don’t even like cemeteries.”
“You don’t need a cemetery for a funeral if you are creative enough, Darling,” he smiles cheekily, “I do put the fun in funeral after all.”
  You roll your eyes and shake your head with a smile at his Gods awful pun- he learned it from Shadowheart on their adventures and he loves to sprinkle it into conversations. 
“Fair.” 
   Somehow, you eventually end up asleep in his arms in the plush Inn bed like he had dreamed about the other night. You snore softly as Astarion holds you closely to him- making a point of looking at the door and windows frequently enough so there aren’t any surprise visitors. 
  Astarion has never actually cuddled with anyone (willingly, at least). Anyone who’s ever been in a bed with him has been condemned to becoming Vampire spawn (he almost wishes they had all just been dead). It was just sex, nothing more or less. Sure people offered, but it never felt right. 
  This? This feels right and like you were made for him. It’s a miracle truly- Intimacy without any sexual touch and he has the choice to be there, curled up around you. 
  It feels heavenly- better than his trances could have ever imagined. 
  You are both the same temperature so you almost feel warm to the touch. Your eyes are moving back and forth as you dream, he is relieved to see a content smile on your face. 
 Astarion is prepared to be there for you if you have nightmares. You have taught him that just having someone to comfort you is enough. He just wishes you didn’t experience any of it in the first place, but he won’t be keeping you too far out of reach or unguarded so hopefully it will never happen again.
  Eventually sleep takes Astarion too and he’s grateful for the somewhat peaceful rest- until it turns into a full blown fucking sex dream. 
  Astarion tries not to jolt you awake- somehow aware enough of his surroundings to know you are still there. You are still fast asleep- dawn is coming and Astarion is not, which could very well be a problem if you wake up while he’s hard.
   He sneaks away to the washroom- making sure to lock the door. 
 He will just take a bath, cool himself off, and then go back to bed for a cuddle. It’ll be like this never happened. 
(Smut begins)
 He’s never actually masturbated and there is a significant amount of weariness when he thinks about the idea. Sure he’s done it for show, but never in a private, alone moment.
  Astarion has basically been celibate for the last nine months and of course, now that you are a ghost person again, his libido decides to rear it’s ugly head.
 He doesn’t even know if you actually want him that way!
  The water is lukewarm and Astarion leans back against the tub- willing his hard on to go away already. It feels almost impossible to forget his trance- the way your pretty mouth looked around his cock, the way you keened when he filled you for the first time, the dance that takes the act from slow and romantic to something else entirely. 
  Wild, passionate- unrehearsed. 
  Astarion wraps his hands around his cock- desperate for any release he can get at this point. He isn’t going to be able to will this trance or these desires away and he is entirely in control of the act- if he becomes uncomfortable or begins to dissociate, he can stop. 
 “You don’t have to sleep with these people,” you reminded him softly, “Hells- you don’t have to do any of it at all if you don’t want to! Even if you are both naked and you’re already inside the person- you can stop. A good person, a person worthy of you, will respect your needs and be understanding.”
  Astarion can stop. You helped him with this realization nine or ten odd months ago. 
   He strokes himself slowly at first, trying to mimic the movements of the trance- starting with your mouth. You are inexperienced and Astarion imagines teaching you how to suck him off- your wide, beautiful eyes looking up at him eagerly as he praises you for being such a good girl for him.  
  His breath hitches when he runs his thumb over the head and applying a bit of pressure over his slit, his hips bucking upward and his brain paints the beautiful picture of him thrusting into your mouth- guiding your movements by grasping your hair as gently as he possibly can as he gets closer and closer to his peak. 
  In this fantasy- you moan around his mouth and you are touching yourself while taking his whole length until he hits the back of your throat. You wear his shirt like you are now- nipples pert, your breasts swaying as he thrusts into you. Your eyes are lustful, hazy, and wanting.
  Astarion’s head goes back by instinct- a breathy moan escaping his mouth and he’s thinking about what it might be like to be inside you. What it would be like to finally connect with someone he adores intimately. 
  He imagines exploring every single inch of you- finding what makes you wet and wanting for him. Astarion will ruin you for any other lover- his tongue teasing your clit and lapping up your juices like a man dying of thirst. 
 Astarion wants- no, needs- you to be crying out his name and telling him how you will only ever be his like he will only ever be yours. 
(Smut ends)
  He reaches his peak much faster than he anticipated- the release feeling like heaven. Astarion pants as he stares up at the ceiling, entirely blissed out. 
 Now that was incredible. He can understand why people enjoy it from time to time.
 His mind continues to think of you and it gets caught on the words the elderly woman had said earlier today- about how you were lucky to have him and vice versa. Astarion let’s his brain indulge for a millisecond before locking the thought back into the “we aren’t going to talk about this right now, self!” box.
 Althaeastra “Birdie” Ancunín. She would want a nice, but simple ring- nothing gaudy, he pauses his thoughts, or maybe she needs one simple ring and one gaudy one. Especially with her ability to pick up music again. What if she has to dress especially nice for an occasion? The ring should at least be able to tell people all the way out in the courtyard that she is spoken for. 
  He pushes his guilty pleasure thoughts aside. You are his dearest and closest companion- he will not screw that up by making you feel like you have to be in a relationship with him or like you have to jump into something right away. You just started your life and why would Astarion be your top pick? He’s a disaster- with or without you. 
  Well, the bliss was wonderful while it lasted. Now he’s just sad.
  After cleaning up- Astarion finds himself leaning against the door frame, jealous of the warm rays of sun that get to kiss your face first thing this morning. You are still asleep and don’t stir when Astarion climbs back into bed behind you. 
  One day, he will tell you his feelings, but for now? Astarion is going to try to go back to sleep.
***********************************************************************
Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)
Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper
20 notes · View notes
frienderbender · 2 years
Text
on the topic of old nikki. my favorite thing (and this still happens even kinda recently??) is there was this era where for some reason everyone drew nikki with a ponytail??? but the thing is i’ve never drawn her with a ponytail
4 notes · View notes
dancing-with-stars · 9 months
Text
i am losing my mind
10 notes · View notes
cherryvanillacokee · 2 years
Text
hailstorm and snowfall could bond over the fact that they were both different dragons for a bit (look at the tags i wrote some big brain stuff)
42 notes · View notes
Text
shoutout to the customer at work yesterday who got mad at me when I assumed "I will gift wrap these items at home" meant he would use his own wrapping paper, and insisted I give him store wrapping paper for 10 items for free
1 note · View note
Text
every time I have to wade through inane ship wars where people are willfully ignorant to the depth and facets of cloud strife's character, circumstance, and story just so I can find some cool screenshots or fanart my 'cloud is ace' agenda simply grows more potent out of spite
#rebirth literally said in bold letters he has multiple feelings. like humans do#and yet in the year 2024 i am still forced to see 'this ship was canon since 1997 unlike the other one'#do you have a brain that you use#are you capable of actually delving into the details of a character#without reducing them to barbie dolls that get smacked off one another#i just want to look at cool fanart man#dont even get me STARTED on how zack slots into all this#my boy has not haunted the narrative for you to go and ignore character developments like this#this is all coming out more blunt than i would normally try to write things#but brother i am so tired#i could write a whole post on how it is very real and normal for humans to feel affection for more than 1 person#and how it manifests in cloud and the whys#if the game itself is somehow not clear enough to you then you are simply choosing to close your eyes at that point#trying to act superior and objective about your ship while ignoring the material you claim to have gotten your Objective Facts™ from...#good gravy.#shipping is supposed to be a fun thing secondary to enjoying the content#not a primary objective to use it to argue with people#i would say peace and love on planet gaia but im sure some people would read it as peace and you can only love one person at a time forever#on planet gaia. haha.#anyway...... now that that's out my system i can be at peace again#shout out 2 my fellow multishippers who take this bountiful wealth of content and have fun with it#i think im gonna replay rebirth's story soon#want to see how much more i can pick out about new/updated approaches to characterization#rocket town will be very interesting in part 3 i think#yuffie too with wutai supposedly becoming a much more fleshed out thing#if this post somehow breaches containment:#if your first thought is to um actually me and whip out 'evidence'. i am not going to give you rhe time of day#because my rambling clearly went over your head and im not interested in 1sided discussion where i am being talked at rather than to#anyway have fun stop wasting time arguing and pls look forward to remake part 3 where i lose my mind over vincents waist. again#look what you did you raised my blood pressure enough to hit the tag limit. anyway peace and love on planet g-
0 notes
deadsetobsessions · 4 months
Text
Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
3K notes · View notes
bruisedboys · 4 months
Note
This celebration is ADORABLE! Finnick Odair with ❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜
hi honey, thank you so much! join the celebration
finnick odair x fem!reader (r is implied to be a past victor)
You feel a bit silly standing at Finnick’s door in your pyjamas, your face damp with tears, bare feet sinking into the carpeted floor. The train hums beneath you, almost hypnotising. You’re a bad sleeper in general, but being on this train has resurfaced so many things you wish you could forget. You don’t know why you expected any better, but tonight’s been dreadful.
You’re not sure if Finnick will even answer the door. You want to try anyway because your heart won’t stop racing and he’s the only person you’d ever want to see at a time like this.
“Finnick?” You swallow around the thick lump in your throat and knock softly on his door. “It’s me.”
He’s at the door faster than you expected. Perhaps he was having as bad a night as you.
“Y/N?” Finnick blinks at you. His hair’s a mess, his shirt crumpled. “Hey. Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”
You blink away fresh tears that threaten to spill. “I’m— I can’t sleep,” you confess. Red hot embarrassment creeps up your neck like flames. “I’m really sorry I woke you.”
Finnick shakes his head. “No, no, don’t be,” he murmurs, a pinch between his brows. “It’s okay, honey, I get it. Did you want to come in?”
You nod silently. He encourages you in to sit on the end of his bed, letting the door shut behind you. You and Finnick, you have a strange relationship. You’re very close, he knows you inside out, has learnt all your secrets but one. You think you’re in love with him, and you really hope he feels the same, but you’re worried that sparkly hope is blinding you. Either way, he’ll do anything for you, which is why you’re here.
You sit on his bed, silent. Your chest feels tight, like someone’s gone and tied a knot with all your organs. Tears well in your eyes and you blink them away desperately.
Finnick moves to stand over you, tall and firm but buzzing with worry. He takes your face in his hands, achingly gentle.
“You wanna tell me what’s the matter?” He asks softly. He swipes at your lower lash line where fresh tears are starting to gather. “What’s made a pretty girl like you cry so much, hm?”
You’re so upset you miss his blatant flirting. You’ll remember it in the morning, though, and you won’t be able to look him in the eye for the rest of the day.
“I keep having these awful dreams,” you say, your voice a strained, weak thing. You take a deep breath, determined to get through telling Finnick what’s bothering you without crying. “I thought they’d gone away, but I guess being on this train, it’s all come flooding back. It’s horrible, Finnick. I don’t …”
Your voice breaks. Your face crumples. So much for not crying. The first of a fresh round of tears spill over Finnick’s hands. He makes a sad, pitying noise and wraps you up in a strong hug.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He encourages your head to his abdomen, seemingly not caring that your tears are quickly dampening his shirt. He rubs your back with a big, warm hand. “It’s okay.”
He lets you cry into his shirt for as long as you need. You know he knows there’s nothing much he can say. Not that he’s said already, anyway. You’re always gonna be haunted, always followed by the sharp bite of grief and guilt. Still, it’s nice to be understood. To be touched like he’s trying to hold all of the pieces of you together lest you crumble.
Finnick rubs your back diligently until the tears ebb and you’re breathing normally again. He pulls back and you miss his warmth. You wish he’d hold you forever. His hands feel grounding as he tilts your face up to look at him.
“You’re safe with me,” he tells you softly. “Yeah?”
You nod. Your head hurts. Your chest burns from crying so much and you’re bone-deep tired. Finnick must notice, because he strokes your cheek fondly.
“You’re tired, lovely girl?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement. His warm hand where it loves on your cheek is enough to send you to sleep. You feel very safe with him indeed. “You need sleep. You’re welcome to stay here, if you want. Would you like to?”
“If that’s okay,” you whisper hoarsely.
Finnick smiles, a soft pretty thing, enough to make your heavy heart soar. He chucks you under the chin fondly. “Of course it’s okay, sweetheart. I think we’ll both get a better sleep if you’re here with me.”
You’re too tired to ask what he means, but you can guess.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Peace | Coriolanus Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)
Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.
Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes
Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.
Tumblr media
Our coming-of-age has come and gone
Suddenly the summer, it's clear
I never had the courage of my convictions
As long as danger is near
And it's just around the corner, darling
'Cause it lives in me
No, I could never give you peace
Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.
However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.
The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.
District 12.
Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.
He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.
He lost everything. Every hope for the better.
That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.
Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.
He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.
Why did he do it?
Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.
Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.
He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.
Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.
"And it's just around the corner, darling
'Cause it lives in me"
Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.
Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.
Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.
Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.
Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.
"No, I could never give you peace"
But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm
If your cascade ocean wave blues come
All these people think love's for show
But I would die for you in secret
The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.
His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.
The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.
No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.
A girl from District 12.
He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.
But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.
Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.
He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.
Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.
Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.
°
Why am I here? What am I doing?
These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.
The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.
Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.
He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.
As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.
It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.
At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?
But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.
More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.
Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.
Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.
"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.
Your integrity makes me seem small
You paint dreamscapes on the wall
I talk shit with my friends
It's like I'm wasting your honor
Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.
He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.
He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.
"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."
Coriolanus ignored him.
He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.
"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."
Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.
"I don't-"
"Don't lie to me, Coryo."
He kept his mouth shut after that.
And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences
Sit with you in the trenches
Give you my wild, give you a child
Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other
Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother
Is it enough?
Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.
His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.
He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.
He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.
Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.
"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.
You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.
Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.
You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.
You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.
He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.
He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.
"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.
"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."
This took him a back a little.
"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.
"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."
He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.
But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.
But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west
I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best
But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me
One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.
You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.
You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.
That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.
"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."
When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.
You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.
Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.
"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."
"Of course I will Coryo, but-"
"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.
"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Joan Tierney Why Are You Haunted? / @/oceaii (tumblr) / Liv Ullmann Changing / The Elektra Complex / Rosario Castellanos Monologue of a Foreign Woman from "Meditation on the Threshold: A Bilingual Anthology of Poetry / unknown / @/violentcherries (tumblr) / @/nutnoce (tumblr) / Jean-Paul Sartre Nausea / unknown
i. Joan Tierney Why Are You Haunted? [ "This haunting is architectural. It is not about you. It is about where you are. There are bones in the foundation. This house is a graveyard. This house is a corpse. You are inside the corpse. That makes you the maggot." ]
ii. @/oceaii (tumblr) [ Black and white illustration of a deer. The deer looks forwards in the first panel and turns back to face the audience in the second panel. "Turn and face / the person you've become." ]
iii. Liv Ullmann Changing [ "I will never forget the loneliness I knew as a child. For a period in my life I hid behind a mask. Did not want to acknowledge any longing. / Now it is a part of me-something I can share. / Both the loneliness and the longing." ]
iv. The Elektra Complex [ "If you were to peel the skin of me apart as a fig's, you would finally understand. I am my mother's daughter. From poisoned seeds sprout poisoned fruits." ]
v. Rosario Castellanos Monologue of a Foreign Woman [ "I didn't want / to be the dead star / that uses borrowed light to survive." ]
vi. unknown [ Black and white illustration of two deer. They are both labeled with words. The deer in the background says "just be." The deer in the foreground replies "just being is the hardest part." ]
vii. @/violentcherries (tumblr) [ "the environment you are not thriving in is not yours forever / IT'S OKAY TO LEAVE / ... / IT'S OKAY to abandon the things you used to love" ]
viii. @/nutnoce (tumblr) [ Black and white illustration of a scorpion doing chores. It's tail just barely curls over the front of a clothes line. Various pairs of socks hang from the clothes line. It stands before a bucket with more clothes inside. "I come from the toughest, meanest place you can imagine. / I want to be gentle, I want to die gently, but / It seems that when life gets hard / I have to get harder to match." ]
ix. Jean-Paul Sartre Nausea [ "I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar." ]
x. unknown [ "1. Man is a MORAL animal. / 2. You can get human beings to do anything - IF you can convince them it is moral. / 3. You can convince human beings that anything is moral." ]
7K notes · View notes
navybrat817 · 15 days
Note
For the dialogue prompts, how about our Bucky with 17. "I can't lose you, baby. I've already lost too much." ? Please and thanks wonderful Miss Navy!!!
Some Days
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky gets scared some days that he'll lose you.
Word Count: Over 500
Warnings: Mild sexual content, slight angst, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: An overprotective prompt ficlet that could turn into more. Nat, I hope you like it ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bucky took you right to bed when he came home safely from his recent mission. Some days he needed to forget the weight of the unfair burdens he carried. As many times as he was unwillingly wiped, he would forever remember the horrors. The nightmares served as a reminder. He didn’t want to let them consume him.
He would drown in sorrow if he did.
“One more, baby,” he ordered gruffly, thrusting deep and helping you ride out your orgasm. “Give me one more.”
Some days forgetting meant taking you until he had his fill. He still had your hand above your head, your fingers laced together as he stretched his body over yours. He pulled another orgasm from you before he filled you to the brim. Pinned beneath him, you remembered that you belonged to him. And he’d never forget that he had someone worth fighting for.
Someone worth protecting.
“Talk to me,” you urged, focusing on him through the fog of pleasure.
“I get scared some days,” he whispered, still buried inside you.
“You? Scared?” You asked, touching his cheek. Like always, he leaned into your hand. Where one of you went, the other followed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It's true. Because some days I wake up and I worry when you're not there beside me,” he said, his voice as gentle as his kisses. “I can't breathe properly until I see your face or hear your voice.”
The wonderful ache between your thighs was a contrast to the one in your heart at his stormy gaze. Ghosts haunted the man you loved, but you would find ways to chase them away. “I don’t want you to worry. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.”
“My job is dangerous and I’m not always here,” he reminded you. There was always the chance that he’d never come home to you. But wasn’t life in general unpredictable? “I have enemies.”
“I know. And I know how to protect myself. You taught me, remember?” You pointed out. He made sure you knew how to fight. “And I'm still not going anywhere, Bucky.”
You gasped when he shifted his hips, his weight settling over you. “I can't lose you, baby,” he said, his eyes so intense that you nearly shrank under his gaze. But you weren’t afraid of how much he loved you because you loved him just as strongly. “I've already lost too much.”
Bucky Barnes lost almost everything. Time. Family. Autonomy. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t deserve it.
He deserved love and you’d be there to give it to him.
“You won’t lose me,” you whispered.
He sighed, your words like a balm to an invisible wound. “Still love me?”
“Always,” you promised, pulling him down for a tender kiss.
Bucky was home and you would wake up beside him in the morning, but life was unpredictable. Someone would try to take you away soon. Someone with a grudge against the man who captured your heart.
And that someone would soon discover that messing with Bucky’s girl was a death wish.
Tumblr media
Who do we think is dumb enough to go after Bucky's girl? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
612 notes · View notes
shiny-jr · 9 months
Text
from DIASOMNIA
- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 
- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.
- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.
- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing​‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.
Diasomnia   |   Ignihyde
Tumblr media
Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.
You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.
To my dearest human,
I understand the pain I have caused you.
Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.
I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.
Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.
Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.
For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.
Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.
Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.
If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.
I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.
Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done. 
For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue. 
I will await the moment I am summoned.
Forever yours,
Malleus Draconia
That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream. 
You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink. 
You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue. 
“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.” 
Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.” 
Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks. 
This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier. 
As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed. 
If you’re reading this, 
This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes. 
Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco. 
I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.
All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field. 
Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet. 
Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved. 
But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly. 
Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you. 
They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable. 
There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment. 
Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you. 
Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll. 
I eagerly wait for word from you. 
Until we meet again soon, 
Lilia Vanrouge
None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest. 
Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time? 
“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?” 
“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago. 
“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.” 
Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...” 
You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read. 
This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries. 
Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...” 
A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.” 
Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!” 
Dear player, 
I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies. 
I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise. 
I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain. 
Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us? 
Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay. 
You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor. 
After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient. 
Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace. 
Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you. 
If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now... 
Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace. 
I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask. 
This is a pledge that will not be broken. 
Cordially, 
Silver
This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly. 
But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either. 
Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.” 
At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?” 
“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.” 
Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.
“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile. 
The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there. 
As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind. 
Great Player, 
As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.
I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary! 
To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!
Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...
But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you! 
I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self! 
I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth! 
From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well. 
Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know. 
Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds! 
How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be! 
It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written! 
I will make sure they are delivered posthaste! 
Faithfully, 
Sebek Zigvolt 
Great... you’re back to being unnerved again. 
There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you. 
Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster. 
As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve. 
Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––
“Hey!” 
You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.
“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 13 days
Note
Babe congrats on quitting!!!
I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more
R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?
thank you!!
You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk. 
“I’m fine.” 
“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?” 
It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.” 
Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too. 
James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork. 
He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively. 
“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.” 
“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?” 
“It’s nothing.” 
James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?” 
Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say. 
“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.
You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.” 
“What happened?” 
You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face. 
His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.” 
“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.” 
He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.” 
You frown at one another. “Why not?” 
“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?” 
“No,” you mumble. 
“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again. 
“I’m consistently below average.” 
“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.” 
Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does. 
He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.” 
“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.” 
“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?” 
You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?
When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.
461 notes · View notes
sycamoregirlsworld · 2 months
Text
Cowboy Like Me- L. Castellan
Luke x fem! reader
shorter then usual
“now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon. with your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con.” - taylor swift
Tumblr media
Nothing had felt right since Luke had left. Days seemed duller, nothing was exciting anymore, it was a chore to just get up every day.
The pitying glances thrown her way had long turned cold. No one cared to check up on her anymore when she stayed in bed all day, the rest of the camp thought she should just get over it.
It made (Y/n) feel pathetic. Luke had betrayed them, he had left her without a goodbye! So why did she miss him so much?
She found it stupid, she found him stupid. Luke knew she would’ve gone with him without even so much as a ‘please.’
So why didn’t he ask her? Why didn’t he take her away?
Instead, she was left at camp. She was all alone, people didn’t want to talk to her anymore. Everyone was scared that Luke’s girlfriend would turn out just like him. That maybe she was a spy for him.
She supposed their feelings weren’t wrong, if given the chance she would leave like Luke. If given the chance maybe she would’ve been a spy for him.
But he hadn’t talked to her in months, not since the day he had disappeared without a trace.
She missed how it used to be, she missed the happiness. She longed for when Luke would sneak into her cabin late at night to hold her in his arms, or how they’d sneak away from the campfires to be alone, she even missed when he’d tease her over at bad she was at sword fighting but still assist her in any way he could.
It wasn’t like that now, and it would never be that way again.
She slept alone now, no longer with Luke’s warmth enveloping her. She found it annoying how her siblings would tease her when they found them cuddled up in the morning, but now she yearned for it more then anything. It was better then the harsh glares they sent her way.
Campfires were lonelier then ever. She never stayed long anymore, memories of the happier past haunting her. The fire burned at her skin, and the songs hurt her ears.
As she looked around, her eyes caught sight of Annabeth laughing and joking with Percy. She didn’t understand how Annabeth could act like nothing had happened, she was his sister..
Maybe it was her jealousy talking, it wasn’t fair how everyone had just moved on and (Y/n) was still stuck in her grief.
Had no one cared for Luke? Did no one care that he had betrayed them?
She had to leave, it wasn’t like anyone would’ve cared if she left anyways.
She slipped into the woods like her and Luke had done time and time before, trudging over the sticks and underbrush to the one place she knew would bring her comfort.
(Y/n) found herself in a secluded area near Zeus’s fist. It was a place her and Luke would come often, whether they just wanted to hang out or if Luke needed her and there were people in the cabins.
She slid down to her knees in front of a little opening in the rocks, (Y/n) reaching her hand in to retrieve the duffle bag she and Luke had hidden there long ago.
At some point, the bag had held all the things the needed when they were alone together. Snacks, a blanket, condoms Luke had snagged from Gods-knows-who, and a couple of mixtapes.
But now, the bag held all the remnants she had left of Luke. Clothes, stupid jewlery she had made for him, and poloroids of them were stuffed into the bag.
She had done this many times since he was left, sneaking away from camp and grabbing the duffle bag so she could pretend that Luke was still with her.
This time, however, the smooth fabric of the bag didn’t meet her fingers. (Y/n) frowned as she shoved her hand deeper into the crevice, but her hand only met dirt.
“What the fuck…” She mumbled as she lowered herself to the ground to look into the hole. “Where is it?”
Panic started to rise in her chest as she started swiping at the leaves that surrounded her, in hopes of finding the bag.
This was all she had left of Luke, she needed this bag!
“Where is it!?” Her breaths came out labored as tears started filming over her eyes.
Her shaky hands snaked into her hair, tugging on it in stress.
“Looking for something?”
(Y/n) froze as she heard the voice behind her, this wasn’t real. This had to be a stress induced hallucination.
She craned her head around, her mouth going dry as she saw Luke standing behind her with the duffel bag hanging from his fingers.
What was wrong with her? She’d dreamt about the moment he’d come back to her for so long, making up scenarios of what she would say or do to him.
Would she beat his ass for leaving her? Cry? Make-out with him?
But as he stood over her, dark curls hanging over his eyes, she was frozen.
“L-Luke?” She croaked out.
Luke smiled softly as he crouched down in front of her, his hand grabbing her chin as he tilted her head up.
She almost started sobbing right then, realizing just how much she had missed his touch.
“Hey, baby…” His breathed out. Now that he was closer, (Y/n) could see his face more clearly. He looked different, stronger. His face was more mature, and his clothes looked more expensive then the stupid camp shirt he had always worn.
But his hair was still the same curly mess she loved, and his eyes were still the same ones she adored.
“Why are you.. here..” Her voice shook as she gripped his wrist.
He unzipped the duffel with his free hand and pulled out a mixtape. “I wanted this.” He shrugged before tossing it back in. “It’s a plus that you kept all my stuff in here, needed some of that.”
(Y/n) felt her face grow hot in anger, he was here for that stupid mixtape? What about her! Was he not going to come steal her away?
She shoved his hand off her chin and stumbled away. “What about me?” She glared at him.
“That’s why I wanted the mixtape..” He frowned and reached out for her again. “I’ve been going crazy without my girl with me..”
She saw red at his statement. He was going crazy? How did he think she felt!?
“Then why did you leave me?” She spat out as she slapped his hand away from her, tears falling down her cheeks involuntarily.
“I didn’t want to get you involved—” Luke rushed out, trying to crawl closer to her. “I didn’t want to leave you, but it was too dangerous to take you with me.”
“You shouldn’t have made the choice for me!” She sobbed, head falling in her hands. “I need you, and you left me…”
“(Y/n)….” Luke whispered. He tilted her head up as his thumb brushed her cheek, wiping her tears away with fond eyes. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You know I hate seeing you like this.”
Her cheeks flushed as she gazed up at him with wet eyes. She hated how after all this time, he still had this affect on her.
She was supposed to be angry, she should want beat his (pretty) face in with that stupid mixtape, but instead all she wanted his him.
She wanted—no, she needed—his comfort, she needed his affection, she just needed him.
“C’mon pretty girl, I know you’re happy to see me.”
(Y/n) squeezed her eyes shut and looked away from the boy, she was happy to see him.
“Take me.” She blurted out as she looked back up at him, her hands meeting his sharp jawline.
“What do you mean..?” Luke mumbled, his hands reached up to grab hers.
“Take me with you this time, I want to be with you..” (Y/n) begged him.
Luke hesitated as he stared down at her. His eyes flicked between her eyes and lips, desire clouding his thoughts. How had he been holding back for so long? He’d been so needy for her for months, and now that she was in front of him he hadn’t even kissed her.
“But what about camp?” He tilted his head to the side, reaching a hand out to run his thumb along her cheek.
“I don’t care about camp.” She immediately shook her head, melting into his embrace. “I just want you”
Luke sighed before tugging her forward, his nose brushing against hers. “You know there’s no coming back from this, right?”
“I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”
Luke’s restraint snapped, and he captured her lips with his in a frenzied motion.
(Y/n) moaned as his hand gripped her throat, applying just the right amount of pressure that sent shivers down her spine.
Despite the months apart, he still knew her intimate desires. The knowledge made her heart pound in anticipation.
Her hands ended up in his curls, tugging at them softly as she desperately pulled him closer. The kiss was rough and desperate with longing, their teeth clashing as they tasted eachother for the first time in months.
“Fuck, I missed you so much.” Luke groaned as he pulled away from her lips and started to kiss down her neck.
(Y/n) crawled into his lap and gripped his hair, her nails digging into his scalp. “I missed you too, don’t ever leave me again.” She pleaded as she felt Luke suck on her neck, no doubt leaving marks along her skin.
Luke grunted as she climbed into his lap, bucking his hips up into hers with a needy whine. “Never again.” He mumbled into her neck, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
569 notes · View notes
patsmassivekeychain · 4 months
Text
Ok more coherent thoughts now. I can already see how this ending is probably going to be divisive and to an extent I understand why. Before it aired, I wasn't keen on the idea of the show ending like this. People don't like endings where the found family go their separate ways, except that isn't really what's happening here. And I think the way they did it was perfect.
Alison has come in and completely turned these ghosts' unlives around. She's given them purpose, connections with the outside world and each other, and above all a lack of boredom. Boredom is one of the main existential challenges the ghosts face. Alison isn't abandoning them to what they had before she came - she's leaving them with the tools to actually live rather than just exist after her.
And she's not gone forever! Families don't have to live together to be family. She comes back and visit them regularly! Maybe it's just because I moved out from my parents' in the last few years and I'm back for Christmas, but her being a regular at the hotel, coming back and visiting them at least every Christmas (maybe more) was very moving to me. Just because she's moved out doesn't mean they're not still family.
Having it become a hotel is a nice bookend and I bet it's improved the ghosts' quality of unlife a lot. As I said, their biggest challenge has always been boredom. A hotel/golf course probably isn't at all boring. How many affairs do you think Julian has watched? It's perfect for them, with all the people coming and going. I bet they even stage the odd haunting for fun. A constant, varied existence is a great fate for them.
Ending the episode with the plague ghosts was PERFECT. Obviously, it was great to see them again and it was hilarious as they always are. But it struck me just how much this decision has improved their situation - they've gone from dingy cellar to sauna. And that's the analogy of how much things have improved for all the ghosts.
Change is scary. It's sad when things come to an end. But sometimes it's for the best. And an end doesn't always mean a closed door.
833 notes · View notes