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starlight-writer · 30 days

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Fighting

A)n: Heyyyy... I'm back :)

Warning: none, angst, yelling, arguing

Gn reader Masterlist

Steven

He doesn’t yell

But it’s that exactly that makes it worse

He refuses to yell, but he’ll be a sarcastic little shit

“Oh really? How lovely.”

“Oh my dearest apologies, my liege, I didn’t realize I had to agree with everything you had to say.”

Steven won’t back down, he’ll keep this energy until he’s done talking about it and then he’ll ignore you

He won’t ask how your day's been, he won't hug you, he won't even look at you

And it’ll drive you crazy

The only reason this started was because Steven missed a date and didn’t acknowledge that he would be late or wanted to cancel

He was working late for Donna again, but this time it just set off something in his head

Normally you wouldn’t be too upset about him missing a date, seeing as he’s got other people to take care of and he’s got a shitty boss, but when you asked him about the date, he blew up

“God, it was one date, why do you have to nag me about it?”

“Excuse me? I wasn’t trying to nag you, Steven, I just wanted to know what happened.”

“You’re not my bloody parent, you don’t need to know!”

“Take that back.”

“No.”

And now you're in your room and Steven's sleeping on the couch

That night will give him time to realize he was in the wrong and he'll feel super guilty

When he wakes up with a stiff back and sore neck, he'll think he deserves it

He'll wait until you come out to get up

And then he's following you around like a lost puppy

He won't say anything, but he'll look so sad and just be following you everywhere you go

It would be cute if you weren't upset with him

You'll have to be the one to start a conversation, but as soon as you say a single word to him, Steven's apologizing faster than you can process

"Love, I'm so so sorry. I was an absolute knob, I was so stressed and upset yesterday and I know that's not a reason to treat you so terribly, but it was such a bad day. I promise I'll make it up with 3, no, 5 dates! We can do whatever you want today and tomorrow and all week! Please forgive me, darling. I know I don't deserve it, but please just give me another chance."

He looks like he's about to burst into tears and kneel for you

(Which would be hot in a different setting)

Depending on how passionate you feel about this, it might take some time to forgive him, but he's there every second of the day

Or if you want him to leave you alone, he'll respect that

You'll find little notes of lovey poems around the flat and your favorite snacks littered around the living room

He honestly feels like a terrible partner so when you do decide to forgive him, just give him a kiss and hug him

He'll cry and apologize a bunch more so just pet his head and tell him it's ok

He'll genuinely sit you down and ask if there's something he can do to get his 'anger issues' under control

Poor baby doesn't have anger issues, he just has a shitty boss <3

Marc

He yells

He yells loud and painful things

He doesn’t care, he can’t bother to care

He’s angry and that’s all he feels

He can’t think past it, it’s like he sees red

He’ll shout until his throat is raw, but he’ll get as many insults and sarcastic comments he can before that happens

He knows what he’s doing is wrong, he knows the only reason you’re arguing is because of him

But he’s not backing down

He wants to hurt you and he does

And it makes everything worse for at least a week

Marc came home absolutely wreaked from a fight and refused your help, preferring to drink and just sit there

If you weren’t so upset at the fact he refused your help and instead wanted the help of alcohol, you’d yell at him about staining the couch with his blood

You’ll either have to deal with Marc breaking out into an argument after the initial one, or leave to stay somewhere else

If you come back the next day, Marc will still be upset

He won’t start yelling at you again, but he’ll ignore you

And it really just stops there

It’s the silent treatment for a week

He'll make dinner for you and all that, but he won't talk to you

He'll stare at you, wondering if you'll be the one to apologize

Or he'll be staring at you to see if you're watching him

You're not

He'll stay silent for an entire week, festering in his anger and guilt until it overflows

And when you come back home from work or being out late, he's waiting for you

And he looks like a kicked puppy

It was no surprise Marc had no idea how to apologize and admit/accept his feelings but at this moment, none of that mattered

His guilt and the feeling of missing you outweighed his discomfort of voicing his feelings

He'll start with an apology, saying how sorry he was and how terrible he felt

He didn't give any excuse or reason for his anger, he just apologized and stood there

He expects you to yell at him, leave him, insult him

Just gently take him in your arms and kiss his cheek

You don't even have to tell him anything, he'll promise to never yell at you like that again

"If I do, you can hit me as hard as you want."

Marc will say, though if you did actually hit him, he'd probably cry

He'll be so genuine with his words and.the nail in the coffin was the fact that he promised

Marc never makes promises, even if he knows he can fulfill them

But he swears up and down that he will never yell at you again

And he does everything in his power to reverse or heal the damage his words did to you

Even going out of his comfort zone

He loves you so much and he doesn't understand why you're still with him, but he thanks every God and Goddess that you are

Jake

He’s dangerously silent

He’ll stand there completely blanked face, eyes set in a slight glare as you argue about something that was definitely his fault

Maybe he missed a date and didn’t bother to let you know he wasn’t coming or wrote off your worry about a few injuries and called you ‘clingy’ and ‘overbearing’

Either way, he doesn’t respond to your anger, just standing there like he didn’t care

And it hurt

Once you were done explaining how you felt or what Jake did wrong, he’ll roll his eyes, pull out a cigarette and sit in the couch

He’ll play the baseball game he may have missed or just watch the news to really set in that something that boring was more interesting than your feelings

“Do you seriously find the news more important than our relationship?”

He won’t look at you

“I can’t believe this. If you care so fucking little, then why are you still here?”

“This is my house.”

“Then maybe I should go if it’s just your house.”

“You should.”

And you do

You go to a friends house, or a hotel, somewhere that you can rest for the night because you’re obviously not going to get anywhere with Jake and you can’t stand his attitude

The second you’re out of the room, Jake curses and throws the tv remote at the wall

He throws everything that he can without any worry of breaking something or getting a noise complaint

He'll throw bottles, plates, pillows, books

Once he's run out of steam, he'll shamefully clean up everything, throwing glass away and putting pillows back

That's give him the time he needs to realize 'oh shit, I fucked up'

He won't come out and admit it instantly, no

He'll fester in his guilt and figure out what exactly he should say

He'll even plan out when he should breathe during his apology

And when you get home, no matter when that is, Jake it waiting patiently with breakfast, lunch, or dinner

He'll give a nervous smile and walk up to you, giving you a hesitant kiss on your cheek before pulling you to the living room couch

Your plate of food is already made and somehow still warm despite Jake no knowing when you'd be back

He'll give an awkward apology, explaining how he's still not used to being something more than a protector for Marc and Steven, how he's still learning to let people in, how he loves you with all his heart despite being such a monster

He might start crying, but he'll try not to show you

He doesn't want to show vulnerability, but he knows it's important in a relationship

So he'll just ask very quietly if he can hug you

Is you say no, he'll nod in understanding as tears fall into his lap

He'll quietly mutter another apology and just sit there, unsure as to what to do

If you say yes, however, he'll gently wrap his arms around your waist and bury his head in your neck

He'll silently cry, muttering 'i love you' over and over again until you say it back

Just rub his back and kiss his head, tell him you forgive him or need time to forgive him and he'll understand either way

He loves you with his entire being, almost like he lives off of loving you

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector #marvel #jake lockley #moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley x gn!reader #marc spector x gn!reader #steven grant x gn!reader #starlight writes

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starlightinhumanform · 2 years

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there is something so intimate about showing someone scars. saying look, this is where i have known pain, where i have been most vulnerable, where my insides have been forced to open to the biting outside. this is where the body beneath this flesh has known the world around it and i want it to know you as well. this is where i have healed and you are a part of that healing. this is where i am imperfect, where my skin has attempted to stich itself together, these are the flaws in my making and i want you to know them.

#spilled words #love #prose #spilled prose #intimate #writeblr #writerblr #poetry #poetry by me #original prose #starlight writes #damn it's been way too long since i've used that tag #ask to tw

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axolotiels · 1 year

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i never crossposted this here but lesley DHMIS/reader, it’s saucy so dont read if you arent into 70 year old quasi-undead puppet women

-https://archiveofourown.org/works/45392068/chapters/114205339

#dhmis #dhmis lesley #lesley dhmis #starlight writes

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silverstarlightwrites · 2 years

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Shout out to the ficlet I wrote about Pitch (Rise of the Guardians) and his backstory when I was young, because I desperately wish I still had a copy of it and I don't

#StarlightLion #Starlight Writes #Rise of the Guardians #oh back in the day of ff.net #I can't even remember what I called it but it was a thing #so if any of y'all got a copy of Ninjakittee's weird ass depressing Pitch-centric ficlet #hit me up XD

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nicosraf · 4 months

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As per my last post, if yall arent aware — Cait Corrain, the author of the upcoming Crown of Starlight made a bunch of fake accounts on Goodreads to review-bomb other debut authors, almost entirely BIPOC, with 1 star while 5-starring her own book. She also added traditionally published debut authors to a list derogatorily labeling them as "self-published" hacks. She went after random books that are Greek mythology retellings, like her own is, and again targeted BIPOC authors. She even targeted my good friend RM Virtues, who is an indie author who writes queer Black Greek myth reimaginings.

Many of those she attacked were people who considered her a colleague and friend. She's tried to spin a lie about how she's being framed by someone from her Reylo fandom days, but Reylos have disproven that already.

Cait allegedly liked to brag about how her publisher treated her like royalty, and she had a massive Illumicrate deal. Her book was also getting favorable advanced reviews and had a beautiful cover, so she had nothing to be jealous of. She's potentially destroyed her career due to racism alone. Do not buy her book and do not support her.

Here is a thread if you want specifics and here is the 31-page doc of evidence.

#havent seen this on tumblr really so #in case you all weren't aware #this is gravely serious #mine #publishing #writing #author #books #cait corrain #crown of starlight

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dapper-lil-arts · 2 months

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Deleted scenes from the fanfic im writing

assorted unrelated Sunset Shimmer misadventures lmao. i'll put the context on the ending author's note part of the fic -v-

#sketches #writing stuff #i had so much fun writing this dumbass fic #i will not fully draw these but i like em #also i gotta redesign starlights hair #Sunset shimmer #twilight sparkle #rarity #rarijack #applebloom #pinkie pie #trixie lulamoon #starlight glimmer #startrix #random assorted doodles are fun to do #meme #babs seed

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starlightvld · 2 months

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Up in Smoke

(Also on AO3)

The first time Ghost rips the cigarette from Soap's mouth, drops it on the ground, and stomps on it as he passes by, Soap is too stunned to say anything for a full ten seconds. They've only been working together consistently for a couple of missions, and even as his superior officer, the audacity of the action floors him.

By the time his brain restarts, Ghost is long gone.

The second time Ghost steals Soap's cigarette, he bursts out in a string of Scottish curses and tackles Ghost from behind before the wanker can drop it on the ground. An impromptu sparring match ensues, fists and curses flying.

Afterward, he doesn't feel much like a cigarette anymore — not with the split lip, anyway. Besides, the buzzing under his skin that usually drives him to smoke is just... gone.

Price catches wind of the incident, of course, and calls them into his office a few hours later. By that time Soap has calmed down enough to be... maybe not okay with it, but at least able to see the humor.

"What's this about you muppets scuffling by the smoking area?"

"Just a little sparring to blow off steam," Soap says.

"Ghost?"

"Nothin' to worry about, Captain."

"No? I've got one soldier who looks like he just got back from a bar fight, and the other..." He squints at Ghost. "He get a hit in on you, too?"

"Yeah," Ghost replies in that deadpan tone of his. "Coupla black eyes."

It's a joke.

Ghost is telling a joke. And it's objectively not funny. It's not. But Soap bursts into hysterical laughter all the same.

The corners of Ghost's blacked-out eyes crinkle.

Price rubs his temples before dropping his hand on his desk. Soap presses his lips together to contain his laughter.

"Sparring happens in the gym. I'm sure you know the place. It's where we have things like mats and gloves. I catch you two bare-knuckle fighting again, and you will regret it."

And it's enough to sober Soap up. He avoids Ghost as he ducks away to catch dinner.

The third time... well, no. He supposes that's really the fourth time.

Because the actual third time, Soap had come back from a shit mission where everything went wrong. Intel was faulty, exfil was delayed, and people under his command died. It didn't happen as often in SAS as it had in the regulars — the soldiers here were well-trained and hard to kill — but that made it all the worse.

When Ghost tried to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, Soap growled.

"Back the fuck up, Lt. Or Price is gonna be disappointed in both of us."

Ghost paused, and their eyes met. Slowly, Ghost lowered his hand.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Fuck no."

"Thank God."

Soap didn't have it in him to even huff a laugh. He took a long drag and blew the smoke away from Ghost as a peace offering.

To his surprise, Ghost didn't leave. He spun around and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. They stood there together, utterly silent, as Soap let the heat and sting in his lungs soothe the beast inside that wanted to rip the world apart.

When he was done, though, he was surprised to find he didn't want another. Usually after shit missions, he'd stand there and smoke half a pack before his hands would stop shaking.

He finally met Ghost's eyes. The man quirked a barely visible brow.

"S'pose we should take it to the mats this time?"

Ghost pushed off the building and started walking. Soap followed like a lost child looking for a way home.

The fourth time is in Chicago. His hands are shaking not from losing soldiers but from almost losing his own life. The cigarette trembles in his grip as he stands outside the bar, the biting wind turning his fingers and probably his lips blue. He lifts it to his mouth, inhaling deep—

And then it's gone.

The whine that bubbles up from his gut and bursts from his throat is nothing short of humiliating. But God. God. He needs it.

"Not now. Please, Ghost."

"Why?"

Ghost hasn't thrown the cigarette down. Yet. He cocks his head to the side and gives Soap a long look. Soap can only tremble from the cold and a need that goes deeper than a simple hit of nicotine.

"I just... I need it."

The cigarette drops to the ground, but Soap doesn't have time to lament the loss before that same hand is curling around Soap's neck and pulling him into a fucking massive chest. The other arm comes around Soap's shoulders and...

Ghost just stands there, holding him. And Soap can't help melting into the warmth and solidity of the man who saved his life just hours ago. He dares to curl in deeper. To raise his hands and clutch at Ghost's jacket. To let a few, silent tears escape his tight control.

Finally, his muscles relax. Ghost must feel it, because he turns and leads Soap back toward the bar.

"Why do ye even care?" Soap mumbles from his spot tucked into Ghost's side.

"Because those things'll kill ya."

Soap supposes the "I like you alive" is implied at this point.

Soap loses count after Chicago. He gets stretches of days when Ghost is on a solo op or out with one of the other operators when he can smoke in peace. So he does.

At first.

He's been hooked since he was a rebellious teen trying to make his mark on the world. He's tried to quit multiple times, but it never seems to stick. The first bad mission or adrenaline-filled near miss and he's back at whatever smoking spot he can find, puffing away.

He finds himself trying to cut back, though, even when Ghost is away.

Any time Ghost is on base, all bets are off. In addition to darting by and making a grab for it or sneaking up behind him and flicking it out of his hands, Ghost has gotten more creative. Sometimes Soap will pull out a cigarette only to find he's "lost" his lighter. Sometimes the cigarettes themselves go missing — he clutches his chest and mourns all that wasted money whenever a whole pack disappears.

He supposes it's all just going up in smoke anyway, though.

He should be angry. But in truth, it's almost a relief to hand over the reins to Ghost. To let the man help him by annoying the shit out of him until he wants to give up on it entirely.

Which is definitely the point. Ghost has made that perfectly clear.

So, whenever he gets the urge to calm his racing thoughts or overactive mind with a cigarette, he finds Ghost and annoys him instead. They talk, or spar, or simply sit in silence together, doing their own thing. Ghost doesn't often touch him — their moment in Chicago is still the closest Soap's ever gotten to the elusive Ghost — but he also doesn't push Soap away when he slumps into Ghost's side after a hard day or leans over his back when he's sitting at the table in the 141's common area on base.

The urge doesn't go away, of course. And sometimes, when things get really bad, Ghost will just sit or stand with him like he did the third time. Still, he finds himself smoking less and hanging out with Ghost more.

The last time Ghost steals a cigarette from Soap, he simply stands beside Soap and holds out his hand. Soap immediately knows something has gone terribly wrong. Still, he's too invested in the game now to not hand the cigarette over.

He nearly keels over when Ghost pulls up his mask and takes a long, hard drag. Soap watches in fascination as his cheeks hollow, his neck muscles strain, his lips curve around the paper. It's erotic in a way he really shouldn't be thinking about in regards to his emotionally unavailable superior officer, but the knowledge hasn't stopped him yet. Since that day in Chicago — probably before if he's honest — he's only ever wanted to be closer.

Ghost coughs a little and hands the cigarette back.

"Fuck. Just as disgusting as I remember."

"Ye used to smoke, then?"

"Before I joined up, yeah. Hated it, though."

"The smell? Or—"

"Everything. The taste, the smell, the heat..." Ghost trails off, his hand rubbing over his bicep in a strangely specific way. He shakes his head and looks back at Soap. "Not your problem, Johnny. Forget about it."

Soap's hand is darting out, fingers curling into Ghost's jacket, before he's properly thought through the action. Ghost pauses before turning back. They stare in silence for a moment until—

Soap stubs out the half-burned cigarette and drops the butt in the trash. He licks his lips. Glances up at Ghost. The mask is still sitting on his nose, and Soap stares at his lips for longer than he should before pulling the pack out of his pocket and throwing it in the trash, too.

"Cannae have ye thinking I stink, can I?"

"Too late."

But Ghost's throat bobs with a hard swallow. Soap wets his lips, takes a step closer, and uncurls his fingers to slide his hand up Ghost's chest until his fingertips are resting on Ghost's shirt collar.

"I dinnae think it is."

Ghost turns and walks away. Soap closes his eyes and drops his hand, internally cursing his impulsive behavior. The scuffing of boots walking away from him is like nails on a chalk board.

Until they stop, and a gruff voice calls out, "You comin'?"

A slow smile slides across Soap's mouth. "No' yet."

A huff — exasperation? laughter? a bit of both? — before, "Better get movin' then."

And Soap has never been more glad to follow an order.

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silverstarlightlion · 2 years

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So I just finished watching a playthrough of a game called Clown in a House, and it was a fascinating and slightly... unnerving experience. From very early on in the game, it struck me as a metaphor created to sort of vicariously present the experience of being a creative - be that a game dev, or a visual artist, or (as is primarily my own experience) an author, or any other form - and the YouTuber in question slowly came to the same realisation as well.

But what's truly interesting is the differences in how I understood the metaphor we were presented with (in that para-surreal time where both he and I are experiencing the same game in the same moment, reacting simultaneously, even though he neither knows I exist nor is currently experiencing that game), and how did. To me, the player character - the Clown - is a fusion of the creator themself as well as every person to ever consume their media. The Clown wanders the House, interacts with everything he can, finds out the secrets and flips between obeying the Narrator and disobeying them. Sometimes the Narrator seems to be in complete control of the House - of the world they're building, both literally and metaphorically - but other times it seems like they just can't get a handle on all the things spilling out from the walls and the paintings and the doors that you, the player, aren't intended to go through. The Clown sees more than the Narrator, the Creator, ever meant to show him. And the other characters, they're not entirely under control. The Clown can interact with them. The Clown can kill them.

There's an ending where the Clown leaves the House entirely, and drifts into the Void. And each choice, each ending, leaves itself imprinted upon the House, even when the Clown comes back to wander it anew. There's a bloodstain on the floor from when the Clown was consumed. The body of the 'monster' with a knife in its back never goes away. The remnants and echoes and skeletons - literally - of all the Clowns who came before are littered everywhere by the time you've got all the endings. And you can choose to leave through the front door over and over again. Into the Void. Escape the Creator. And the Creator wonders, first to themself, and then to you, and then to themself again, if you're leaving because they did something wrong. Are they wrong in their own right? Is there something irredeemable about them, something that drives you away again and again?

Why do you keep coming back?

There's also a bunch of very on the nose commentary about how exploited the creative industry is, musicians who make peanuts with the music they made because the record labels own them and everything born from their hands. The gaming industry takes and takes and takes and pays you back with shallow pointless 'motivation' and 'exposure'. That ending has you carry a boulder back and forth between two platforms, looking for the perfect magical aesthetic, until you literally collapse and die. There are rooms in the House that are chaotic and unstable and inarticulate. The rules don't fully apply in those rooms. They're unfinished. The Creator didn't mean for you to see them. The foundations upon which any creation is made, the leftovers from all the parts that support the final product but never quite made it intact.

Honestly, I could go on and on and on. There's an ending where you sleep and never wake up, because it's exhausting and even doing basic things like brushing your teeth leaves an awful aftertaste on your tongue. There's an ending where you decide that everyone else and their opinions can go fuck themselves, and you dance in colour and light and joy. An ending where the Creator turns the game into a gatcha, because embracing the shallow commercialism is easier and financially safer than following through on the original concept. An ending where you touch all the plants, and the Creator gets so exasperated with you that they spawn in dozens of new plants, and then a plant monster boss, and then sighs and scraps the whole thing entirely. Start over. There's so much.

But even though I looked at all these endings, and all the ways they spoke to me as a creative person who dedicates honestly the vast majority of my time to that pursuit, that's not quite the same impression that the YouTuber got. Is it because he's not a creative in the same way that I am? He's certainly a creator. Is it me? Is it him? Is it just a difference in the wirings of our brains, is it experiential differences, is it innate or externally enforced? Do I understand the actual words in a different enough way that the overall impression is altered? Just enough that all combined, it makes a tangible difference?

There's no way for me to know. Just like there's no way for the Creator to know why the Clown keeps clawing at the boarded up door no matter how often they beg him to leave it alone. There's no way to predict what the Clown will do, because the Clown is other people. Except sometimes the Clown is them, as well. Sometimes the Clown is me. Sometimes the Clown is us.

Anyway, this has been my philosophical ramble for the day. Creativity is strange and unnerving and ecstatic all at once. Blissfully disturbing. Am I, the creator, in control? Am I just the clown? Well... yes. And no. My experience is not universal, even when I'm the one who crafted that experience with my own heart and mind and time. Am I responsible for the impact my House has on others? Do the rest of you see the remains of all the Clowns that came before? Are you disturbed by the corpse of a monster with a knife in its back? Do you even notice the bloodstains?

#StarlightLion #Starlight Writes #Starlight Rambles #delusions of philosophy #idk it's a stream of consciousness that I just needed to write down #take it at face value #there's really not a lot of hidden meaning here XD #yeet #tw unreality #just a little

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 13 days

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AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺

WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..

designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.

and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of something you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.

yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”

😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.

#thank you 🌺 anon my beloved….. i am kissing your beautiful brain #😭😭😭😭 now i kinda wanna write this oh no #my anons keep making my wip list longer this isn’t fair T—T #(i love you all very much)#NO BUT THIS IS SO BIGBRAINED IT’S INSANE #fashion designer!sugu the loml…. model!satoru just feels so natural too #i think they’re both very mature!!!!!!!#there are some aus where i think satoru would lean towards his more bratty hs self #but here i feel like he’s similar to the way he is in canon :3 just. silly and goofy and passionate abt what he does #AND very fond of youth. of people with lofty goals and dreams and starlight in their eyes #(<- has gotten carried away)#YOU GET IT THOUGH i know you’ll see the vision 🌺 anon 🫂🫂🫂 we’re holding hands #i need them both #need suguru to buy me expensive coffee while satoru feeds me pieces of a pastry #for some reason i keep thinking of coffee breaks i might. just be hungry 😭😭😭#ask tag ✩#🌺 anon !! ✩#geto x reader #gojo x reader #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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chichikoi · 18 days

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hiraeth.

part II. synopsis: she watches as cassian falls for another, grappling with her own hidden affections and their newly snapped mating bond in the process. pairing: cassian x fem!reader fandom: a court of thorns and roses (book series by sarah j maas) genre: angst warnings: none a/n: house of balloons/glass table girls, this is his song... i love him. fluff part two coming up OBVIOUSLY, im not fucking ending it like this i cant do this to my #1 loverboy babygirl kitty princess beloved. @joyseuphoria hi <3

Cassian had always been the beacon of power and resolve, with a demeanor rugged and unyielding. But beneath the surface was vulnerability, and she knew that it was written in the stars for her to remain by his side as his closest friend and confidante, never to become one to uncover that side of him.

But it didn’t make it easier. Watching him as he fell for Nesta’s every glance, every touch, every word that escaped her mouth seemed to throw him deeper and deeper into a trance. And she was fine with that, and accepted it. Accepted that she would never be the object of his softened glances, his featherlight touches, his-

Her thoughts halted as Cassian stormed into the room, frustration radiating off him in waves. She glanced up from her book, her eyes immediately catching the tension etched onto his features. Without a word, she closed her book and shifted, making room for him on the couch.

Cassian collapsed beside her, his movements rough yet familiar. He stretched out, his feet finding their place on her lap almost instinctively. Y/N didn't flinch; instead, she settled into the comfortable silence, waiting for Cassian to speak.

"It's Nesta," he finally muttered, his voice heavy with frustration. "Training with her…it was like walking on eggshells. One wrong move, and she was tearing into me with those ice-cold eyes."

She listened attentively, her gaze soft as she absorbed his words. "It was like she was always testing me," Cassian continued, his voice growing softer with each word. "Pushing me to my limits, making me question everything I thought I knew about myself."

Her fingers instinctively started to massage his feet as he spoke. It was a small gesture, one born out of years of friendship and trust. Cassian didn't protest; instead, he leaned back against the cushions, allowing the soothing touch to ease the tension from his muscles.

As the minutes stretched on, their conversation ebbed and flowed, the weight of Cassian's burdens slowly lifting with each passing moment. Y/N listened, offering words of comfort when needed, but mostly content to provide silent support.

Cassian's breathing eventually evened out, his body relaxing against the cushions. Y/N glanced down to find him fast asleep, his features softened by the serenity of slumber. She smiled softly, her heart swelling with affection.

Suddenly, chains, bolts, and locks shifted, loosening, their weight growing just a little more tolerable. A soul peeked through. Broken, scarred, and trembling — with fear, she realized, but it stretched further and further. Yearning, searching.

It was as though a tether had snapped into place, an invisible thread binding her to Cassian in a way she had never felt before. Confusion flickered as she processed the intensity of the connection, the undeniable pull drawing her closer to him.

She was aware that this was not happening in the slightest. A mind trick. A dream, she thought. betraying once, the jolt of real-time that pushed through her. Burning her cheeks and stealing her breath. How the waking world slipped past the knobby parts of her fingers like a whisper, barely there, because dreaming was just a fancier word for getting lost. It held her there, suspended in imagination and for every second, it felt real. Like she could grasp the outlines and the textures. Like she could touch the weather, drink the clouds, and taste the sunlight.

The gods who had her in a chokehold withdrew.

Death feared her too, it seemed.

He was soaring in the air, and she was on the ground. She tried to reach him but he was far, far out of her reach. Seconds ticked by, and then minutes, and every thought that tried to sneak its way in, through this thick veil, bounced off and dissipated into thin air.

Because she then remembered… that beautiful things shouldn’t be broken. And she had a knack for breaking things.

The soft rays of dawn streamed through the windows of the House of Wind, casting a warm glow over the sitting room where she and Cassian had fallen asleep. As she stirred from her slumber, she found herself alone on the couch, the imprint of Cassian's presence still lingering in the air. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, her mind foggy with the remnants of… dreams? Visions? She felt as though the very fabric of her existence had been torn asunder, leaving her adrift in a sea of uncertainty, but when has that ever stopped her?

So she stood on the ground and longed.

part II here >>

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starlight-writer · 11 months

Text

Randomly Cuddling Them

A/n: Hahaha hiiii (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）it's meeeee I'm baaaaack In all seriousness, I've been dealing with a shit ton of stuff and summer depression is kicking my ass. I'm sorry I haven't posted in ages even when I promised I would, I just haven't been able to motivate myself to write. I won't promise you guys a schedule or another fic anytime soon, but I will say that I have no intentions of deleting this blog or stopping writing all together. Just be patient with me and to those who have requested things, I'm sorry I haven't answered them. They'll all come in due time :) In the meantime, have some fluff to make you forget about your depression.

Warnings: none, fluff, slight angst(?)

Gn Reader Masterlist

Steven

Welcomes the cuddle with open arms

He'll ask if you’re ok a few times, just wanting to make sure his darling is feeling well

He'll pet your hair and start talking about his day or a new book he's read to fill the silence

"You wouldn't believe the ending though! The main character has to sacrifice his "

Just sort of talks about anything to fill the comfortable silence, hoping it'll distract you from anything that's stressing you out

Definitely playfully brags to Jake and Marc in the headspace during and after the cuddles

"They wanted to cuddle with me :D"

Once you're ready to pull away, he'll give you a kiss on the forehead and continue reading or whatever it was before, but keeps an eye on you

He isn't sure what brought on the cuddles, and while he loves them, he wants to make sure you're ok

If you start looking upset or frustrated with a task, he'll gently pull you away from whatever you're doing and sit you on the couch

"Lovey, you can finish it later, just sit with me for a bit yeah?"

He'll pull you into his chest and read aloud from his book or ramble about something to distract you

He'll play with your fingers, interlacing them and kissing your finger tips before holding your hand to his face

"Love you, darling"

He'll say in the sweetest voice, you'll forget all about the stresses of the day or the stresses of tomorrow

Mission accomplished

Marc

He's a little caught off guard, but pulls you into his arms eagerly

He'll never turn down cuddles (cough touch starved cough)

He'll run his fingers through your hair or rub his hand up and down your back

He'll ask if you're ok, but won't push past that

He'll stay silent unless you ask him to talk

"Uh... I saw a lizard earlier today. It reminded me of you cause it was cute :)"

He's trying his best

If you stay in his arms for a long period of time, he'll start to think something might be wrong so he'll start making really really bad jokes

"I went to the deli earlier and the sausage they gave me was the wurst :D"

He won't stop until you laugh and he's not above tickling you until you pee your pants

It's like he unlocks a little box inside his head of terrible jokes and playfulness just for the purpose of seeing you smile

After the cuddles session, he'll watch over you carefully

If you start looking stressed or tired or anything but relaxed, he'll pop off with another joke

"Ya know, babe, I used to hate facial hair. But then it grew on me."

Is that a frown on your perfect lips? Not on his watch

"I don't think I told you this before, but I used to be able to play piano by ear. Now I have to play it with my hands."

Eventually, if you start looking too stressed, he'll just pull you into another cuddle session

"Can't have my baby getting stressed."

He'll explain, kissing you on the forehead and shushing you if you try to leave

He'll carry you to bed or the couch, locking you underneath him with his head on your chest

"So comfy, might just fall asleep here."

He snores loudly, trying to coax a giggle or two out of you

And when you fall asleep from the warmth he gives off, he'll watch you with love in his eyes

"Goodnight, babe. I love you."

Jake

There're two ways this could go depending on how he feels

He could be very smug about it, hold you tightly to his chest, mutter things like 'poor bebito/a, so needy for their Papi~' and make sexual or teasing jokes to lighten the mood

Or he could hold you securely in his arms, run his fingers across your back, occasionally kiss your head, and ask in a hushed voice 'what's wrong, mi amor?'

He thrives on physical affection, so either way he's incredibly happy to give it to you

Whether it be a quick kiss, setting his hand on the small of your back as he walks by, resting his hand on your thigh as he drives, or just touching your knee with his in a crowded space, he loves all of it

And depending on why you suddenly held onto him, he'll be very attentive

If he's making jokes when you just want to be held, he'll pick up in it right away and mutter a small apology with a kiss

He'll hum a song he heard on the radio, he'll keep his breathing long and slow to help calm you down if needed, he'll even read you one of Steven's 'boring' books

He's like Marc in a way, they'll both do absolutely everything in their power to make you smile or laugh if the situation calls for it

If you've gotten your fill of cuddles and start to pull away, he'll pout and pull you back down, muttering something about feeling cold without you on top of him

Which is a lie, they run extremely hot which has cancelled many cuddle sessions in the summer because 'It's too hot, Jake! And don't give me those puppy eyes!'

He refuses to let you go until you explicitly tell him you want him to

He'll act all sad, but he lets you go after a passionate kiss

Openly watches you closely afterwards, determined to see any slip of annoyance or frustration so he can whisk you away to your shared room and cuddle the stress away

And the second your brow twitches in frustration, he's coming up behind you and hugging you

"Bebito/a, dance with me."

He'll say, already swaying to the music playing in his head

He'll spin you around and subtly drag you away from the chore or work you were doing with a charming smile and his swaying hips

When you've rested your head on his chest and sigh softly, following the shuffling of his feet and sway of his hips, he knows he's succeeded in calming you down

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starlightinhumanform · 1 year

Text

I had this friend and I would sleepover at her house so often it just made more sense for me to sleep in her bed. It was big enough for both of us. But I would wake up in the middle of the night (I was always a light sleeper) and think about putting my leg over hers and holding her back close to my chest. I would think about brushing the hair out of her face. I thought it was normal. I loved her so goddamn much, even though even though it was unhealthy, even though it was codependent. We we're two snakes eating each others tails. Even though she treated me like shit. Even when she pushed me against the lockers because I walked with someone else instead of her. I had her eyes memorized, had mapped the flecks of gray in the blue.

We stopped talking in high school but I learned from another girl (who had the same name as her) that the first boy she loved cheated on her. But I think we all know he wasn't really the first.

I came over so often I still know where the spoons are in her kitchen. I know the layout of her house and the way one of the closest doors doesn't shut right. Her parents always loved me. I was witty and smart, but I knew when to shut up and act timid. I was what they never trained their daughter to do. I was what their daughter trained me to do. Her parents have gotten divorced since then. They've probably moved out of that house. The hinge on the closet door has probably been fixed. But it's still broken to me.

I would tell jokes I thought were stupid, just to see her laugh. I know the roundness of her cheeks and the thickness of her hair and how her lips always looked soft. When my lips were chapped, she would offer me Vaseline. There was a specific type of chapstick I used when I loved her; I still can't stand the scent today.

For a long time, I hated her. I hated the way she made me feel about myself and the things she did to me. Most of all I hated that I couldn't stop loving her. But I love the person I am today and she had a hand in that creation. She shaped me and molded me and forced me to grow past her. The soft clay of my body is dented with uncountable handprints; many of them are hers.

Sometimes I wonder about her. I wonder if I even touched her at all.

#free write #queer #queer teen experience #recovery #free form writing #prose #original prose #spilled love #spilled words #my wiritng #starlight writes #q 4 u #ask to add tws

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redheadspark · 3 months

Note

Prompt #2 with Azriel

Pls.

A/N - BEAUTIFUL! Thanks for requesting this, anon!

Time

Summary - Azriel never thought he had the time for someone. Cassian disagrees.

Warnings - Just some cute fluff

“Come on, Az. Let’s talk about.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Of course, there is!”

Az looked up from his makeshift desk, which was basically a piece of plywood that was blanking on top of two crates on either end. He would get a better desk, or a legit desk if he wished to. But he would rather use what he had than pay some money for something new and something he would barely use. Maybe he was frugal, but he would rather be frugal than far too comfortable. It was a running joke with the Inner Circle, how little Azriel would spend, and how he hated the concept of money. Rhsyand was the opposite, though he used his spending on good things and for the better of those he loved. Cassian just needed to learn how to handle money in general, if he was left to his own devices he would be broke within seconds.

There, in his little broom closet of an office at the Townhouse, Azriel saw Cassian grin at him as he placed his pen down and kept his intense stare on Cassian, “I am far too busy for anything apart from work, especially with our upcoming negotiations with Tamlin and Spring Court.”

“Psh, that’s child’s play, and that dirtbag of a Highlord is nothing we can’t handle,” Cassian replied with a wave of his hand, “We have more important things at hand, including your love life.”

Azriel snorted and took his pen again, looking down at his paperwork that was in need of a look over and he scanned the paperwork once again.

“That is nonexistent,” Azriel explained.

“And that is the problem, especially since there is a clear candidate that can change that for you,” Cassian teased. Azriel said nothing, but he knew exactly who Cassian was talking about. It was the same person that was on the other’s mind who would be perfect for the Spymaster, the calm to his storm and the peace to his chaos.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about,” Azriel hummed, writing a bit before flipping another page.

“Bullshit you don’t,” Cassian joked, “Being in a relationship and with someone you love actually makes someone…oh, I don’t know….more likable,”

“I don’t have time for a relationship—“ Azriel was about to say to him before Cassian clicked his tongue.

“That has nothing to do with anything I just said. Like at all!” He said back to the Spymaster. Azriel had to pause then and look at the Illyrian Commander. Cassian gave him a stern look, the kind that Azriel would get when he made a bonehead move. Sometimes things did go over Ariel’s head from time to time, he was never one to pick up on regular social clues. Perhaps he was too wired to be the Spymaster to simply be himself…what was himself anyway?

Having a social life was never really part of his life, not for how long he was working with and for Rhysand. He was far too busy to have downtime or hang out with friends, apart from the Inner Circle. That was different, that was built on deep and intense relationships and friendships that made and shaped him. But love? Was there love meant for him? Was there love meant to be in his life?

Did he want it? Now that he thought about it.

“She’s coming over tonight for family dinner. Nesta invited her, and as someone who will not go against his mate, I think it’s a great time to introduce yourself to her,” Cassian advised Azriel, who then leaned back in his chair and thought about it. He did see you from time to time, you were good friends with Nesta since you asked Rhysand and Feyre to help start up the Velaris library. You too were a bookworm, you loved reading books and saving the volumes that held history and stories that were meant to be told for centuries. Of course, Rhysand agreed and gave the funding, along with the connections to build and jump-start the library. Within months, Velaris Public Library opened to all the Velaris citizens and it was an instant hit.

Azriel was there at the Opening Ceremony, seeing you beaming in pride as you spoke in front of the spectators. Nesta was a partner in the project, standing next to you and clutching your hand in excitement since she too was enthralled with the notion of a library in Velaris. Azriel was entranced by you from the start, there was no argument there. But he also saw the thirst for preserving history and wanting to know more. He loved that fire, that spirit, and yet it was laced with sincerity and kindness that was rare to see in the broken world around them.

“Come on, Az. Live a little,” Cassian urged, to which Azriel finally cracked a smile.

“Oh, there you are Azriel! Come meet the guest of honor!”

“Honestly, I’m no guest of honor, Nesta.”

"Yes, you are! This is Azriel, the Spymaster himself. Azriel, come meet Y/N!"

You were sitting on one of the loveseats, holding a glass of wine in hand as Azriel came into the sitting room of the House of Wind. After his talk with Cassian, Azriel felt as if he should be the one to officially meet you, though he was giving him some fear since he only knew you from afar. He even tried to dress up decently, in a dress shirt and pants with his hair styled to be less rugged and more formal. Perhaps he looked like he was trying too much, but at least he was putting in the effort.

You were wearing a simple cream dress, though it was showing your curves in the right spots, and a shawl over your shoulders since there was still a bit of a chill in the air in Velaris. Your hair, long and thick, was half up and down in a messy style but it suited you. Azriel’s heart skipped for a long moment, you smiling up at him as you got up from the loveseat. You two were smiling at one another, not noticing Nesta and Cassian watching from the side and somewhat hiding behind a pillar with their own smiles plastered on their faces.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” You said to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. He took it instantly, your palms connecting and warmth was felt along your skin.

“You as well,” He said, your smile growing slightly.

“See, told you that they were meant for each other!” Nesta whispered to Cassian as they watched you and Azriel sit together on the loveseat and start a conversation.

“I know, baby. I know,” Cassian hummed, kissing his mate on the cheek.

The End.

January Prompt Session

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silverstarlightwrites · 2 years

Text

Just started publishing this! It was meant to be a ficlet, but then it became 98 pages and over 60k long, soooooo. This is what I spent the last month writing instead of the next fatlb chapter, but oh well. It's completed, and goes up Wednesday and Saturday until fully published.

Hope y'all like vampires, and also intense amounts of authorial spite

#StarlightLion #Starlight Writes #In the Dead of Night #fanfic #Naruto #Ao3 #update #Gonna not subtle mention For All Those Left Behind #without the straight tag because it's not directly about fatlb

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hellodarling1357 · 3 months

Text

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts? (Cassian x Reader) - Part 4

Here it is!! The 4th (and possibly final) part of Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts?

If anyone wants to see anything else out of this fic, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to write it! But for now I’m going to focus on working through the requests that have been sent in and outlining another (much longer) Cassian x Reader fic that I’ve been thinking about for a while now!

You can read part one, two and three here if you need to catch up ❤️

Word Count: 2.6k

You blindly pushed your way through the crowd, no real destination in mind, you just needed to get away from everyone. Away from him.

There was no chance of holding back your tears now and you inwardly cringed at the scene you were making as the crowd of gaping people watched and parted for you.

“Y/N.”

The shout of your name had a quiet sob escaping from your lips and the murmured apologies that came from behind told you that Cassian was chasing after you.

Bursting onto the, thankfully empty, balcony you heaved a breath as you lent against the banister, trying to stop the trembles that coursed over your body.

“Y/N,” Cassian shut the door behind him, preventing the onlookers from watching the scene play out. “What’s going on? What was that?”

You couldn’t find the words, so instead just shook your head as the tears fell, refusing to meet his eye.

Sensing him now standing beside you, you flinched when his arm lifted up and wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closely into his side as he gently caressed the bare skin of your arm. Cassian didn’t know what was wrong but he was damned sure going to at least try to offer you some comfort. But when you let out a cold, disbelieving laugh and stepped out of his grip, Cassian’s brows furrowed, his worry, concern and confusion amplified by your dismissal.

“Don’t,” your voice croaked and your body missed the momentary warmth he had provided. “It’s not fair, Cassian. You know how I… Look, I’m happy for you, truely I am. But I can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt. I just, I need some space.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears again as you stared out across the sprawled city of Velaris, desperately trying to keep yourself together, not being able to bear the thought of Cassian seeing you crumble even further apart.

“I don’t understand,” Cassian’s voice was laced in question. “Can’t pretend what doesn’t hurt? Y/N, if I’ve done something then I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you need to tell me what it is because I’m coming up blank here. Hels, we haven’t even properly seen each other since…” He trailed off, running a hand through his hair, as if remembering what he had drunkenly said before it had all spiralled out of control.

Still leaning against the balcony, eyes squeezed tightly shut, you didn’t notice Cassian edging closer to stand beside you again until he gently took your hand in his.

“Y/N, if it’s about what I said the other night, it doesn’t have to change anything. You’re right, I was drunk, really drunk, and now that—“

You ripped your hand away from his, not wanting to hear what you assumed would be “…and now that Evalina is back.”

“Just go away, Cass.” You finally turned to face him, just barely witnessing his crestfallen expression change into one of shock and frustration as he let out a huff.

“I know it was unexpected, but you don’t have to act like I’ve—“

“Like you’ve what, Cassian? Like you suddenly, out of the blue decide to tell me that you love me? And then, what? Not even 24 hours later, you and Evalina are walking arm in arm down the Sidra.”

“What does Evalina have to do with any of this?”

Cassian could understand why you would be angry about what he had confessed to you that night. Hels, the fear of his feelings getting in the way of your friendship is what stopped him from saying anything earlier. But even though your rejection of him being anything more than a friend was apparent, he didn’t have any regrets about finally putting everything out in the open. At least now that he knew where you stood, he could have a chance of moving on instead of living for the blind hope that soared within him at every smile and glance you sent his way.

Despite all of this, he was still completely thrown at the mention of his ex’s name, not quite understanding how it played a part in you being mad about him admitting his feelings. You, however, just continued in your outburst, not even registering Cassian’s interjection.

“And the worst bit about all of this is that it’s my fault” You let out a sad laugh at the realisation. “If I had just heard you out the other morning, let you explain and tell me for yourself, then I wouldn’t have been letting myself get my hopes up that you actually felt the same way, wouldn’t be thinking that maybe we could actually work, after all these years, only to find out, from Evalina of all people, what had happened.”

Cassian swiped his thumb over your cheek, wiping away your tears, the gesture bringing your rant to a standstill as you stared at him with wide eyes.

The confusion slowly ebbed away as Cassian started to piece together what you were saying, that this whole mess had just been a stupid misunderstanding from both of you. Still, he needed to hear you say it, needed to hear what had taken shape in your mind which was so, so far from the truth.

As that glimmer of hope flickered back to life, Cassian softly asked, “What do you mean by what had happened, Y/N? What does Evalina have to do with this?”

You looked at him as though he had been hit over the head, not understanding why he was forcing you to say the words that had your mouth feeling like sandpaper and caused your heart to feel as though it were being torn apart.

“That you and Evalina realised you were mates?” You slowly said in confusion, before hurriedly saying, so as not to take away from your friend’s happiness, “Look, I’m happy for you. I really am. But, gods Cass, I’m not going to lie, I’ve been so deeply in love with you for years now, and I thought you meant what you said to me, and then finding out it’s actually Evalina…I think I just need some time...”

And there it was.

Rhys and Azriel had been telling him for years to get his shit together because you obviously felt the same way, but not once did he think it could actually be true.

The wide grin that spread across Cassian’s face had you balking, sure, the mating bond could make those involved get overly intense when it comes to their mate, especially at the beginning. But you would’ve thought that he would be somewhat courteous of your feelings after bearing your heart to him.

“Y/N, are you jealous?”

You blinked at him, silenced by his blunt and sudden question as feelings of shock and enragement coursed through you at his blatant arrogance.

“Fuck you, Cassian.”

Letting out a disbelieving scoff, you turned on your heel back towards the party, trying to decide on whether you should find Mor and let her assist you in drinking away your sorrows, or slipping away so that you could cry yourself to sleep.

Your foot had lifted a mere inch off the ground before a strong hand was circling your wrist and spinning you back around.

The intensity of Cassian’s expression left you breathless, his eyes frantically scanning over your face, searching for the answer to an unasked question.

He must’ve found what he was looking for, for no less than a second later, his other hand was cupping your face before pulling you against him and pressing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

You let yourself get lost in the feel of his mouth and the closeness of his body. A small moan left you as all thoughts disappeared, leaving your mind vacant of everything that wasn’t the male in front of you.

Finally breaking the kiss, Cassian lent his forehead against yours as he took in deep breaths, unable to contain his grin or control his breathing, especially at the sight of you before him.

You kept your eyes squeezed tightly shut, the pounding of your heart and your breath mixing with Cassian’s stealing you of all your senses as your mind tried to play catch up.

“Cass…what?”

But his deep chuckle reverberated through you before he pressed another kiss to your lips, the corner of your mouth, your cheek, your forehead, as though he couldn’t get enough of you, until finally…

“She’s not my mate.”

Your blank stare prompted him to repeat what he had said, grin still very much present as he rubbed his hands up and down your arms.

“Evalina. She’s not my mate—“

“But—“

Another kiss silenced you before he continued with a pointed look, telling you to let him finish.

“I don’t know what you saw the other day, but we bumped into each other at one of the markets, she’s just moved back from Dawn and we figured it was about time we talked and cleared the air.”

“But she said you were mates?”

This time Cassian pressed a kiss to the top of your head before leading you over to one of the bench seats that overlooked Velaris, softly taking your hands before explaining.

“No, she said she had found her mate. We saw the two of you talking earlier, I just assumed you already knew.”

“Who?” You asked before the pieces clicked into place, Evalina had just moved back from the Dawn Court…

“Bryn? From that new bar? They’re mates?”

“Yes, they are.” Another chuckle escaped him at your expression.

“Oh.”

Cassian gently nudged you with his shoulder, looking at you expectantly. But you still couldn’t entirely wrap your head around everything.

“Evalina and Bryn are mates?”

“Yes.” Cassian repeated in a bemused tone.

“But they’re so different,” You hadn’t realised you had said it aloud but Cassian just laughed in agreement, his thumb rubbing circles into your hand as he tried to get you to focus so that you could talk about where the two of you stood.

“The way she said it, she just seemed so smug…”

Cassian let out a small groan as a memory resurfaced.

“Well, she did overhear you and Mor talking about her once, something about her slim chances of even having a mate...” You paled at that, the pair of you had never openly shown your dislike for the female out of respect for Cassian, but after a few drinks you both tended to get loud and opinionated…

“Fuck, Cass, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make her feel… Shit, I knew I must’ve done something to make her not like me.”

Again, Cassian laughed and waved off your apology.

“Y/N it was over twenty year ago, trust me, it’s fine. Besides,” He trailed off, a sheepish expression crossing his features as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I might’ve been the reason she didn’t particularly…warm up to you.”

Not warming up to you was putting it lightly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she always had a suspicion, it used to drive me crazy, probably because I wouldn’t let myself admit it, but she was convinced there was something going on between us.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at that. Right. You still had to have that conversation, you just hoped you hadn’t scared him off with how you reacted earlier…

“You’re actually sort of the reason we broke up.”

Now it was Cassian’s turn to blush, his cheeks opting for a pink hue as he stared at the ground, refusing to meet your eye.

“Cass?” You gently asked. You had always wondered what had happened but never wanted to push him, their final fight had been explosive.

“Do you remember, you and Mor were going to see that play but last minute she couldn’t make it so you asked me to go with you instead?” You nodded. It had been so long ago but you would never forget that day.

“Turns out, I’d forgotten that Evalina and I were meant to get dinner that night,” Cassian seemed to hesitate before continuing. “For her birthday.”

Oh, well that made sense. After the play you had grabbed a late lunch, which turned into afternoon drinks that stretched well past midnight. Nothing had happened between the two of you, but keeping him away from her on her birthday… You knew how that would seem if Evalina already had doubts.

Noticing the slight cringe on your face, Cassian heaved a sigh.

“That’s not even the worst of it. When I got back, she was waiting up for me and I tried to make it up to her but,” Leaning forward, Cassian let out another embarrassed breath, still refusing to meet your eye. “I…I might’ve accidentally let your name slip out during... And, well, we broke up that night.”

You were stunned into silence, your cheeks turning red at the thought. Cauldron, no wonder Cassian never delved into the details surrounding the breakup. At least Evalina had since found her mate, you and Cassian’s tangled mess a long forgotten detail of her past.

However, you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. The reality of the whole situation came crashing down as you realised how much time you had both wasted.

“So even back then?”

Cassian looked at you, question dancing in his eyes that prompted you to continue.

“So even back then, you were in love with me?” You nudged his shoulder with your own before turning back to face the view of the city, hoping to hide your overwhelming grin.

“Long before then, Y/N…” He trailed off, voice filled with emotion as his hand softly came up to cup your jaw, turning you back to face him.

Words wouldn’t be able to capture the feelings and emotions you felt in that moment, so instead you simply whispered, “Good to know.”

You raised your hand to cup his cheek, softly caressing the stubble that lingered, your other hand tightened around his as you tilted your face up to meet his lips in a soft kiss, hoping to convey all the thoughts you couldn’t yet say.

*****

The two of you lost track of time, only breaking apart at the distant sounds of awe that filtered through the night.

Looking up, you watched on as the first few stars flittered across the sky, the music from the band inside trailing out to the balcony as the brigade of colours danced across the darkness overhead.

You quickly jumped up, turning to face Cassian, whose face was filled with adoration as he watched you, and grasped his hands to pull him up alongside you as you made your way to the edge of the balcony.

Cassian stood behind you, his muscled arms wrapping around your body as he pulled you tightly against him, his face half concealed in your hair as he watched the stars fly across the sky in silence, content in witnessing this moment with you by his side.

After a moment, you leant back even further against him, turning your head to place a kiss against his neck.

“In case you missed it before,” You whispered, “I love you too.”

“Good to know.”

His words were a mock whisper of what you had said earlier, but the smile that was still present as he tilted your face closer to meet his had butterflies swarming your stomach.

The kiss was filled wish such passion and love that it left you mourning for the time you had missed together, but longing for what was yet to come.

*****

Wooooo love our miscommunicative king and queen but at least they got there in the end. Of course Evalina wasn’t going to get in the way of a happy ending 🥲

Again, if you have any one shot requests for this particular series (or any requests for that matter), my inbox is always open.

Idk, maybe it can be about whether or not Cassian and reader are mates, some Starfall smut, or a little throwback to Cassian and Evalina breaking up because of Cass’ little slip up, I really loved that detail aha! The options are endless….

Thank you so much for reading 🥰

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 10 months

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Hello, I'm so sorry that you're having a mopey day today :(( But honestly I'm having one today too... I would love to read some fluffy fic, maybe some teenage!Rhys×reader where they are acting like stupid teenagers in love. Or maybe something with Az where reader is a shadowsinger too and they are fooling around and using their shadows to prank the IC. I don't know, these are just some ideas that popped randomly in my head so don't feel pressured to write anything. Anyway wish you best and I hope you will feel better soon 💗

Thanks, lovie! 💕Hope this is okay and cheers you up a little! I feel like I’m not very good at fluff but I did my best 🤣 thank you for sending it in! Enjoy 💕

Forget Me Not — (Rhysand x Reader)

"You'll be High Lord someday."

"I will."

Rhysand rested his chin on your leg, violet eyes peering up at you. In the balmy evening light, he looked resplendent, the sun offsetting the golden hue of his skin. You found your fingers absentmindedly tracing the shape of his lips, the brush of his lashes.

"Things will change when you're High Lord." You brushed his floppy hair from his eyes. "We will change. Our relationship."

At just nineteen, it was hard enough to navigate such a serious, intense relationship. You hadn't expected to fall so madly in love a year earlier, when your court — the Summer Court — had received the High Lord of the Night Court and his son as guests; a plan, you'd learned, to strengthen the relations between the Solar Courts and Seasonal Courts. The High Lord's son, Rhysand, had been nothing but charming and chivalrous. But you hadn't expected him to so much as notice you, as a mere a servant to the High Lord of Summer. When you'd served Rhysand a drink, and those violet eyes had met yours like they were staring into your soul, you knew immediately — you would never want anybody as fiercely as you wanted him.

Too bad that he was a future High Lord, and you a nobody.

It had been unexpected, to say the least, that he'd sought you out. Asked you to show him around the court whilst his father and your High Lord engaged in dull meetings. He'd made you laugh and seemed genuinely interested in knowing you. And when he'd returned to the Night Court, he'd promised to come back and see you again.

Which he had. And thus had begun a year of secret meetings and the thrilling adventure of falling in love. You knew Rhysand's father would never approve. You knew Rhys would one day be in a charge of his court, and not have the luxury of sneaking off to see you for a few hours, sometimes an entire night.

There was a time limit on your relationship, and that thought had begun to plague you more and more recently.

Rhys reached out, pressing your hand against his cheek. "Change doesn't always have to be bad."

"It will be the worst kind of change if we can't see each other anymore."

Rhys sighed softly, rolling onto his back. You knew he didn't want to spend your precious time together talking about such things; neither did you. You wished you could stay like this forever, sprawled out in the sweet-smelling meadow that had become your place to meet him. The thought of this place being empty of your love, your laughter, your conversation, made you teary.

"Please don't cry, my love." Rhys scooted closer. He tugged you until you were slotting between his legs, his front pressed to your back. "Why are you letting this bother you now?

Tears dropped onto your lap as you glanced down. "This past year is the happiest I've ever been."

A kiss was pressed to your shoulder. "Me, too."

"But you will be a High Lord. And of a court I don't even live in. You will be the most important member of your court, and I'm nothing but a servant. I feel like soon enough, you're just going to forget me. That you ever loved me."

You felt the way his body went rigid against you. After a pause, his warm arms slid around your waist, his face burying into the crook of your neck. He seemed to inhale your scent slowly. Desperately.

"Do you truly think I could ever forget you?" He murmured. "I remember the first second I caught a glimpse of you. You were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. Still are."

You gave a watery laugh. "So beautiful in my old, ratty clothes."

"Your hair was in a loose braid, and when you leaned down to serve me my drink, a strand came free of the plait. I felt so compelled to reach out and tuck it behind your ear. And I thought your eyes could give this court's sunrise a run for its money. So bright and brilliant. Your cheeks were flushed, and you smiled at every single person, despite most of them straight up ignoring you. You were the most exquisite person in that room, and I couldn't look away from you."

You turned slightly in his arms, just enough to meet his gaze. "You noticed all of those things?"

A lopsided smile tugged at his lips. "Why do you think I tried so hard to get a message to you that I wanted to meet with you? I couldn't let you walk away. At least not without learning your name first. I certainly didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to have you love me back."

You studied his remarkable face, noting every emotion, every thought, that he wore freely. For nobody other than you. You'd memorised that face as much as you possibly could so that when he wasn't around, you could close your eyes and picture him. His brilliant smile. The way his eyes roved happily over you. Sometimes, you could lay in bed and hear his laugh.

"Just...just promise me." You pressed your forehead against his. "Promise me that one day, when you're High Lord...even if you can't be with me anymore, you won't forget me. I couldn't bear you forgetting me."

Rhys's strong hand moved up to cup your jaw. There was no chance to read the look in his eyes before he was leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss started out gentle. Soft. The kind of tentative kisses you first shared in the early days of your relationship. Rhys's thumb brushed the line of your cheekbone, his mouth caressing yours.

But then his tongue was parting the seam of your lips and sliding into your mouth to intertwine with yours. Your mingling tastes had you sighing softly in satisfaction and angling yourself towards him further, one of your hands naturally reaching up to twine within the strands of his hair.

Somehow, you ended up in his lap, his lips working feverishly against yours in a hungry kiss. It was just the two of you in that meadow — the two of you and your love, that nobody — not even the High Lord of the Night Court — could take away from you. You would love him forever and always, no matter the distance, the social standing, the outside opinions.

Only when you were both panting for breath did Rhys tear his mouth from yours. You breathed heavily against each other's lips, your foreheads pressed together.

"Here." Rhys murmured deeply, quietly. "This is for you."

You pulled back just enough to glance down at the hand he held between you. You frowned down at the two tiny, blue flowers he pinched between his fingers. When he'd picked them, you weren't sure.

"A flower?" You were still battling to catch your breaths. "For me?"

"One for you and one for me." Rhys said. "They're Forget-Me-Nots. I'll spell them to forever stay fresh. And as long as we both have these, we know we'll never forget one another."

You blinked away tears as he tucked the flower into the strands of your hair, before leaning in to kiss you again.

"Always and forever, my heart." He whispered.

You nodded vigorously, cupping his cheek. "Always and forever."

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