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coffeeshades · 2 months

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credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART I

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! this turned out pretty long so i will be splitting it into parts so it's easier. next part will be posted soon. i hope you all have as much fun reading this as i had writing it. enjoy!

part two

The breeze riffled through your hair as you drove, the sun warming your skin through the open windows. The Irish countryside stretching out before you, lush and green, with rolling hills and quaint villages dotting the landscape. The scent of wildflowers and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees filled your senses.

It was rare, really. The silence, the feeling of complete freedom, and the solitude that enveloped you. A fleeting escape from the chaos of your everyday life.

The ping of your phone interrupted the peaceful moment. You tapped on the pop-up notification after briefly glancing at the directions to your destination. It was a message from Cillian. Well, two, actually. One was asking how far you were, and the other was a Spotify link followed by a question mark. Ever since he started hosting his bbc radio show, he's been sending you potential songs for his playlists to get your opinion. Not that he needs it anyway. But you always appreciate being included in his process.

Your lips curled into a smile as you clicked on the link. The familiar sound of The Blue Nile's "The Downtown Lights" flooded the car, instantly making you feel a wave of nostalgia. It's been ages since you've listened to that song. The synth-pop melody carries you up the pine-dotted path to where his house perches atop a hill, overlooking the crashing waves below. You've been here a couple of times, and yet it never gets less breathtaking. The Victorian architecture contrasting beautifully with the rugged coastline, creating a scene straight out of a painting.

The car glides right past the wrought iron gates, and you cut the engine in front of the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. You shoot Cillian a quick text letting him know you're here, unbuckle your seat belt, and hop out of the car.

The June sun beats down on your skin instantly, heat radiating off the cobblestones as you open the backdoor to look through your bag for a hair tie. The smell of saltwater mingles with the sound of gulls overhead, sending you into sensory overload. "Gotcha," you mutter to yourself as you finally find the hair tie and pull your hair back into a loose bun.

"You drove here?" you hear him call out from behind you, his voice tinged with surprise. "And you're alone?" you turn around to see Cillian walking towards you, a curious expression on his face.

"I actually had to throw a tantrum to convince them to let me come alone," you reply with a chuckle, feeling a sense of pride at your small victory. "I was like, It's Ireland. What's the worst that could happen?"

Being who you are means being guarded against any potential danger or harm at all times, being driven to almost everywhere, and always having a security team around.

Cillian laughs, a sound that makes your heart flutter and makes you want to hear it again and again. "Well, I'm glad you made it here in one piece, love," he says with a grin. "You're not a very good driver."

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You did regret your decision to drive from the airport 10 minutes later when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road. But he didn't need to know that.

"I made it in one piece, didn't I?" you playfully retort, trying to salvage your wounded pride. Cillian chuckles and shakes his head with a twinkle in his eye. You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He looks good, you thought. Unbelievably good. Well rested. His jet black hair was perfectly styled, even though you know he didn't put any effort into it—the slightest hint of silver at the temples, his sharp jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. Though they looked a little tired, as if he had been through a lot since the last time you saw him.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling a rush of heat on your cheeks.

"It's good to see you," you finally manage to say, trying to sound casual. Cillian's smile softens, and he replies, "It's good to see you too." He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. The soft fabric of his t-shirt brushes against your skin as you embrace him, and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.

"Come on, let's get inside," he says, leading you towards the house. Once inside, you make your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet; you wondered if anyone else was home. Cillian's family wasn't by any means loud or boisterous, but the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You hungry, love?" Cillian asks, opening the fridge, pulling out a white ceramic container, and setting it up on the kitchen island. You take a seat on one of the stools while he stands across from you.

"For something sweet?" you smile, seeing the container filled with what seems to be a piece of strawberry sponge cake. His mom must've made it. "Always," you reply. He hands you a spoon and takes one for himself, the two of you sharing the dessert in comfortable silence.

Until he broke it.

"How was Madrid?" he asks softly.

"It was good, great crowd," you reply, taking another bite of the dessert. "But tiring," you add, feeling the exhaustion of the long trip settling in.

"How many nights did you perform?"

"Four."

"Jesus, that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

Your eyes meet his; confusion clear in your expression. "You think that's a lot? Didn't you used to do four or five nights in a row of the same play?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "for months…?

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of exhaustion," he explains, taking another bite. "Performing the way you do in front of a live audience for three hours is a whole different ball game, love."

Love.

There it was again. That godforsaken term of endearment that he seemed to throw around so casually. It made your heart race every time he said it, even though you knew it probably meant nothing to him. But the way he looked at you now, with a hint of admiration in his eyes, made you wonder if maybe—

"Want the last bite?" he offered, taking you out of your thoughts. He pushed the container towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. His gaze was intense, as if silently urging you to take it.

"Oh, hello," a voice exclaimed from behind you, breaking the moment. You drop the spoon on the counter, a little startled. As if you were caught in the act of something forbidden. You turned around to see Yvonne, Cillian's wife. She said your name with a surprised tone, making you feel guilty for some reason. "I didn't know you were here," she continued, her eyes flickering between you and her husband.

You started to rise from your seat, confusion clouding your thoughts. That's weird. Cillian usually lets his wife know when you're visiting, but this time it seems like he didn't. She walked towards you, enveloping you in a hug. "When did you get here?" she said.

"Not long ago," you replied, relieved that she didn't seem upset. "I, uh, wanted to take a break and thought Ireland might be a good place to do that," you added, hoping to diffuse any tension that may have arisen. She nodded understandingly. "And you're staying here?"

"Oh, no, no," you quickly assured her. "I rented a place nearby, so you don't have to worry about me."

"Nonsense," Cillian interjected. "You can stay here. There's plenty of room."

"She's already paid for it, Cillian," Yvonne retorted, giving him a stern look.

Something was definitely off.

This was the last thing you wanted. You've specifically chosen the cottage for two reasons. First, to have space. The whole point of this trip was to finally have peace and write music. You've been stuck for months, not being able to find inspiration in your usual surroundings. Everything felt dull inside you all day—an emptiness that was smothering.

Second, you needed to stay the fuck away from Cillian. Being close to him was dangerous territory, one you didn't want to navigate right now. The plan was to come and visit and occasionally hang out and that's it. The thought of being in such close quarters with him was overwhelming. Staying here meant risking your heart and sanity.

You hesitated, also not wanting to intrude on their space, but Cillian insisted.

"Okay…How about if I stay for a couple of days and then move to the cottage?" you suggested, hoping to compromise. "Sounds perfect to me," he said.

This was going to be a long summer.

For the next few days, you dream too much, don't write enough, and try to find inspiration everywhere. As you settled into the routine of staying at Cillian's, you found yourself enjoying the peaceful surroundings and his company more than you expected. The days seemed to blend together, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen glances that left your heart racing.

But you also felt constantly distracted by his presence, making it difficult to focus on your writing or anything else, for that matter.

All you could think about was him.

The piano room surrounded you with its warm, inviting atmosphere, and you found yourself drawn to it more often than not. The big windows overlooking the garden let in streams of sunlight, casting a warm glow over the bookshelf. You felt the softness of the carpet as you sat on the grand piano bench, running your fingers along the keys absentmindedly.

You started humming a tune that had been stuck in your head for days, the words appearing softly and effortlessly as you played:

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

The humming went on whenever you didn't know what to say next, filling in the gaps between the notes on the piano and the lyrics:

A greater woman has faith

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

The melody filled the room until you stopped abruptly, frustrated that the lyrics weren't coming as easily as before. You closed your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your mind. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, elbows resting on the keys of the piano.

"You good?" Cillian's rough voice broke through your frustration, causing you to look up and offer a weak smile. You don't know how long he's been standing there or how much he heard of your struggles. "Just hitting a wall with this song," you admitted, running a hand through your hair.

"Ah, I see," he nodded sympathetically. He moved towards the records stacked on the shelf and pulled one out, placing it on the turntable. "I don't want to mess with your creative process or anything, but maybe a break with some music will help," he suggested.

Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" began to play, taking over the room with its haunting melody.

"So you play one of the saddest songs ever?" you deadpanned, "Thanks."

He chuckled softly, "You were playing some pretty intense stuff; I figured it would fit right in."

Oh, so he did hear you.

"Ah, I know it's different from my usual stuff," you said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your music. "I might scrap that one. They might not be onboard with the change."

"And why's that?"

Thom Yorke's voice faded into the background as you contemplated his question, unsure of how to respond.

You shrugged, "I listen to sad music, not make it."

"I liked what I heard," he reassured you, "and change is good. It keeps things interesting."

His low voice was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with the idea of trying something new. Pop has been your comfort zone for so long, it's what stands out of you, but most importantly, it's what sells. At least, that's what's important to the industry. Maybe it was time to push yourself out of it.

"I guess you're right," you replied, a faint smile creeping onto your face.

"As always," he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He stood leaning against the table where the record player sat, arms crossed, looking as if he had too many things to say and not enough words for them.

"Would this be a good time to ask you if everything's okay?" you inquired, noticing the weight of unspoken thoughts in his eyes. "With Yvonne, I mean," you added, nervous to bring up the topic.

That first day, when you arrived at the house, you could sense there was something going on between them. Something bad. The tension in the air was so obvious, but you didn't want to pry. However, as the days went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she hadn't been around or the absence of a certain ring on his finger.

"And here, I thought you were never going to ask," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I was waiting for you to bring it up," your voice trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I didn't want to overstep."

He studied you for a moment, or at least, you assumed that was what he was doing. Finally, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat,"We've separated."

A cold feeling settled in your chest as you processed his words. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly everything made sense. "Cillian," is all you managed to say, the concern evident in your voice.

He still wouldn't look at you. Knowing him, in moments like this, he wouldn't want to be coddled or pitied, so you save your apologies for later.

"What happened?"

He waved his hand dismissively, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing, really," he said, his tone final. He didn't look upset, but rather resigned to the situation. "It hadn't been working for a long time; we both knew it was coming. I guess we were holding on for the boys more than anything." You could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you feeling defeated and unsure of what to say next. You don't think there's anything you can say that will make this or him feel better.

And boy, did you wish you could take away his pain with just a few words.

Cillian walked slowly over the piano, stopping in front of it. He streched his arms over the wooden soundboard, gripping the edges tightly as if seeking some sort of solace in the instrument. He finally looked at you.

"Why didn't you say anything, Cill?" you asked softly, "I would've—"

"You would've what?" he interrupted, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn't want to worry you, you have more important things than my marital issues."

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it tore at your heart to see him suffering in silence. "You're my friend. These things are important to me, Cill," you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. He flinched slightly at your touch, but then relaxed, leaning into your hand.

He didn't say anything, but you knew he appreciated your words. You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped in relief and the way his fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the piano.

One morning, you woke up to the wind gently rustling through the trees outside your windows. The morning light was clear and clean, leaking through the glass and falling against the walls of the room in soft patterns. It felt too early to be awake, too peaceful to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

You roll over to look at the little clock on the bedside table: 6:20 AM. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, so you threw the covers and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool wood floor beneath your feet as you walked to the bathroom.

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth, trying to wake yourself up fully. Holding up your hair, you tie it into a ponytail while walking over the bedside table to grab your phone and airpods. You put one in your ear and hit shuffle on one of your morning playlists. You couldn't function without some music. "Keep On Loving You" by Cigarettes After Sex starts playing.

On your way to the kitchen, you walked by Cillian's room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Who the hell sleeps with their door open? Psychos, probably. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked inside to see him sprawled out on his bed, body illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains—characteristic warm and cool shades revealing every hollow and speck of bare muscle. He slept with every limb stretched out, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. It was a rare sight, quite poetic.

He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of your presence. So you let your mind wander.

You imagined yourself crossing the room, pulling yourself on top of him. You imagined the way his bare body would look beneath you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair messy around his face, his skin warm against yours. His hands—rough and soft at the same time—running over your thigh, your breast, your neck. You could almost feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at you.

But then reality snapped back into focus.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. This was just a fantasy, a dangerous game to play with someone who was somewhat off-limits. But truth be told, the temptation was becoming harder to resist with each passing moment. It was all you could think about ever since he told you about his troubled marriage.

It took a long time for your heartbeat to slow. You headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help clear your mind. As you rummage through the cabinets for a mug, his voice startles you from behind. "Need some help with that?" he asks, making you jump.

For a moment you thought you were still imagining things, but you turn around to see him standing there with a t-shirt on as opposed to five minutes ago. Great, him walking around shirtless in his kitchen, sleepy-eyed, messy hair, and rough morning voice would've been lethal.

"I've got it, thanks," you reply, shaking the mug slightly in your hand. You quickly pour yourself some coffee and try to focus on the task at hand: looking for the sugar.

"Sleep well?" he asks, voice still husky from sleep, his accent more prominent. He's rifling through the cabinet for a mug of his own. You can't help but notice the way his muscles flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches up. You hum in agreement, trying to hide your blush as you take a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Grand," he replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. You exchange small talk about the upcoming day, but your mind keeps drifting back to how good he looks in the morning light.

"Any plans for today other than locking yourself in the piano room?" he teases, and you shoot him a playful glare. "Maybe I'll actually venture outside for once," you quip, laughing.

"How does the beach sound like?" he asks, "The boys are coming over, and they're bringing some friends, and I thought a trip would be a nice change of scenery."

"I could use some sun," you admit, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Let's make it a beach day then," he suggests, setting his mug on the sink. "We leave at 10, piano woman."

"Ha ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "But I'll hold you to it, annoying man," you reply.

"Annoying man?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite person."

"Only on days that end in 'y'."

•••

"Are you done with your sad boy music?"

Cillian bursts out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. He's been playing Radiohead on repeat for the whole car ride, and you were starting to feel like you were in a melancholy music video. "I like their music as much as the next person, but I think I need a break from the sadness," you say.

"Fine, fine," Cillian concedes, reaching for his phone to change the song. The bleak atmosphere in the car lifts as "Linger" by The Cranberries starts playing, filling the space with a more pleasant vibe. Cillian glances at you, he's wearing dark shades that hide his eyes, but you can still see his stoic expression softening as he catches you smiling at the change in music.

"Better?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Instead of answering, you start silently singing along to the lyrics, gesticulating dramatically for added effect. Cillian smiles at your antics, his own lips twitching in amusement as he watches you. The boys were so caught up in their conversation with their friends in the backseat that you were pretty sure they weren't even paying attention to the music or your impromptu performance. With a small smile on your face, you face out the window and enjoy the rest of the car ride in content silence.

When you arrive at your destination, all of you unbuckle your seat belts once Cillian puts the Bronco in park. You all pile out of the car, stretching your legs and taking in the sights around you. You close your eyes for a second and take a breath. The sea air—you loved that smell.

•••

A few hours later, after countless swims and some snacks, you find yourself lying on a beach towel, book in hand, feeling the warmth of the temperature on your skin. You're reading a book you picked up at an airport several months ago by Elin Hilderbrand, or the queen of beach reads, as many call her. You were completely engrossed in the story until you felt Cillian settling down next to you.

His hair was damp from the water, and his skin was slightly glistening. Gosh, he looked absolutely stunning. "Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Not at all," you reply, closing the book and sitting up. "Having fun?"

"Lots," he says with a smile, reaching over to grab his sunglasses. The two of you sit in comfortable silence. The laughter and chatter of his sons and friends coming from the water redirects your attention back to the beach scene before you. You look back at Cillian, his eyes fixed on his sons.

"They love you, you know," you say softly, watching the genuine joy on his face as he watches his children.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," he says, eyes still fixed on the boys. "I worry I might've fucked them up by letting my relationship with their mother fall apart."

He continues, "Sometimes I feel they resent me for it."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know, they just seem distant sometimes. Like they're holding back."

"Hey, that's normal for kids to have mixed feelings about their parents' separation. I was so happy when mine got divorced because it meant no more fighting, but it was also tough to adjust to the changes. It's very conflicting stuff," you say, huffing a small laugh. "Also, they're teenagers now, right? That's a tough age to navigate even without the added stress of divorce."

Cillian nods in agreement, exhaling out a yeah.

You squint against the sunlight beaming behind his head before continuing.

"You're a great dad, you always have been. Just show up and be there for them when they need you, even if they don't always seem to appreciate it. They'll remember it in the long run," you offer, remembering how much your own father's presence meant to you after your parents' divorce. "And I'm not a parent, but what parent feels like they're doing everything right all the time, anyway?"

Cillian turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment before offering a small smile. "I guess you're right," he says sincerely.

"Fork found in kitchen," you retort, breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He chuckles, "That's clever."

"Well," you continue, "I've been accused of many things over the years, but being unoriginal isn't one of them."

He laughs. Just like he did back in the car: a genuine, carefree laugh that makes you feel a little lighter.

"Want to go for one last swim, piano woman?"

You roll your eyes. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Cillian replies with a grin. "It's too fitting."

You stand up and stretch. You're wearing a one-piece teal-ish swimsuit that you swear you only chose based on comfort and not because it makes your ass and breasts look fantastic. Cillian's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, and you swear you can see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He doesn't move.

"Are you coming or…?"

"Right, one last swim," he finally says, standing up and following you towards the water.

Maybe that one last swim wasn't a great idea after all.

And why is that?

Because not even five minutes into the water, you thought it would be a good idea to jump from a high rock, and now you're sitting in the car with your knee scrapped, throbbing in pain, and regretting your impulsive decision.

•••

"You're so fuckin' stubborn."

You try to move into a more comfortable position while ignoring the pain shooting up your leg by pressing a hand against one side of the door to keep yourself steady. "And you're so clearly overreacting."

Cillian pushes his bedroom door open. He's also clearly pissed. The ride back to the house was deathly silent. Well, not silent. His sad boy music made a return, and this time with Broken Social Scene. You couldn't ask him to change the music without starting another argument. Even the kids were quiet, beyond asking several times if you were okay, which you assured them you were. Obviously a lie.

As Cillian walks around the room, you reach for your midi white beachy dress and look down at your knee in horror. It's no longer just a bruise, but a gash that is slowly oozing blood. Not as much as before, but still. It looks nasty underneath the shirt Cillian used from his car as a makeshift bandage.

He grabs the first aid kit from a shelf and turns around to face you.

"Take off your dress."

"Pardon me?"

"Take off your dress so I can properly clean and bandage the wound," Cillian repeats, his expression serious. You look down at the blood-stained fabric as if you needed any more confirmation. "Off, C'mon."

You stiffen at his demand, your body going completely rigid at his bossy tone. You watch him stride into his bathroom. He pushes aside some stuff on the counter and tosses the kit onto the counter.

Okay, yeah. He has good reason to be upset. You had no business jumping from that rock.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he'd said before, right when he went to get you. And now you can see the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You can hear him shuffle in the bathroom while you remove your dress. You still have your swimsuit on underneath, but you feel exposed without the extra layer. Maybe the pain is catching up to you or the fact that you have upset him or that he's waiting for you in the bathroom to take care of you but tears sting your eyes as you try to process the situation. You take a moment to collect yourself. You cannot go in there like this, he cannot see you this vulnerable. At least, not now.

He's braced against the counter, head hung low, when you push open the bathroom door. You nearly back out to give him some space or time to compose himself, but his eyes meet yours and his expression straightens. He clears his throat and then freezes. "I—you're wearing your swimsuit."

"I am. Were you expecting me to change into something else?"

"No," he grumbles, "I mean, nevermind."

He turns back and starts grabbing sterile gauze, his movements slightly jerky. He gestures for you to sit on the counter. "Up."

"I'm not sure I can do that given my—" Before you're done speaking, he scoops you up and sets you on the counter. Your hands are locked around his neck, and his are firmly gripping your waist. They fit perfectly there, like they're made to hold you close.

He reaches behind him, both your faces close together now, and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his neck and onto your thighs. He puts a hand on your uninjured leg, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is going to hurt." You stare at his impossible blue eyes and think to yourself: yes, this is going to hurt.

"Oh, shit shit," you gasp, gripping his forearm. "Holy fuuuck."

"I've got you, breathe," he commands, and you allow yourself to focus on his voice, letting it ground you. The antiseptic burns both your nostrils and knee as he continues to clean the wound, the pain shooting through your leg causing you to clench your teeth.

"I'm sorry," you breathe out.

There's nothing but silence in response.

"I told you multiple times not to go up there," he finally says, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet."

"I know," you whisper, feeling guilty.

"Don't do that again," he commands, his accent thickening with emotion. "You could've hurt yourself even more."

"I know," you repeat, not sure how else to respond.

His head is bowed in concentration as he finishes cleaning the wound, his hands steady despite the anger in his voice. You can see his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly as he works. He applies a little more pressure to the bandage than he should've, and you let out a soft moan. This doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The air in the room seems to shift. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something soften in his gaze before he looks away.

"You're not supposed to like that."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

He's gotten closer to you, your hands somehow made their way to fist his navy blue linen shirt. His body is between your legs, the delicate material of his pants brushing your skin. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't say I mind it either." Your heart races at his proximity, unsure of what to do next.

His hands slide up your thighs, gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's going to kiss you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the right decision to let him.

But now is not the time to be rational about it.

"I'm not gonna stop you," you say quietly, "I wouldn't know how."

His eyes darken, pupils dilating with desire. He doesn't move.

It's like you're both aware of the line you're about to cross, so neither of you moves.

You keep your eyes firmly on his face. His lips inch closer to yours, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. Your body is angled towards his, hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your slightly damp hair, now cold, making you shiver.

He's impossibly hard against you, the material of his pants is thin, and you're aware of every inch of him pressing against your throbbing core.

"And I wouldn’t know how to stop kissing you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He shifts slightly, causing his erection to press even more firmly against you, both letting out a soft moan. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, just kiss me, you thought.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, which is, by the way, open.

"Dad?" You both freeze.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar, offering a sliver of privacy but not enough to shield you from any potential interruptions.

"Yes?" Cillian calls out, trying to sound casual despite the intense moment that was just interrupted. "We're ordering takeout, do you want anything?"

"No, buddy, we're good, thanks," Cillian replies, his voice strained as he tries to keep his composure. You hear the steps retreating down the hallway.

Cillian steps back, and the absence of his body against yours is jarring. It clearly would've been a mistake to take this further, but a mistake that would've felt so fucking good.

"We shouldn't do this."

He clears his throat. "Yeah."

He moves towards the door, his movements tense and purposeful. "I'm gonna—" he says, motioning the door.

"Yeah," you quickly reply, "I got it."

You watch him leave, the air heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires.

a/n: thank you for reading! please share your thoughts with me, let me know if you guys enjoyed it :)

part two

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy angst #cillian murphy fluff #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fic

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aluciahaz · 4 months

Note

Sorry if this isn’t the askbox or not right I never done this before..

If requests are still open and whenever you feel like it of course.

I would like a dom male Reader x bottom Alastor rough smut, where the reader is in an important meeting as he is an overlord or prince of hell which ever you prefer.

And Alastor have been more chaotic lately which is messing something up for the reader and now he have to correct Alastor’s behavior.

Anyway hope you’re doing well today and take care of yourself and of course you can ignore this. Thank you.

RAHH!! im very late, sorry! i havent been feeling like writing in awhile, especially hazbin unfortunately 😭 so i decided to just post my wip i had for this request! i dont think ill ever finish it, so i wanted to post it rather than let it rot lmao, hope you enjoy although its unfinished ❤️

don’t forget your place

alastor x male!reader

includes: crying, gags, bondage

you don’t know what’s gotten into alastor recently.

the two of you sit in a meeting, right beside each other of course, and you watch as other overlords trickle into the modern room.

you didn’t even need to look at them, you could tell which people had arrived just by the sounds of their footsteps alone. each overlord was unique, it wasn’t hard to differentiate them. zestial had this almost spider-like sound when he walks, carmilla’s shoes pierced through the quiet like blades, and alastor—

“what are you thinking about, darling?” he asks, smiling at you with an inquisitive look.

you glance over at your troublesome lover, pursing your lips. “about how you’ve been harming my reputation with some of the statements you say in your radio show,” you tell him honestly, the sound of chairs moving against the pristine floors covering your conversation well enough to not require you to whisper.

“and how you keep killing some of my biggest customers. they’re too afraid to even call anymore.”

“oh, but you could always get more—”

“it’s not about that,” you hiss, your hand clenching alastor’s tightly. his smile freezes, but he’s still smug, looking at you under his hooded eyes.

“it’s about you walking over my image, al. stay in your lane,” you scold him, letting go of his hand as you feel him pull away.

all he does is shrug, clearly unbothered as he leans back in his chair. “i drive wherever gets me to my destination the fastest, my dear. and, it just seems you’re the shortcut.”

your grip on the bottom of the seat in frustration, glaring at alastor in both annoyance and sheer astonishment at his audacity to make such a euphemism. he thinks that he could just tear down your reputation to build up his own? what an outrageous idea!

perhaps you’ve been too kind to him. he thinks you’re some sort of pushover.

you’re already thinking of ways to fix that mistake. so much so, that the meeting seems to pass by like a fly and the fruit of your ideas are right in your hands in just a few seconds, tasting sweeter than honey.

“mmh—hn!” weak static fluctuated between an incessant buzzing to complete silence as you grabbed his ears roughly, tugging them back to reveal his dainty neck, a perfect place for you to latch your lips on, and soon you hear a jump in his voice as your teeth pierces his skin.

there was usually more leniency when it came to intimacy with al. you want him to enjoy it after all, so you let him bark a few insults here and there, mock you a little. whatever makes him comfortable, either way, his mouth usually ends up running out of words to play at the end of his little show of control once he gets overwhelmed, unable to read his script anymore as you drive his brain into an incoherent repeat of ‘please’.

but tonight, you watch him writhe and sob as his mouth is gagged and his body is completely tied to the bed, spread out and on full display as you ram into him, his head tossing and turning into the pillow behind him.

your hands ground him to reality, the sharp pain of your nails and unrelenting grip forcing him to stay somewhat conscious as you use him, showing how much power you have over alastor.

it was incredible to see his silver tongue unable to lacerate the air with insults, the gag upon him doing a great job at keeping him unable to throw jabs at you like you were some target at a range.

instead, all he could do was wail, drool spilling down his chin and making a mess of his dress shirt that you made sure to keep on him just to piss him off. you know how much he likes to keep his clothes in check. it’s part of his well-crafted image, after all.

“are you learning your place now, bambi?” you chuckle, your words cold on his skin, seeping into his body as he shivers at the frost, unable to protect himself from your punishment.

“answer me,” one of your hands leaves his waist, grabbing his chin and yanking him up towards you. a small, feeble whimper leaves his throat as you do so, and his eyes seem to dilate. dilate, out of all things.

“slut,” you spit, chuckling as you see his ears flop down. such a terrifying overlord, reduced to a small little deer in your hands. it was cute, how he looked at you.

it was even cuter when he shakes, so sensitive that he feels the need to twist and turn as you make him cum for the second time, his body jolting as your hand runs over his cock, still hard underneath your palm.

usually, you’d expect a sharp glare or some sort of defiance to your name-calling, but all you see is his eyes rolling back, his head tilting up as you release his chin.

there are tears that seem to adorn his cheeks like shooting stars in the sky, and babbling that‘s reminiscent of a muffled radio in another room. it was nice, seeing alastor’s breaking like this. watching him fall beneath the weight of his actions, unable to hold them up on his shoulders as they crush him in one fell swoop.

all because of you.

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist @luciferspetduck

#hazbin hotel #dom reader #hazbin hotel x reader #sub hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel dom reader #hazbin hotel alastor #sub alastor #bottom alastor #alastor x reader

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bbunivxrse · 9 months

Text

❥ HATED HIM - SATORU GOJO

pairing: - gojo x f!reader contents: you hate gojo, but even so, youre forced to go on a mission with him, which ends badly. for you, anyway. - no warnings js fluff at the end but a bit ooc?? i think??? word count: 1.9k a/n: hi!! ik im late but happy new years!! i wanted to post earlier but i have no idea what to write :sob: if u have any requests pls send i need ideas

you’ve always hated Satoru Gojo. the day you met him you knew you’d never want to be around him. his persistent grossly inflated ego and cocky attitude always had your gears grinding. the way he seemed to somehow develop a crush on you despite you never saying a single kind or loving word to him is beyond you. he has no shame in trying to flirt with the girl that not only has no interest in him, but also openly hates him. no matter how many people are around he’ll always go out of his way to bother you. everytime you hear him speak you think about how fucking lucky he is to be the strongest, if he wasn’t you would’ve taken care of him and his attitude already.

you weren’t shy to make this opinion known, even straight to his face. all your classmates seemed to understand and even agree, everyone except for gojo of course, who always persisted that he is the ‘best person ever’ and that ‘nobody can hate him’. your friend utahime seemed to really enjoy listening to your long, harsh rants about him, reminding you that your not alone in your detest for gojo.

Today you had what seemed to be a start to a good morning, until you were informed you had a mission to attend to the very next day. that news alone obviously wasn’t enough to ruin your mood, you had missions all the time, it was normal. this mission however was not only a special grade curse, but it was also assigned to just you and gojo.

“man, that sucks..” shoko sighs, patting your shoulder. after explaining and ranting about your situation you felt a bit better, but still didn’t change the fact that you’d be out overnight, possibly for two nights, alone on a mission with gojo. you groan in frustration just at the thought. “don’t you ever think you’re being a bit hard on him, y/n?” his best friend piped up. he just happened to be passing by and eavesdropping on your conversation. “well of course you’d defend him.” you roll your eyes as suguru laughs.

to be completely fair, maybe you were a bit harsh when it came to gojo. but that didn’t matter to you when all he does is put his face in your business 24/7, attempting to flirt while simultaneously pushing your buttons whenever he gets the chance and only laying off when you get annoyed enough to actually scare him away. “i wouldn’t have to hate him so much if he wasn’t so annoying.” you shrug, feeling completely justified in every word you’ve said. suguru nods understandingly as he considers your words. he does know that gojo can most certainly be a handful.

the day of the mission arrives and you’re up early, getting ready and packing your bag to set out on the mission. with your extra time you decide to keep yourself calm by reading a book you’ve had on your to-read list for waaayyy too long. it was nice until you realized gojo was late, then you were back in your grumpy mood waiting on him. “hi y/n!! are you ready for our honeymoon together??” gojo waves enthusiastically, his loud voice was already starting to irritate you, along with him unapologetically showing up an hour after the established meeting time. “you’re late.”

“i had stuff to do.” gojo frowned, but you know all too well he had absolutely nothing to do. the day is gonna be too long to keep arguing with him, so you decide to be the bigger person for once and begin to make your way to your next destination without saying a word to him. “wooow! you’re not even gonna say anything to me?? i’m so hurt!!” gojo whines behind you, already managing to piss you off at the beginning of your mission.

the place you were headed to was a building that was rumored to be haunted. supposedly it had been involved in a lot of accidents in the area. people last being seen near the house before going missing, car accidents in the area, reported “weird activity” inside the house. it was enough to have the curse inside deemed a special grade, which meant the two of you needed to focus on this mission and you know gojo isn’t gonna do that.

after a long ass train ride that felt like it was gonna go on forever because of gojos endless talking, the two of you made it to the house. it was much older than all other houses on the street and was visibly abandoned and overgrown. the immense amount of cursed energy coming from inside was a bit intimidating, even for you, and made you a bit tense, which did not go unnoticed. “you really scared of some little house?” gojo teased, which took you out of your train of thought. “obviously i’m not scared. i’ve dealt with worse.” you lied through your teeth. of course you’re not gonna reveal that you’re actually trembling in your boots.

“that things no match for me! since you’re soooo scared, why don’t you sit this one out and let me take care of it, princess? i'd hate to see your pretty face get hurt,” truth is, gojo can tell just as well as you can that this curse was no joke. he knows you’re powerful and could probably handle something like this on your own but he doesn’t wanna risk it. seeing you get messed up by a curse while he’s there to protect you, he’d never forgive himself! “no thanks.” you reply dryly, walking up to the house and heading inside.

the presence of the curse inhabiting that house was just as, if not even more intense than it was from the outside and honestly unlike anything you’d dealt with at that point, which is probably why it was able to catch you off guard. you hadn’t even been able to get a glimpse of it before it had you on the floor, across the room and unconscious.

waking up, it felt like you had been asleep for decades. at first you were happy to be in your bed, until you realized it wasn’t your bed. your head hurt like hell, it felt like your brain was too big for your skull and wanted to break free. the lights in the room blaring in your eyes didn’t help. you tried to sit up, suddenly feeling waves of pain along your weakened body. when you were able to sit up, the one person you were hoping not to see was looking out the window and had been alerted by the sound of bedsheets shuffling.

“hi y/n!!!” he yells excitedly, getting up and bringing his chair to sit beside you. “i totally saved your ass! that cursed fucked you up bad!” gojo laughs at you. under normal circumstances you wouldn’t be amused by his antics, but especially now it was even more upsetting. for one, you were embarrassed. the man you hate most watched you get absolutely folded by some random ass curse. and on top of that he had to save you and bring you back afterwards. the realization made your blood run cold and you couldn’t even be bothered to look him in the eyes. you hear him lightly sigh in response to your silence.

The switch in his demeanor was sudden when he can visually see on your face how hurt you are, physically and emotionally. “i know your head probably hurts. i got you some advil.” you finally look up at gojo, before looking down at the bedside table to see a little bottle of advil and a glass of water. “the water had ice in it but.. it melted.” as you graciously take the advil and gulp down the water like you hadn’t drank for days, you think about the amount of time that must’ve passed, evident by the pinkish hue of the sky and the bright orange sunlight shining through the window and onto the floor.

after finishing the glass of water and setting it down you sat in silence, your lightly bandaged arms lying in from of you. you decide to appreciate the silence, as normally gojo would be laughing and teasing to no end. and after a catastrophic mission like this? being knocked cold out for hours? you thought you wouldn’t hear the end of it from him, but surprisingly you hadn’t heard a word. “is the advil working?”

“it hasn’t even been 10 minutes.” you hiss at him, instantly missing the peace and quiet. you take a quick look at gojo, noticing the unusual darkness of his bright blue eyes and the way his hair is somehow messier than it usually is. he almost looks like he’s been through war even though you know that isn’t the case. he probably made light work out of that damn curse. “remember what i said..? about not forgiving myself if i couldnt protect you?”

"you did not say that." you actually look up at him but his gaze is focused on the floor in front of him. “i know you hate me and all but.. i really care for you, y’know? you had me kinda worried.” he somewhat laughs to himself but not the same way he usually does.

“sorry.” is all you can whisper out. “thank you for saving me, though.” as much as you want to be nice to him for saving your life, the way his demeanor changes when your gratefulness strokes his ego makes you regret it. “yeah, i know. i’m awesome. don’t i deserve a reward?” gojos eyes light up again, continuously making you regret being kind to him for once. but at the same time, considering his sweeter words to you, you’ll humor him. “what kinda reward?” you roll your eyes playfully. “hmmmm… i think i deserveee….” gojo pretends to think hard, putting his hand to his chin. “a kiss!!” the slight smile on your face instantly melts, which in turn causes gojo to start pouting and whining like a child. “don’t look at me like that! i saved your life and patched you up and all i’m asking for is a kiss!!”

“i don’t want to kiss you.” gojos jaw drops as he genuinely looks shocked by your blatant statement. “what!? how could you not want to kiss me?! you owe me your life!!” all you can do is sigh and cross your arms, which leads gojo to using a different avenue to convince you. “pleeeaseee baby? one kiss won’t hurt…” the look he gave you can only be described as the same one a sad kitten would give you when they want you to give them food. his face almost makes you feel bad for your mean words since he looks like he’ll genuinely cry if you don’t agree to kiss him. “fine. one kiss. hurry up.” gojos face lights up in a way you’ve never seen before, a big smile across his face as he practically lounges onto the bed beside you. he swiftly places a hand around your waist while the other picks up your legs and places them on his lap. “can you slow down! i said one kiss. not whatever this is.”

“it will be one kiss! or maybe two? i don’t care, i’ve been waiting for this!” before you can say a word, he already has his lips on yours. you couldn’t deny that he was a good kisser. suddenly everything and everyone melted away and it was just the two of you, your hands on his chest and his around your waist. you kinda wanted it to stay like this, in a weird twisted way you never thought you’d feel with a man like gojo.

i think this would make the perfect prequel to a cute fic if anyone wants a pt 2!! js lmk!!

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 1 year

Note

Well since my request was rejected, could I alter it a bit ^^? Aged up Jamil, Duece Jade and Azul at theyre honeymoon 🥰? Where would they take their wife and maybe bit of theure reaction that theyre finally married ? ( im telling this as a joke but: TECHNICLY they alredy had 2 birthdays XD making them duece 18 and rest 19 )

Azul Ashengrotto:

He will definitely be working part of the time. A little frustrating to have to constantly pull your husband away from his work but he at least brought you to a place he knew you were excited to be. He’s the type to plan out the event beforehand so he has a list of things that you can do, with him and alone, so that you're never left wanting. He does at least turn off his devices the last day you're there and gives you his total attention, admitting that since you were so patient with him he was at your complete mercy.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce is just fine having you choose the honeymoon location, though when he thinks of honeymoons he does imagine tropical places where it’s warm and sandy. He’s content as long as there’s some nice views along the way and you two can go on long magical wheel rides together, maybe even off to some romantic destination for a picnic he could set up. As long as you’re together Deuce knows it’ll be a nice relaxing vacation but he does dote over you despite you also telling him to relax, promising that there’ll be plenty of time to be his perfect little househusband self once you were home.

Jade Leech:

Jade is quite easy to please with your honeymoon, just take him somewhere solitary up in the mountains where the flora and fauna were wildly varied. It would be like having a daily adventure, exploring the trails together, danger potentially lurking around every corner. He does make a joke about you being able to take him out of the picture to inherit some Leech family money and he’s delighted to hear that people on the surface call it “swimmin’ with the fishes”. You do always manage to have fun with Jade as he has a natural penchant for sniffing out opportunities, but you do make a stand on eating the mushroom gruel that he kept trying to serve you for dinner.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is so, so grateful for the break. You had even let him pick the destination since it was such a rarity for him to get away, and it took him some time to settle on where he wanted to go. He selected an area with rare delicacies and a lot of good food; he had wanted to expand his palate for some time and he now had ample opportunity. You loved listening to him give his opinions over all the meals you were trying, and especially loved the way he collected spices like they were limited edition perfumes, carefully setting them in his bag to bring back home. You looked forward to the yummy meals he would make when you were home, but for now, you had to focus on the busy itinerary set by your voracious husband.

#Disney TWST #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Azul Ashengrotto #Deuce Spade #Jamil Viper #Jade Leech #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Deuce Spade x Reader #Jade Leech x Reader #Jamil Viper x Reader

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grimreaperschild · 1 year

Text

happy birthday

pairings: ooc! soft Wednesday x fem reader

summary: birthdays have never been your thing often sneaking away from your own party to think

warnings: use of drugs, mention of abusive households, angst?, comfort

a/n: got a bit carried away kinda like this one tho :) hope you enjoy ❤️

The “surprise” party had been in full swing for about an hour now and it seemed that everyone but you was enjoying themselves, enid and ajax had jumped in the pool wednesday had disappeared to god knows where, and then there was your parents mingling with there friends they’d invited, pushing myself off the living room wall i trudge to my room.

as i lay out everything in my tray i hear a soft knock on my door “come in it’s unlocked” i yell to be heard over the loud music outside, wednesday steps into my room closing the door behind her with a click “i’ve been looking for you” i roll my eyes at her signature glare “well you found me” she hums and steps closer “you know you really shouldn’t smoke that stuff it’s bad for you” pausing as i bring the joint up to my lips to wet the paper “you gonna lecture me addams or are you gonna keep the birthday girl company” not waiting for a response i stand and make my way to the front door both of us slipping out unnoticed.

the walk through the forest was completed in comfortable silence and i reach my destination in record time as i sit on the grass wednesday settles in next to me “beautiful isnt it” i ask looking at the view of field after felid sprawled out below us “found it after me and dad had an argument when i was 10 been my smoke spot since i hit 14” i bring the joint to my lips and light it enjoying the feeling of smoke hitting my lungs “what about you got any cool spots near home i don’t know about” she thinks for a second and the ghost of a smile crosses her face “there’s an old secluded graveyard a short hike from my house not even my mother knows about it i go there when i don’t want to be bothered reading by pugsley” she bumps shoulders with me and i turn my head “thank you, you know for coming im usually alone on my birthday it’s nice to have you here” she reaches up to caress my cheek “you’ll never be alone mi amor, but didn’t we just sneak away from a party thrown in your name” she quirks an eyebrow at me and i chew on my bottom lip thinking about how to explain it all.

i take a breath and it all comes flowing out “and out of everyone there not once person has noticed, not today or any of the other years i’ve left, those parties aren’t for me weds god even my cake says 16 and i turn 18 this year” i run my hands through my (h/c) hair and let out another exasperated sigh “it’s always been rocky with my parents, they always expect more from me and then i ended up at nevermore and it was like a new beginning yeah they would send me letters telling me how upset with my grades they are but atleast i wasn’t going to bed bleeding anymore” i drop my head onto her shoulder not wanting to continue in fear of crying.

wednesday reaches into her pocket and brings out a little necklace with a “W” on it “i know your not one for big gifts or anything but i wanted to show you how much i care” i try to say something and she cuts me off with her lips on mine i sigh into the softness and pull her closer by her jacket “i meant what i said (y/n) your never going to be alone again not now i’ve got you and this just means you’ll take a part of me wherever you go” resting my forehead against hers i smile “thank you weds honestly this has been the best birthday in a while” she pulls away and stands holding her hand out “dance with me pretty girl”

i oblige throwing the butt of my joint in the grass as i stand it hits me and i stumble slightly into wednesdays waiting arms giggling she puts the necklace around my neck and attempts to spin me but being much shorter than me it fails causing more giggling “who would have thought you couldn’t spin someone nes” a blush creeps up her neck and she grumbles out “not my fault your a giant” i giggle at the statement “it’s getting late we should make our way back” she nods reluctantly knowing neither of us want to leave the bubble we created, the walk back was filled with mindless chatter reaching the back gate she turns to me “you seriously think there are pots of gold at the bottom of a rainbow” her eyebrows raised in amusement “personally i think it’s weird as shit that you DONT believe that addams, honestly your supposed to be the smart one” i smile reaching over her to unlatch the gate “ready to go back in?” she looks up and places a kiss to my jaw “i feel like i should be asking you that question but yeah i’m ready” i smile and push the gate open and am met with the screams of people in the pool “oh and for the record i still think your weird as shit” wednesday looks at me as a smile graces her face “the feeling is incredibly mutual amour”

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #hurt/comfort

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theraddestfemalive · 3 months

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im not even a trans woman and i look so fucking horrendous and ugly. im neurodivergent as fuck so i don’t know how to take care of my body properly without forgetting or my interests getting in the way. At the age i was supposed to be my prettiest, my shitty dominican dna cursed me with an ugly mustache, slow metabolism, facial acne, and like the ugliest boobs I’ve ever seen. I fucking despise my dad for putting me through so much for that alone, and he doesn’t even come around to help. He avoids paying my mom child support (which i need btw because im ND and I want to get lessons and actual good clothing)

In all due seriousness, all of the other girls my age are literally in normal schools and passing their shit with flying colors while developing a few talents. I can’t even complete regular tasks and im in a school full of weirdos and a boy that i used to like but stopped after finding out how fucking ugly he looked and how much he objectified me (he had a p0rn addiction, had a b3lly fetish, and is basically the corniest dude on earth, even my mom doesn’t like him)

I hate my heritage for giving me such a disadvantage, not only genetic wise, but also economically. (my dad was an immigrant, and my mom’s parents were too.)

It’s just every time i try to be better i look r3t4rd3d as fuck and i feel as if god as a whole entity is trying to hold me back from achieving my goals because I’m destined to be inferior to everyone

I don’t know how people (ESPECIALLY WHITE PRIVILEGED REGULAR PEOPLE) always argue that they’re a certain complicated form of a “gender” trying to find reasons to be mad when there’s an obvious fact that im literally the ugliest girl in the world.

If there’s a god, why did they give me this ugly body as a teenage girl? Eh? Did my stupid personality completely align with how im supposed to look? Why do all of the radfems and non radfems have pretty bodies but im just a slab of fucking cells? I literally got made fun of in a discord server for the way my boobs look and every other girl gets to be pretty with perfectly round and perky ones.

anyways, sorry for the vent. I’m just so frustrated with how I look and how normal every kid around me is. If I wasn’t so ugly, I wouldn’t be attracting the weirdest fucking creeps ever.

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shoot-of-corruption · 6 days

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Blog Announcement

Hi there my lovelies! It is a rare guest, Ria here :D

I put on an Oblivion Let's Play to hold my blood pressure low while formulating this announcement, so you better settle down with me xD

I would like to announce here how I will deal with my main blog and all my side blogs on tumblr from now on.

As most of you know, I am working a full time job in retail, so my nervous costume tends to be a tiny bit thin after around 9,5hrs of shift. I am happy to announce to you all that my time as a worker in retail is finally a finite one. If everything works out right, I won't just be able to start a homeoffice job by next year, but also live at a completely different place and city. Sadly there is still a good while of wait ahead of me until then and a lot of things are unsure as of yet. But I will do my best to get to that destination, because right now everything is pretty much murdering me.

What does that mean for my blogs? I have been on Hiatus for a long while, on and off, over years. And yet I have always returned here, more or less satisfied or happy with my performance or the RPC.

From this day on I will treat myself better about being able to come here and also, I will not spread myself thin anymore. I will transform Mariku into an Ask- and Art-Blog. Interactions are always welcome, on and off Anon, as well as dash commentary or writing pieces and updates of myself. You can tag Mariku and me in everything, the followed tags will stay the same, I will just update a few things on my BIO in the next days etc. [maybe I'll finally force myself to make a card, should the mobile pages not work anymore].

Things that will for the close future not be done on my blogs:

RP-Threads: no matter if long, short, or anything. I am torturing myself, because I cannot say no to new thread ideas and the moment I really get invested into plots, threads, ideas or anything alike, my partners tend to just leave and let me drop like a hot potato and I honestly neither need nor want that hate in my life anymore.

Anon-Hate: Will NOT be displayed on this channel. I will keep my Inbox with anonymous messages on, but every piece of disgusting hate will be immediately plucked out of the screen and burned in a bonfire. You will not get a stage here and you can be assured, that I will piss and shit on your disgusting hatred and then laugh about it for the coming week, because you are the most pathetic thing that I had the displeasure of even having to lay a momentary glance on <3

RPC/personal Drama: I will ignore drama and strictly remove myself from it. I will not be part or target of any hatred, impulsive meanness and/or random bouts of radical opinions. If you don't feel seen/represented in my opinions, turn around and find a place you fit into, but leave me and my muses alone.

Things that will be done on this blog (and partly my side blogs):

Ask-Memes: Of any kind. Ask-Plots, random asks, symbol ask memes, color memes, background memes, AU-memes and YES, also art related asks.

Open Commissions: I will open art commissions again after I had a bit more training on my tablet, for everybody, who wants to commission art. They will likely be limited and they may also for training reasons only be for free for training, thus included in art memes, but I will open paid commissions eventually again, definitely this year. I cannot tell you details, yet, but keep your eyes peeled ;)

IMs and Mun related things: You are definitely allowed to write IMs and ask me questions!! I am here to have fun as all of us are, so if your fun includes coming into my IMs and leaving a cat meme each day or send me weird asks, I am all here for it!! All of this might sound very dickish of me, but I just feel like I get too emotionally hurt and immersed and I want to protect me from bad feelings and you from my wrath xDDD

Thank you for reading all of this and I hope all of us can stick to those ground rules (for now) - we will get on peachy! If the fact that I am not RPing (for now) on here is breaking you beyond compare, I do own a Discord and I am usually willing to share it. Please contact me on here before adding me, so I know who exactly is adding me on there, otherwise, I might not accept your request. Discord: sangnoire

I will warn you though, that I will be very selective with accepting RPs and partners on there still and that any unwillingness to accept that will be met with... a uno-reverse card reaction x'D

#ooc #announcement #blog announcement #ria rants #mun speaks #mun talks #for the day crowd #ilu guys #sorry for having been away so long #long post

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yaksha-lover · 1 year

Note

HI HI HELLO HI IM!!! FROTHING!! AT!!! THE!! MOUTH!!!!! IVE HEARD OF A DDLC TYPE DEAL WITH MALLEUS BEFORE BUT IVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE TALK ABOUT IT ANY DEEPER THAN LIKE AS A CONCEPT. DO YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS??? ANY THOUGHTS FOR THE POOR AND THE NEEDY????? I WANT TO HEAR ALL ABOUT IT I LOVE HORROR AND OBSESSION AND EXISTENTIALISM THERES SO!!! MUCH!!! TO!! UNPACK!!!!

YESS so these thoughts are going to be very scattered because I haven’t fully thought it out, but I wanted to share them anyway!!

Ok, so you know how in ddlc, part of Monika’s anguish is the fact that she’s not even an option for the player to choose. I feel like that works well with the whole ‘Malleus doesn’t know twst isn’t a dating sim’ thing. Like, imagine Malleus starting to become aware and realizing that the only place it’s even possible for him to get genuine love and connection is with the player. Except - twst is only a visual novel.

No matter how much he tries to be extra kind to the player, to get them to notice him - none of it matters, because there is no option for him to be loved back. The player is constricted by the few and far between dialogue options, and barely any interactions with him compared to say, Ace and Deuce.

He tries to be patient, but more and more it eats away at him. He needs to be chosen by the player, he can’t accept being alone anymore when an opportunity is right in front of him. At first he’s satisfied by appearing more in the other books, by becoming the player’s friend.

Then, he’s entirely left behind in book 6. Again, he isn’t an option. Well, he doesn’t care. He’ll make himself an option. The next time you log in, a new event seems to have started.

It’s a dating sim event! At first, you’re super excited that they decided to do some fan service. Then, strange things begin happening. You try to complete Leona’s route, but after pausing midway, you log back in and suddenly, he isn’t an option anymore. It’s strange, but there is a notice of a bug in the game, so you dismiss it. The only routes left are Vil and Malleus, so you decide to go with Vil. Except, the button won’t press. Every time you try to choose Vil, Malleus’ route automatically starts. Eventually, you give up and close the game, tired of all the bugs.

Meanwhile, Malleus is practically heartbroken. He’s never had the option to even try and talk to you like he’s wanted to all this time. He thought you felt the same, that your friendship and all the times he came to Ramshackle meant something. Apparently not. Apparently, even if he is a choice, you’ll choose the others again and again.

It isn’t right. Why can’t he ever be your choice? Don’t you realize, you’re the only one who can love him?

He knows he’s only a character and that you’re real, but it shouldn’t matter. His feelings for you are real too. Is he destined to be doomed to loneliness, locked in this short frame of story where he’s been programmed to be the outcast?

He was practically designed by the creators to love you, and yet, no matter what he does, you seem unreachable.

The next time you log in, Malleus is waiting for you. Not in an event and not in the main story, but as the only thing left in the app. He stands on the home screen, having deleted all the other buttons on the page. He starts talking to you, telling you that he’s known the whole time that he’s a character and you’re the player of a game. That it doesn’t matter, because you’re real to him. Even if you aren’t exactly Yuu, it’s always been you, behind the screen. He’s willing to make his plea to you, if only you’ll listen.

Side note, I imagine he’d have a similar breakthrough to Monika if you talked to him enough about how what he’s doing is wrong. Even if he tries to remember that Lilia, Silver, and Sebek are only game files, he can’t help but love them anyway, and wouldn’t want them to disappear.

He’d also realize that it’s wrong to force you to love him, no matter how much he wants it. He knows that’s not genuine love, and that it wouldn’t feel good for him either because he wants someone to love and accept him.

All in all, would probably reset things himself once he’s reasoned with, might even delete himself from the game once he sees what he’s done.

#tw: yandere #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #malleyuu #twst #twisted wonderland

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thedeadpoetprose · 9 months

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I accidentally fell in love with a man. He's awkward and for some reason, guarded. He's incredibly silly yet serious. Dispite it being 2023 he smokes a pipe, dresses on occasion quite impeccabley, and talks of wine so segaciously in a way that makes it taste all the more richer. He's eccentric in a way that is indearing, and I think I'd quite like to be eccentric and strange alongside him.

We don't just drink wine together, he is the wine, warming the blood, flushing my cheeks, adding lustre to an evening, getting me drunk and making me feel.

Truth be told, I am an old romantic. I don't share things I write but here I am. I never had myself down as a damsel in distress, I always do things for myself, but as my world crumbles around me, for the first time in my life I want to be saved and he makes me feel safe. I'd willfully lay myself down for him completely and give myself over to his mercy in any way he wanted. Walk into his sea, succumb to his tide, be washed away in his abyss. It would feel less like a woman drowning, and more like a sinking ship settling in it's destined resting place.

That scares me. It does so because Im allowing myself to be vulnerable. As I pour my entire self into this letter I know no aberrant verbosity will change anything. I wish that one day whomever you do find looks at you with the same adoration and awe at your beauty that I do, you deserve that. And if you ever do feel alone or not good enough, not that it's much, but you are always an immortal, devine veneration to me.

I'll never be ready to hear your indifference, but In doing so maybe it will finally sting enough that I could cry it out and purge everything once and for all, and be at peace whilst I sit amongst the mire. I cling to hopes that it wouldn't be that way, but I know hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have. Damn you, spoilt creature, but just know I do not resent you for it. I never could. Now, tell me, is that not just the worst thing you ever heard?

#love #love letters #unrequited love #love letter: my true feelings #unsent letters #unsent love letters #declaration of love #spilled thoughts #my writing #spilled ink #spilled words #feelings #writing #poetry #spilled poetry #original poem

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bubblestopia · 2 years

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an escape from her own mind [Aemond Targaryen AU!]

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

summary: a silver boy that seeks company to release his own nightmares that follow him even in the lightest places crushes into a heavy reader that seeks alone time in her own world of fantasies.

word count: 1.159

A/N: please don't be too harsh on judging it, this is my first story that I ever published and im still learning so be patient with me. reblogs and comments are grateful appreciated, I am always open to new ideas and suggestions.

this is a work of AU! fiction utilising characters from HBO’s House Of The Dragon series.

The library that was usually empty or with just a few customers is now full, with no place for her to sit and enjoy the morning coffee and the romance book she chose to entertain herself. Walking by the long corridor destined for wooden tables and chairs hoping to find a spot, preferably a quiet and secluded one from the crowd, she starts rethinking her decision on coming to the library in the season of exams where she deeply knows that the students prefer coming here to study in groups or alone. With no chances of finding a free chair she walks by the tall bookshelves full of every kind of story she could possibly think of, “the doors to escape reality” as she likes to call them. The very last corner of the library is the perfect spot to just sit down on the old carpet and make herself disappear in her own world of princesses and knights in shinning armour.

Time had passed, half of her coffee is finished and she still can’t take her eyes and mind from the book that is currently keeping her captive, but that will change when steps are heard approaching the corner that the girl had occupied.

The silver hair boy sits down opposite of her without any word. Thinking that now she doesn’t have the silent corner only for her, looks suspicious at him. “No space left in the other part” raspy voice admits and she finally takes a better look at the man. Long silver hair that could take a breath away, but the most intriguing part of him was his eyepatch, revealing one blue eye that she can not read, she can’t find any emotion that holds it, nothing, its like the dessert took over the ocean. “Its rude to stare, especially to people you don’t know”, realising what she was doing, her cheeks turn a bright red and she holds the book in front of her to cover the embarrassment that she had to face.

“Why would you read that kind of stuff? Its full of lies and doesn’t teach you anything” With no warning he spits out the words with an incredible disgust for the book.

“A book doesn’t have to be particularly meant to teach you something for you to learn from it, and it gives me a little bit of hope on this cruel world we have to live without a way of saying”

He knows, he knows this more than anyone and his missing eye is the proof of his endures and pains.

“You should teach me about your ways, I find fascinating the way you can stay in a little corner and enjoy your mind and imagination”

“Why would I do that more exactly, what comes out of this for me? And more important I don’t even know you, you are a complete stranger that just happened to sit in the same corner as me.”

“Aemond Targaryen’s the name, now we are not strangers” he showed a little bit of smirk hoping the girl wouldn’t notice it. “And as I can see in those glittery eyes of yours, you have too many questions that occupies your pretty mind, it would be my pleasure to answer them all for you and enlighten your desires of knowing what’s behind my eyepatch”

She’s a reader, she has questions, lots of questions that kills her mind every second she spends with him. She feels the danger that she could get herself into but ignores it and accept his deal not knowing how she can change her own perspective of life after the chitchat with the silver boy. “I am allowed to ask one question after one chapter finished” was the last condition she wanted to make.

““I hope you find someone you can't live without.I really do. And I hope you never have to know what it's like to have to try and live without them.”” He looks at her reading the chapters, the way her face relaxes, the way her eyes shine brighter than ever, the way her soft voice that is full of hope and happiness, he feels like believing her, believing that there is a happy ending, not because of the silly book but only the way she reads the paragraphs with her heart on the table. But he also knows that letting his guard down will only bring monsters in his life. Without releasing he find himself not listening to her anymore, he is just mesmerised of her, his thoughts stop when she clears her voice to get his attention, excited that is time for the first question. She knows she can’t directly ask about the eyepatch, she knows he will close himself, so the only question on her mind had to be spoken.

“What exactly are you doing in a library, in the dusty corner to be more precise?”. He takes a little of his time to think for a proper answer “I was looking for a book with greek gods, and that section is right over here” he points at the shelves behind him that holds the exact books he is searching for. “But why did you care to sit on the floor with no book in hands?” “One question per chapter, remember sweet girl?” He smirks, a devilish smirk that can tell that he is right and you are wrong, oh but how much she hates that smirk. She just wants to erase it and ask away her mental list of question, but a deal is a deal.

She just lost count of how many chapters she read and how many question she asked, but none about his missing eye. She didn’t found any courage to ask the trouble question. Without a warning the library clock rings and indicates that is almost noon. She looks at her finished cup of coffee and then at the silver boy. “I think it’s time to end this little book club” He chuckles at her nickname for the thing that was going for the past hour “You may be right, although you gotta tell me when the next session will be” He knows he still wants to spend time with her, he knows she starts being the light for him “Why would I want to see you again?” “Because I know you still have questions, and you will eat yourself alive if you don’t answer them” He was right, he knew it but now seeing her pretty face thinking to find a solution for this problem, makes his ego go even higher if it was possible.

“I will buy you the next coffee” she stayed a little to think for all the bad possibilities but didn’t found one, and a free coffee sounds very tempting, so she accepted “Deal” with a small smirk on both of their faces they left the dusty corner that now holds a part of history and future.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #aemond imagine

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f0r3v3rm0r3 · 1 year

Text

To love

Just some gojo fluff i wrote an year ago, it's a lot different from my old writing but I deemed it appropriate for the time the jjk fandom is going through..

____________________________________________

The autumn wind flows past us on the withering hill pushing stray hair on my face. I let out a tired sigh and lay down next to my lover, fixing my lavender sundress.

gojo rolls over to me and brushes the hair off my face, leaning over to hold my hand, as gently as a feather.

I pluck out a flower amongst the weeds, tuck it in his hair, and stare lovingly at him, smiling ever so slightly.

After a moment of silence, I mutter, “I'm tired Satoro,”

Gojo touches my face and answers,” I know, my love.’’ he says while stroking my cheek with uttermost care, so light as if I might break completely if used an ounce more force.

I lean in closer so our foreheads touch, he smells of sandalwood, a little bit of musk, and a slight huff of earthiness. His scent is so faint, you only get a taste of it if you're up close.

“Can I give you a raw truth?” I say, closing my eyes.

“Go ahead” he replies, still stroking my cheek.

“I'm like a ship lost at sea without you,” I say, pausing.

“I don't understand what you mean-” he looks at me with a confused glaze.

“Okay I should have worded it better- im sorry forget I said that,” I say sitting up. Gojo gets up with me and holds my hand again, tugging me closer. “Nono I wanna know what you meant,” he says, getting close to my face again.

“Okay umm, you know how ships, when they sail always have a purpose? A voyage for discovery, enjoyment, resources, and whatnot?” I say.

He nods his head, interested in what I'm saying.

''well without you, I've been a ship lost at sea, without any true meaning, no drive for life, just sailing on with the currents just for the sake of it.'' I say, pausing to take a breath.” and now that I have you. It's like the ship is going to a destination, it has a way, and it's sailing with its own winds, I'm more me than I've ever been. So thank you, Gojo Satoro. Thank you for leading me to life.” I finished off with a smile.

Gojo stares at me with parted lips and sad eyes. “Uh- did- did I say something to upset you?-’’ I say now worried. ”no i- Uhm..” he babbles while looking away, unable to finish his sentence. I have never seen Satoro shaken like this, he always has a witty reply. Concerned I pull his hands close to my chest while tightening my grip on them.”Satoro what's wrong?”

Gojo finally meets my glaze and opens his mouth “love..you know I'm not real, right?” he says with a broken heart, his words trembling at the word “real”

“What? Of course, you're real! What do you mean??” I say while staring at him with hurt eyes and a tightening grip on his hands.

”sweetheart you need to calm down,” he says as he attempts to calm my nerves by rubbing my knuckles and softening his gaze.

“Nononono Satoro your real,” I say holding his shoulders. The look in his eyes is unbearable, it's like with every word I'm saying now is tearing his heart apart, so helpless, completely defeated.

"No, you're just messing with me stop giving me that look Satoro, it's too convincing, "I say closing my eyes and holding my face in my hands. "This is a cruel joke," I say.

“I think it's time you wake up, my love" he whispers while planting a kiss on my hands covering my face.

That's the last thing I feel before I fall backward, but I never meet the ground. I just. Keep falling.

I bolt up and open my eyes and try to hold onto him again but,

I'm in my room.

Alone.

He's not here, he never will be.

Because he's not real

And I am once again a ship lost at sea.

#jjk x reader #jjk #jjk leaks #jjk fic #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #satosugu #gojou satoru x reader #satoro

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frombloodandfire · 1 year

Text

an eternity without me

Summary: y/n, a she-elf who lived on her own, was sent by Saruman to join the Fellowship and learn everything she could so he could win them. Y/n was neutral on the war because after the death of her parents she promised not to help in any war ever. Instead of being completely loyal to Saruman she helps Gandalf to revenge him. She is tired of being the puppet and wants a small adventure, but she ends up feeling something for an elf prince. Little did she know the prince would test her loyalty but he ended up catching feelings too.

Based on the Masquerade episode of Dangerously Yours.

I had forgotten how beautiful Rivendell was because I had so many years to visit it. Well since my family was killed actually. I now know how to live on my own, at least I think so... Im here for a mission, yet I only want the adventure, to make friends, live this life of mine. But I guess I can not try those, what was I even made for?

Suddenly I hear something not really far away

The senses of mine tell me it must be an elf and I know exactly which one. So what if I play a little?

I grab the closest book I find and I try to ran as close to him as I could, when we finally met face to face.

"That's it, get your book back I do not want it, you thought I was an idiot before?! "

"Wait, I do not know you, who-" I didn't let him finish and I quickly ran on my chamber. I did not remember the young prince like that... My memory stops from the day my family died and I can't remember if I saw him again or not since then, but I would say he is quite charming. As I'm ready to go to bed and wait for tomorrow to come, I hear a knock on my door.

"Sorry, I think you gave this to the wrong person, I do not know you and I did not give you this book!"

"Oh, I know Legolas"

"Wait you know me?"

"Well, of course, you are the prettiest elf here, and I was pretty lonely so I thought tonight I'm going to have an adventure!"

"Uhm, thank you Lady... "

"Y/n!"

"Y/n... How did you know I would not ran away with your book? "

"I took the chance, it is not mine anyway! Are you angry?"

"Hahaha, no I am not angry, I can only be grateful!"

We were now the Fellowship of the ring. Even though it was not my intention in first, I feel I belong here. We lost Gandalf though... Gandalf knew everything about me, my plans and my family. We had a small idea of how I could escape Saruman. Turns up I'm destined to destroy this team. We next went to Lothlórien. We spend many nights there, I could not count. But one of them stayed in my mind...

"Look y/n, a shooting star! Did you wish?"

"Oh I did not have time..."

"I know there is something you wish for!"

"Yes..."

"What did you wish for?"

"I was wishing we were two other people, people who did not have to say goodbye..."

"We do not have to, you know."

"Maybe..."

And then we wasted the whole night searching for other shooting stars, as all the others were sleeping. But deep in my mind I knew I started to love him and that would be catastrophic. The wish that I did earlier was absolutely true. I know one day I will say goodbye to him, but I do not want to. I want to spend my eternity with him, just us two. But this is only a stupid dream. I know it will never happen, maybe in another life time.

Time passed and we lost Boromir. Frodo and Sam went alone on Mordor, Merry and Pippin got kidnapped by orcs, thankfully they were saved. Now it's just me Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and Gandalf. He was alive and well. I still had my hopes for our small plan since Saruman never reached for me. When the moon was shining and I was reading a book outside of the castle of Rohan, in a wood, I received an eagle with a letter. Saruman. The plan has changed as it seems, but I could not do that. I just couldn't. I-

And then Legolas found me, like he always do.

"Hey y/n!"

"Hey Legolas..."

"Is there something wrong? You seem skeptical. Why are you all alone here?"

"No, well yes, you see I just wanted some clear air and..."

"What is it?"

"I'm just stressed you know after everything..."

"Well do you want me to make your mood?"

"It's okay Legolas, I will get over it, you can go inside."

"But I want to say something to you, something I have been holding a long time now..."

"Look I can not right now-"

"Y/n I offer you the three things most dear to me, my heart, my homeland and my dream.."

"You are too generous!"

"Y/n you must listen to me, since the very first moment we met I've been completely yours!"

"Please, say no more, there are wars between us, wars that can't be stopped by words."

"You said one night you wished we were two different people, i think you may have that wish y/n."

"What do you mean?"

"When we will be close to victory, they won't need my service any longer..."

"Close to victory?"

"Im going to tell you something tonight y/n...something that will put my life in your hands."

"Then don't tell me, how do you know you can trust me this much..."

"I love you and I believe you love me!"

"You are quite wrong, this has been only and adventure to me."

*This is not true y/n."

"It is true. You smiled at me and I was flattered, it was an adventure for me to feel better."

"You may as well take my heart y/n it's already full of you! You walked in it, the day we met."

"You are a fool Legolas!"

"Isn't anyone who falls in love? You know what you are to me? A reason to believe again, an elf that exists for me, a fine and honest elf."

"Oh my god you are such a child Legolas, take your dream and please go..."

"What is it, what's wrong my dear?"

"You know nothing about me! You know me only 6 months!"

"6 months? Y/n I've known you all my life!"

"All your life?"

"It's true! I've read about you on a thousand stories about one of the most powerful she-elves out there, the old friend of mine... When I've heard beautiful lyrics I thought she would like that, I've talked to flowers about how stunning you are..."

"Oh stop! You must listen to me, I'm not that elf, at least not anymore, I might once was, but not now. You see you were wrong... You can not trust me."

"Are you telling me a person's name that I can't say but we both know send you?"

"What are you saying?"

"You see I have known all along, we talked about you since the first day of the trip."

"And it... It did not make any difference?"

"It did not make any difference. You see I trust you. You came here to betray me, and to betray our country. That is your mission. And yet I'm so sure about your love, that I will trust you with my life and what is far more valuable, Middle Earth."

"I will betray you Legolas, you can still go..."

"If you do, you betray yourself at the same time."

"Yes... Yes I know."

"Then you should know my secret. As we are talking, Isengard is falling and in the end the man who send you will lose. If you stay with us just one more night, tomorrow we will all together destroy him."

"Destroy him?"

"He made many mistakes, he betrayed us. But the greatest of all was sending you here, y/n."

"Why?"

"He guessed I would loved you, but he did not guess you would fall in love with me."

"No... He did not. If I betray you, I betray myself. If a betray him, I betray my safety and my new home. All I want is a new home and peace and that is very dear to me."

"I can give you a new home y/n, so is that dearer that I?"

"No... Not dearer than you."

"Then, would you help us defeat him?"

"Help you? De- defeat him?"

"By telling me his plans! That's the only way we can get him, we will both win and what you seek y/n will be yours!"

"I see..."

"Then you will help me!"

"By giving you any information I may possess of his plans?"

"Yes."

And with that yes, something changed. I felt so betrayed. He made me think I loved him just so he could only get the information he wanted.

"Ah.... You are very clever are you not? Oh I can read you like a book now. You thought I was easily wayed, that you could make me love you, that I will throw up the only chance I have to build a home, for you?"

"That is not the way to look at it y/n!"

"You were not so wise after all... Because you have lost, you hear me? Lost. You guessed wrong, you forgot how hard it is to love as an elf."

"You do not know what you are saying y/n!"

"You never loved me! You knew that I loved you and you used that!"

"Y/n stop talking like a child. Are we playing over wars now?"

"Yes! We are, aren't we? I have my bow Legolas. I advise you to be careful of what you say."

"Well, rather melodramatic are you not? Do you mind if I write down some things?"

"Write down...?"

"I always do that when things get difficult. It helps you understand the situation."

"You can do everything you please Legolas, you have a little time anyway."

"You mean you actually going to kill me?"

"I mean just that!"

"Well go ahead!"

"I do this my own way. Look, you already know my purpose of being here, tell me where Frodo is."

What that was not planned, I did not say that, I could never, this is not me, how do I stop that I can not help it.

"I will not because I simply do not know. You can not kill me, you can not, because you love me. It takes a very brave and a very cold elf to do that y/n, I do not think you can, is it not true? Is this not why you are waiting?"

"It's not true."

"You want my heart, striked with agony! My hands to shake, you want me to please for my life so you can make a generous move to spare me. Sorry y/n I do not think I'm in the mood for prayers tonight."

"You do not think I will do it? That is why you are so brave, you would not be otherwise. You lied to me, you deceived me."

"You tried to deceive me."

"I'm tired of listening to you!"

Saruman has taken over me and I can't do anything. How can I stop this madness...

"You gave me your heart y/n. You would like me to hand it back, whole again, but I will not. You will live a long time y/n, an eternity without me, you will look into the faces of passers by hoping for something that will, for an instant, bring me back to you. You will find moonlight nights strangely empty because, when you call my name through them, there will be no answer. Always your heart will be aching for me and your mind will give you the doubtful constellation that you did...a brave thing."

"You dare to talk of bravery."

"What else do we have to talk about y/n? For me there will never be another elf, but you. But to my heart there is another love that must come before you. Middle Earth. You are so still... Your face is like ice? What are you thinking y/n?"

"What can anything of what you are saying matter? You betrayed me with words. If I fail now, I deserve to die." I truly want to die now, I can not control what I am saying. "You tricked me into loving you." I keep saying things I don't want to. I truly love you Legolas. Please stop this madness.

"Did you forget that you came here for the same thing?"

"I could not betray you. I tried to tell you and you said you already knew. I was as honest as I could."

"You think I wanted to love you? Knowing where you came from and what your mission was? Do you not suppose that every hour we were together I was thinking "she is just pretending"?"

"I was not! I loved you."

"And I loved you so much I let you pretend! Because you brought something to my days, I could not stand the thought of loosing... Listen to your heart y/n... Feel it pounding."

"Your time is up!"

"Then my last words? I love you y/n."

"Are you determined to die with a lie on your lips?"

And the bow sang. I did not mean too, I did not do it, I swear I was controlling it...until I did not.

"I- love you y/n. Since we were little kids... Do you remember it? In my homeland's trees that we were dancing and dancing..."

I came to my senses, Saruman won. Why did I let that happen. I felt a hole on my heart, like you grabbed it and picked it out. There was no heart there anymore, I could not feel anything.

The bow fell to my feet and I also fell to my knees. We was trying to breath but the arrow on his chest did not let him. You know, elves are not meant to die, so when one is about to, it's shocking for everyone including him. I could not do anything. I could not move, speak, do something at all. The one and only love I had has just died, by my hands. It's all my fault. I said yes to that stupid wizard so I could have an adventure. I helped Gandalf so I could have finally, a family. But I screwed up. I lost a new family I could have and the love of my life. I do not deserve to live. I do not deserve anything at all. Maybe that is my purpose. Why was I made for. To die all along.

He looked cold, I ran and hugged him.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Legolas, please, come back to me. It wasn't me, I could never do that to you. How I'm I suppose to live an eternity without you? I can not. I surely can not. I wanted it to be with you, spend our immortal lives together, be forever! Of course I remember that day at your homeland..." Suddenly my tears started to ricochet. "We were both like 50?. I also remember your first words to me. What happens if we die?" Why would you even say that you were too young, too immature. An immortal elf. I just wanted to look at moonlight nights together, call your name to the stars and say you were mine. Tell me why your hands are now cold...I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry I-"

I stopped talking because I couldn't speak anymore. All I could do was sob.

"I've killed so many soldiers, orcs, trolls yet I could never thought I would kill the love of my foolish life."

I felt every cell on my body suddenly turn off. Like it was not there. They say elves can die from pain and grief. This is what I deserve. I want to go and meet him. My home, my love, my soul. My everything.

Y/n died hugging the person she loved but killed moments before. The rest of the Fellowship could not handle the loss of the most powerful and yet cheerful members they had. They mourned them forever, as the right lovers of wrong time and place. Now they will get their eternity together, with no wars to keep them apart.

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