auroracalisto
aurora
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AYO IM NOT EVER ON HERE ANYMORE BUT THANK U FOR TAGGING ME I LOVE IT
The Reunion Scene
Westley x Reader
Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: The Princess Bride
Day 10 Prompt: "It's alright, I'm here now."
Summary: Westley and his love reunite after she shoves him off a cliff, before realizing who he was of course.
Word Count: 1,070
Category: Fluff
A/N: I'm reading the Princess Bride novel and apparently "The Reunion Scene" in the book between Westley and Buttercup is a bit of a running gag (the wikipedia article can give a quick walk through for anyone curious), so I decided to write it! In the book, it's described as a three page scene, which is about the length of this. For anyone unaware of the wild lore behind the novel, I highly recommend a Wikipedia deep dive, it's very entertaining
Tagging @auroracalisto as my fellow Princess Bride fan :) Hope you're having an amazing first semester teaching!!
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I planted both hands against the chest of the man before me and shoved with all my strength, sending him careening over the cliff's edge. He'd killed my dearest love, and now returned to mock me, to dare imply I hadn't loved Westley. Whatever happened to me, I couldn't stand this man a minute longer. I shoved him of the cliff, listening to whatever he screamed as he tumbled to the ground below.
"As... you... wish..."
My heart stopped in my chest at the words of my love coming from the mouth of the Dread Pirate Roberts, tumbling down from the cliff I'd just shoved him off of. My Westley, alive, and falling. It couldn't be possible, but it was.
"Westley!" I cried, immediately rushing to follow him down the cliff. I tried to keep my feet under me, and I made it some of the way before gravity caught up to me and sent me tumbling, head over heels. I landed at the bottom, right next to Westley, who still wore his mask. Our eyes locked, and despite the lingering pain from my fall, I surged forward and ripped the mask from his face.
Staring back at me, by some miracle, was Westley. My farm boy. He looked different, older, stronger, and a little of the soft innocence had gone, but he was here. Not dead, like I'd thought him to be for the last three years. Alive, and now, with me.
"Oh, Westley!" My heart sang as I flung my arms around his neck. Without a second's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. I moved to kiss him, but to my surprise, he pulled back.
"Won't your betrothed take issue with you kissing another man?"
"Humperdinck? Westley, I've already told you, I don't love him-"
"And yet you agreed to marry him. There was not a moment these past years I didn't think of you. But you agreed to give up on me, on love."
Now it was my turn to pull back a little. My brow furrowed, but Westley's expression didn't soften as his piercing blue-gray eyes surveyed me.
"Westley, I thought you dead," I said plainly, still a little shocked at his reaction. "Not a day has gone by that I didn't think of you, to mourn you. My heart was ripped out of my chest the day news came of your death, and I've had to live every day since dealing with the loss of my love.
"And besides that, Westley, I didn't seek the prince out. He found me, and proposed, since he was looking for a wife and found me beautiful. He knows and accepts that there's no love in our union, and he made it very clear that refusing a request from the crown prince would result in death. Death I would gladly accept, if I had ever thought there was any chance of you returning to me from the dead."
A cold fire lit behind Westley's eyes at my words, and when he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low and quiet.
"He's forcing you to marry him?"
I shrugged. "There are worse fates than being Queen, Westley. But none of that matters, not now that I know you live. Nothing matters at all anymore, Westley, so long as we are together."
He sighed, pulling me to him again, resting his forehead against mine. I brought my hand up to his chest, resting it there so I could feel his heartbeat and reassure myself that this was real. Westley was truly here.
"It's alright, I'm here now," he said, reading my mind as his hand came up to gently stroke my cheek. "My ship waits for us not far from here. It's not going to be easy for us... we'll have to go through the fire swamp..."
"We'll make it through," I said, running my hand through the hair at the base of his neck now. I smiled at him, all the love in my heart glowing through. "We'll make it through anything together."
"Then we haven't any time to waste. We must move quickly."
"Wait!"
Westley froze, halfway up from our position on the hill, but he sank back down at my outburst. His eyes never left mine once. His eyebrow quirked slightly in silent question, and I didn't wait to give him his answer.
I rushed forward, kissing Westley hard, like I'd wished for a chance to do every day for the past three years. He immediately returned the kiss, pulling me into his arms and holding me so close to his chest I could feel our hearts beating in sync.
There have been five kisses in the history of the world deemed so passionate, so perfect and full of love, above and beyond anything else that's ever happened. I was no expert on it, but in that moment, I knew this one blew every other kiss before it away.
Neither one of us wanted to pull away, but finally, Westley did. He kept staring into my eyes, gravity trying to pull us back to each other, but with a grimace of regret he leaned further back.
"We really need to keep moving. If we're to stay ahead of your pig fiancé, we have no time to waste."
"Just promise me a million more moments like this, for the rest of our lives."
Westley smiled. "As you wish."
I beamed as Westley pulled me to my feet, and the two of us began heading through the ravine we'd tumbled into and towards the Fire Swamp, hand in hand.
No doubt, the challenges ahead would be dire and terrible beyond imagining. But I knew confidently that we would survive them. My Westley was still in the world, and even better, he was with me. There was no other ending but for the two of us to be happily together.
****************
Everything Taglist: @rosecentury
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Wait ur a teacher? Like a teacher teacher or student teacher or teacher assistant? Also what subject?
teacher teacher. i’m hired on full time! finishing my masters in teaching this december :) it’s in english
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just doing my (not-so) monthly check ins and i saw that i hit 2.4k followers :’) thank you guys <33
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i know school starts back soon for a lot of people so remember the three most important things: drink water, try your best every day (even if your best doesn’t look too good some days), and breathe. you’re gonna do great. you’re gonna make it through the school year. you’ve got this, and i’m so proud of you for making it this far. ♡
#saying the things i wish i had when i was in school#now i’m a teacher???#anyway#<33#aurora’s commentary
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firstly, when you get this, you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself publicly, then send this ask to 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool) 🫶🏼✨
oof okay let me see what i can crank out.
i like my handwriting. the older i get, the more i can appreciate it, if that makes sense. like i've handwritten things for so long and i've only just recently learned how to really love it.
i like my job. i like that even though i wasn't sure what i wanted to do, i chose the thing that i did. it's been very rewarding thus far.
i like my ability to power through school. i'm so very close to finishing my master's degree and i have half a mind to find a doctorate program. i just have to publish some things first if i want to get it :')
i like my love for comfy things. i like to be as comfortable as possible, even on my bad days, so i appreciate the good me that always keeps an eye out for things i know i'll need.
i like how resilient i have been the last few years. especially compared to 13-year-old me. lol
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Hi beauty, I love you ❤️
hi pretty thing <3 i love you, too
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your love awaits my own
gn!reader, 614 words
summary: osferth is a blabbermouth around you, and sometimes, it leads to incredible things.
a/n: i started writing this last year... i only got around to finishing it towards the beginning of june. whoops.
tw: n/a
"You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen," Osferth blurted, eyes growing wide and lips clamping shut as soon as he spoke.
Sihtric choked on his drink, nearly spitting the beverage out as Uhtred looked up at him in mild surprise.
A heavy blush coated his cheeks as he cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you. He couldn't look at you. Not with a comment as embarrassing as that.
You couldn't help but laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Oh? And what's beautiful about them, monk?" you asked, leaning back against your seat.
Finan snickered in his seat, while Sihtric was still recovering, unable to stop from laughing at the baby monk. Finan couldn't help the pride that blossomed in his chest.
"Well, I don't—"
"—so are you lying, then?" you quickly interrupted. "I didn't know monks were keen on lying."
"No, I am not lying! I just... I was not prepared to hear myself say that, especially in front of... well..."
Uhtred stood up from his seat, patting Osferth on the back as he motioned for the others to leave. Sihtric made a noise of protest, but as Finan stood, he, too, rose to leave for the time being.
Osferth squirmed where he sat, taking a sip of his own drink as you continued to stare him down.
"Well?" you asked.
He sat his cup down, eyes slowly trailing up to your own. He couldn't believe he had said that—how embarrassing! How completely foolish of him to say such a thing. How... completely and utterly honest he had been as soon as the words left his mouth.
Osferth let out a soft sigh.
"You... you have the kindest eyes I have ever seen," he said. "I do believe any time you gaze at me, I am happiest."
Your smile only grew.
"Alright, monk," you said. "I—"
"—I'm not finished," he said. "It's... not just your eyes that are beautiful."
This piqued your interest. You fell silent, watching him closely. You had had a crush on the monk for some time, and regardless of what he said, you doubted it would anything. In fact, the fact that he became so flustered from this little mishap made it all worthwhile.
He softly spoke your name, and it was as if the sweetest of music came from his very lips.
"Your smile... your face. I—if I am being honest, I did not think this far ahead. I had talked to Finan, and he said to compliment you, but as you can tell, I do not believe it's going very well."
"Why did you want to compliment me, Osferth?"
He frowned. "Is it not obvious?"
"It is," you said with a smile. "I would much rather hear you say it, though."
"I... I quite like you," he said. Your name left his lips as he shifted in his seat, eyes gazing into yours. "I do not believe I've ever cared for anyone the way I care for you."
Your eyes widened. "You... you speak in earnest?"
"Of course I do," he said, a soft smile beginning to form on his lips. "I have never been dishonest with you, and I do not plan to do so, now."
You began to smile. "I quite like you, too, Osferth."
"You do?" Osferth asked, his heart lurching to his throat.
"I do."
A loud cheer came from behind you, a cup slamming down on the table beside you.
"It's about time!" Sihtric excitedly yelled, taking a seat beside you.
Osferth furiously blushed as he looked anywhere but his friends, but he was grateful to know you shared the same feelings. He couldn't bear thinking otherwise.
#osferth#osferth x reader#the last kingdom fanfic#tlk#tlk x reader#osferth x gn!reader#gender neutral#gender neutral pronouns#x reader#the last kingdom#the last kingdom x reader#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader
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moodboard for when your beloved mutual says something nice to you
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mental illness is so embarassing i’ll literally be like I’m fully aware I’m mentally ill but it’s not mental illness this time. and then it was mental illness
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Hi Aurora,
I wish you all the best to your birthday today! 🥳🎉✨
As a little present, I made this little Benedict for you! 🤗
I hope you like it! I know I’m not the greatest in drawing, but I tried my best! 😄
Have a great rest of the day! 🎁🎂
this is ridiculously sweet!! oh my gosh ;-; thank you so much!!
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it’s officially my birthday! 🎉 22 :’)
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i was made for lovin' you
fem!plus size!reader, 2.4k words
summary: the reader loves benedict bridgerton. when he dances the night away with her dear sister, she wonders if her love is perhaps... unrequited.
a/n: my initial note for this fic was: i was the chubby unpopular insecure girl in school. i'm still the chubby girl. and i need fluff today. so that's what's gonna happen.
i initially started writing this... last year. it's been over six months ago since i've touched this. the title is totally from the kiss song.
tw: bodily description, vague description of anxiety, momentary insecurity, but it's brief!!
Curves adorned your body in a way that remained otherwise unknown to so many others. Thick thighs hid beneath layers of clothing. Your stomach pressed against the fabric of your top, threatening to squeeze the very essence of life out of you. But you stood there, discomfort climbing its way up your spine, threatening to call you out for being a fraud. You lived in peril, awaiting the blossoming of the flower of insecurity and fear.
No gentleman would ever look your way, even with the most expensive of clothing. Liquid gold could be dripping from your fingertips, and not one of the men in the 'ton would give you the time of day.
At least, that is what you told yourself. That is what you had believed since the time you could register the fact that you were the thicker girl.
And it's not that you hated your body. No, that was far from the truth. You had come to love yourself in your own way, trying your best to live with what the world had given you. But you knew men, and you knew the gentlemen of the 'ton. You were treated differently, just because of your size.
You were different.
But he never treated you as if there was something wrong with you. No, Benedict Bridgerton was your dearest friend, but you couldn't help but feel as if he never truly cared for you in the way that you cared for him.
The way that you loved him.
You had yet to properly talk to him, knowing his elder brother hosted the ball of the evening. It wouldn't surprise you if Benedict was busy entertaining other gentlemen—entertaining your sister, perhaps.
The clothing you wore that night was flattering, for the most part. You couldn't deny that. Your mother had chosen well for the ball, keeping your mind at bay. She had impeccable taste, regardless of the crude comments that so often left her rouge lips. But despite the clothing, despite the restricting fabric, you couldn't help but watch and feel less than others around you.
Especially when you knew the man you favored was out there, fawning over your sister (not even liquid gold would work in her favor—she merely needed to raise a finger, and men would fall to her feet, begging for a chance to be hers).
The beautiful women who danced passed you, hand in hand with a suitor or with a dear gentleman. Their dance cards were nearly filled at this point. The stunning men wore beautifully tailored suits, sending smiles and small nods to those they spoke with. Well-rounded pencils would need to be sharpened before too long.
You stuck out like a sore thumb in the corner of the ballroom, drawing imaginary attention right to your very soul.
Your dance card rested in the palm of your hand, not a single gentleman's name residing on it. Like many balls before, suitors avoided you—or perhaps, you avoided them. Staying in your safety corner seemed to be the best bet, but you knew it would catch up to you (eventually).
There wasn’t a possibility for a suitor to come to you, unless he wanted whispers to be spread. You were an outcast.
You made yourself an outcast. But perhaps our worst enemy came from our very own minds, taunting us and keeping those we love far, far away.
Had you been your elegant sister, dancing the night away with the handsome Bridgerton boy amongst many other men, maybe you would have felt more comfortable.
Her card was completely filled, and now, she milled around with her friends, looking for a gentleman to speak with. The season wouldn't last forever.
And you knew it.
The season would be over in a heartbeat, and you would be left without a single name on your dance card.
How incredibly frustrating. You knew you were beautiful. You knew you had a grand personality, fit for that of a gentleman. You were smart and intelligent and you knew how to do so many things.
But standing here, you felt as if your clothing was choking you to the point of no return. It didn't matter that you could read a book in a day, or recite your favorite poetry. It didn't matter that you learned to cook from your favorite maid, or that you could write a piece of prose so beautifully it brought tears to your delicate sister's eyes.
Warmth flooded throughout your body. You hesitantly pulled up the fabric of your skirts and made your way to the crowd, finding the cool night in an instant. The chill of the breeze cooled you down the best it could, but it could only do so much for the roaring fire in your mind.
Your mother would surely have yet another snide comment about the fact that she did all this work just for you to avoid the crowd. Your father would listen silently, but you knew he agreed. He always did.
Your sister would yet again set on a suitor, her beauty and gracefulness the only blessing upon your family. She would be set for life while you die a lowly spinster.
Maybe she would bless you with a quaint cottage of your own. She'd be able to marry the richest man in the 'ton, if she was so pleased to say yes.
You walked closer to the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard, eyes closing as you came to a stop. The chatter and music from the manor wafted in the air, and the smell of freshly trimmed grass plagued your nose. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as the air around you only seemed to get cooler. Perhaps outside wasn't your best decision, but anything was better than the scrutiny of roaming eyes.
Solitude found you best, creativity striking you when you were all alone—most of the time. Today, it only brought you a fraction of the comfort you sought.
Despite your indiscretion, you weren't alone for very long.
"Lady L/n?" a voice came from behind you.
Your eyes shot open and you looked over your shoulder.
Benedict Bridgerton.
He had danced with your sister nearly three dances ago—you hadn't seen him since then.
He sent you a soft smile, relaxing when he saw you.
"May I ask what you're doing out here all alone?"
"I could ask you the same thing," you said. "Sir Bridgerton."
His smile only grew.
The two of you had known each other far longer than you would ever admit, and every time you saw him reminded you of why you fell for him to begin with. But he belonged with someone else—he would be good for them, and marrying into a family of money would secure the safety of the woman's future and her family's future.
You would take what you could get, even if it meant waiting until your father made you a match… if even he could manage such a feat. He quite hated the idea of society. It was your mother who pushed him into the world, making him do good by the ‘ton and his family name.
Benedict deserved someone good—someone who would boost his status in society, and always be there to love and care for him.
Many weren't so lucky with their marriages (your mother and father, for example).
"That's no way to talk to a gentleman, now is it? Whatever would your dear mother say if she were to find out how you speak to me?" he asked, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his chest.
"Trust me," you said, turning to face him with a soft smile. "I promise she will find little problem with it when she knows you are on Katherine's card."
"Hm," he tilted his head as he watched you. "And who have you danced with, Lady Y/n? I have yet to see you out on the dance floor tonight, and now I find you all alone. It feels as if autumn is already upon us. Surely you don't want to catch a cold as well?"
"I have danced with no one," you said, looking back at the fountain. "And you surely shouldn't be here with me, alone. Quite a scandal you'd create for your sister to cover up."
"Is that not why she is the Duchess? So I can create whatever scandal I dream of?"
You could practically hear the smug smile on his face, but you didn't turn to face him. Your arms hesitantly wrapped around your torso as you continued to stare at the flowing water.
"Y/n?" he softly spoke, coming to stand beside you. "Are you alright?"
His hand touched your cold arm and you immediately pulled away.
"Should you not be back inside with Katherine?" you asked. "It will be quite a scandal if you were to be out here with me."
He furrowed his eyebrows. "What is with you and scandals? Nothing of the sort will happen. I'd much rather spend the rest of the evening with you."
You frowned. "If you must, perhaps we should return inside. You should sign my dance card to keep my mother from asking questions."
"I would do so, gladly, Y/n, but I did not think you wanted me to do so," he said, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke.
"Why wouldn't I want you to?" you began, averting your gaze. "You know me better than I know myself."
He tilted his head curiously. "I do believe there are things I've yet to acquire," he said, gently taking your hand as he spoke. This time, you didn't pull away. "Whatever is the matter?"
"You are a dear friend, Benedict," you said. "I would never want to do something to put our friendship in jeopardy."
"Perhaps you will if you continue alluding me so. I asked you a question, my Lady."
A beat passes, the music coming from inside becoming light and jovial for the newest dance. Your sister was already dancing with another, enjoying herself and smiling all the while. Not that you could see.
"Y/n, please," he said, voice barely above a whisper—defeated, one could safely say.
"I care for you," you said. "If—if my sister is what you want, if she will make you happy, then by all means, you have my blessing."
He blinked slowly at you, lips parting to speak, but you speak first.
"I understand why you care for her so. She is beautiful, and she will be an excellent wife. She is so unlike me. She... she will make you so unbelievably happy, Benedict."
"Wait."
His fingers laced with your gloved hand as he gently pressed his other to the side of your face, making you look at him.
"Where is this coming from?" he asked, allowing his hand to drop. "Who said... who said I was interested in her?"
"No one. Nothing needed to be said for me to assume. Did I assume correctly, Lord Bridgerton?"
He chuckled softly, tilting his head as he watched you. "Not at all, my dear," he said. "You are so far from the truth that it is quite... comical."
"Comical?" you blurted, looking up at him in disbelief.
"Your sister was... helping me. I had planned to ask you in such a grand manner that I needed some assistance. Perhaps her planning skills would be far superior to mine when it comes to an event such as... well..."
"An event? What—what have you been planning, Benedict?"
His eyes softened. Were you blind? Or had he been so secretive with his feelings for you that you remained oblivious to the fact that he loved you more than life itself?
"Benedict, please," you said. "We do not have all night. They will notice we have left the party, soon enough."
"I wanted to know what would be best to ask you," he said.
"Ask me what?"
"To marry me, Y/n."
Time stood still. Big eyes stared up at him in disbelief, lips parted as you swam in an ocean of words, but nothing broke the surface. Was he serious?
"Benedict—"
"—will you marry me, Y/n?"
"I—"
"—I had planned on asking you soon, with flowers and a ring, and perhaps a grand occasion so the gentlemen knew you were taken, but—"
"—Benedict..."
He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to say no. He could see it in your eyes.
"You want to marry me?" you asked, hand holding onto his. "You... do you... I care for you, deeply, Benedict."
"And I, you, Y/n."
You searched his eyes for a sign—for an answer, perhaps. You had dreamed of this night for so long, and here it was, front and center. He cared for you. He wanted to marry you.
"I will," you said.
He released a breath, suddenly pulling you into his arms. You said you would. Yes. The answer was yes. Benedict would marry his best friend.
Benedict fought the urge to kiss you, despite knowing you would allow him.
“Let us return,” he softly said. “Perhaps you should inform your mother of your latest rendezvous.”
Your eyes widened a bit.
“Of course, I will be with you. Wouldn’t she enjoy seeing that?”
Your lips spread into a soft smile. “Yes. She would.”
Benedict took your hand and led you back to the porch. No one else stood outside.
“I will return first,” he softly said. “I will find your sister, and then, I will come and find you.”
“Oh, you do not want a scandal, dear Benedict?” you asked, a grin forming.
His eyes hardened as he looked back at you. “Would you like a scandal, Lady Y/n?” His voice betrayed the look he gave you, and instantly, his hard look dissolved into a smile. “Allow me to return. We will have enough gossip to go around once the news has broke in the ‘ton.” He took your hand again and pressed a kiss to your gloved knuckles. “Until we meet again.”
“I will see you inside,” you said, smiling all the while.
Benedict left you, and you waited merely a few minutes before you returned. You remained blissfully ignored, and for once, you appreciated the fact. You found your mother in an instant, and only when Benedict found you again did you tell her the news.
#benedict#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#chubby reader#fem!reader#x reader#reader insert#y/n#use of y/n#bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton fanfiction
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When a character’s death is so traumatic you just sit there like
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