-`star´-

digital diary | 21 | do you think it’s forever? ➳♡

[matchakittycatt]

݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁·ꕤ M A S T E R L I S T ꕤ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁·

⋆˚࿔ ronin beaufort - killer chat! ⋆˚࿔

the fate of ophelia - one

the fate of ophelia - two

the fate of ophelia - three

the fate of ophelia - four

⋆˚࿔ corbeau - pokémon ⋆˚࿔

ruin the friendship

⋆˚࿔ griselle - pokémon ⋆˚࿔

juno

[matchakittycatt]

₊˚ʚ juno ʚ˚ ₊

.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

tags - griselle x female reader

warnings - nsfw! cunnilingus, use of sex toys, mutual masturbation, almost caught fucking

summary - in the middle of the saving lumoise from catastrophe a second time, a much needed rest is deserved and who are you to say no when your favourite red head wants to indulge you?

author’s note - my hot lesbian wife needs more fics and if no one else is gonna write them i’ll just do it myself! fic heavily inspired by this song

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

you groaned, stretching softly as the dull ache of your back seemed to relieve. you were worn out behind belief. corbeau and vinnie had you running around lumoise dealing with hyperspace portals that popped up.

despite clearing them with ease you hadn’t entirely realised the toll it was taking on your body, all your muscles throbbed. every inch of your body was sore and you found yourself, more often than not, dragging yourself into bed.

in the past, if you had ever needed a pick me up you would always visit your favourite barista and order your favourite coffee as her shift was ending. despite her rough exterior, griselle had a heart of gold even if you needed an autopsy to see it.

she took good care of you in the interim periods, in time and spaces where you could allow yourself a few hours of tranquility. despite the fact you usually had to bribe her brother to leave their shared apartment the time you spent with her was heaven on earth.

today was no different, there was a cool warmth in the air as you headed over to cafe nouveau, few customers sat on the benches surrounding the truck. grisham and griselle stood inside, bustling over the espresso machine and pouring their divine coffee into small plastic cups.

the current customer offered polite thank you’s before taking her cup and leaving, you stepped up to the counter. “say, i’ll have my usual dark roast.” griselle spun on her heel, a delightful grin on her face as she leaned over the counter and captured you lips.

despite the kiss being quick it sent you spiralling, grisham cleared his throat and handed you the cup of coffee, smiling awkwardly as he did. he always hated when griselle would practically make out with you across the counter, he said it ruined the ‘ambience’ of the cafe.

you took your cup and plopped yourself down at your usual bench, fletchling’s flew above your head whistling as they drifted across the breeze. the familiar slam of the cafe’s shutters pulled you from your trance.

griselle beamed as she bounced over to you, her blonde hair swaying as she did. “you ready?” she swung the keys to her apartment with her fingers as she dragged you up and across town to her apartment.

you had assumed grisham had gotten the memo and had gone to busy himself with something while you spent some quality time with griselle. you had arrived at her place, she stuck her keys in the door and jangled the door open, throwing you inside.

slamming the door behind her she immediately threw her shirt and bra onto the floor. she shoved her keys onto the kitchen table and smashed her lips against yours, she raked her hands through your hair, tugging it as she did not enough to hurt you but enough to make you moan.

you haphazardly walked across the landing, still locking lips with griselle. she fumbled with the door handle and you both tumbled into the room. you scrambled onto the bed, legs open as she slotted herself between them.

she practically ripped your shirt off, tugging your bra off alongside it. she let out a weak wolf whistle before ducking her head into your chest and sucking contently on your nipples. you whined as she swapped between both breasts, you ran your hands across her shoulders, massaging them gently.

she hauled herself away from you causing you to whimper at the loss of warmth. “don’t worry pretty girl, there’s more where that came from.” she smirked cockily. “now lose the pants, yeah?”

you nodded eagerly, shrugging your pants off and idly flinging them onto the floor. lying there in just your underwear griselle looked at you with fire in her eyes, you stared down at you like a pyroar about to devour their prey and it made your knees weak.

she wiggled down the bed and kissed the inside of your thighs before taking the top of your underwear between her teeth and pulling them down, she did this every time but it sent you under every single time.

pulling them off and placing them down with your pants she returned to her previous position and lined herself up with your pussy, her hot breath making your shiver as she began to lap at your clit.

you moaned loudly, pulling tufts of her hair as she sucked on your clit causing you to gasp and groan at the sensation. as she sucked, she slipped two fingers inside of you, surprised at just how wet you were from minimal foreplay.

she continued these motions for several minutes before moving away and returning to look at your, you looked like you were in absolute bliss, lips and eyes puffy, head thrown back against her pillow. if she had a camera on hand she would’ve taken a thousand pictures.

she stood up quickly, shimmying out of her pants and underwear before returning to the bed. clambering back on she sat before, legs spread wide and you watched with a deep rooted hunger as her pussy drooled before you.

“don’t you dare take your eyes off me.”

you nodded, throughly, watching eagerly as she took her fingers and began to rub circle into her clit, she threw her head back with pure pleasure as she groaned and moaned your name, profanities falling from her pretty lips every time she said it.

“touch yourself for me sweet girl.”

and who were you to deny her? you quickly placed your own fingers against your clit and followed her motions, tongue lolling out of your mouth as pleasure seeped deep into you bones, releasing any previous aches and pains.

all your hyperspace nonsense was far out of your mind all you could focus on was the girl fucking herself in front of you. she stopped abruptly, taking her fingers to her lips and sucking them so sultry, it almost made you orgasm there and then.

“come here.” you scooted closer to her, pressing your pussy against her own and began to grind against her, you knew how much she loved this and the more you did what she loved the more likely she was to fuck you into oblivion.

the squelching and sucking of your scissoring made your head spin, you couldn’t take much more of this before she pulled away and pushed you onto your back. she reached over and pulled out a bright orange dildo from the drawer of her bedside table alongside a small bottle of lubricant.

flipping off the cap, she spread a decent amount onto her hand and began to rub down the dildo, you drooled watching her do this, she couldn’t be sexier right now.

once she was satisfied she chucked the bottle onto the floor and pulled you by the ankle, bringing you closer to her. “you’ve been such a good girl for me today, now it’s time for your reward.” she brushed the tip of the dildo against your entrance, you could’ve cried from anticipation.

with practised precision, she slide the dildo inside of you, drunk off your pleasure, you threw your head back and let out a delirious moan. griselle moved closer to you, her sticky body hovering over yours as she began to pump the dildo in and out of you, whispering all her dirty thoughts into your ear.

your face began to contort, beads of sweat rolled down your body as griselle picked up the pace. she knew your body like the back of her hand and she knew just how close you were, she ducked down and began to suck on your nipples again causing you to shriek.

“come on sweet girl, i know how close you are.” you let out a shallow whine as she continued sucking, swapping breast occasionally. your hands moved to her back, clawing and scratching as you drew closer. you let out a final, deep groan as griselle thrusted the dildo into you one final time.

griselle removed it from you and threw it to the floor before embracing you, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “you did so well, thanks for coming to see me.” she smiled, a real genuine smile.

“well when the coffee and the sex is this good i can’t say no.” you shallowly laughed, snuggling into griselle’s blanket as the front door opened abruptly, keys slamming against the wooden kitchen table.

“i hope you’re done fucking by now.”

griselle snorted, quickly running to shut her bedroom door before joining you underneath the curtain covers. for a brief moment you considered coming to visit griselle after every hyperspace.

[matchakittycatt]

₊˚ʚ ruin the friendship ʚ˚ ₊

.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

tags - corbeau, gn! reader

warnings - angst with minimal comfort, major pokémon legends z-a spoilers, major character death

summary - corbeau pushes away the one person who sees past his walls, convinced distance will protect you, breaking your bond only would deepen old wounds and force him to face what he truly fears.

is it really better to ruin the friendship?

author’s note - want to enhance your reading experience? listen to the songs that inspired this story listen here

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

corbeau stood in his office, hands raking through his hair as he stared at the scattered papers underneath his loose hand, he would have begged arceus for any sort of distraction. he scrunched the papers tightly causing a few to tear at the sudden motion as his personal assistant and close friend, philippe, stepped through the doors.

“this better be worth my time - i’m swamped.”

“i have a visitor, here to clear some debts. i thought it might ring a bell to you.” he quickly looked up, his gaze immediately locking with yours. he placed both his hands on the mahogany table and stood sharply.

he walked round until he was standing in front of you, he stood barely a few inches above you but the domineering nature of his stance made him seem like a monster. he peered at you inquisitively almost as if you were the most interesting thing in the world to him.

“nice to see you came. i’m glad you can follow instructions, please take a seat.” he outstretched his hand and gestured to a plain, black leather sofa. you walked, the click of your shoes bounced across every wall in the office until you sunk into the supple leather.

“i’ll make this quick. your friends owe me a enormous debt of one million pokédollars.” your breath caught in your throat, surely he couldn’t he serious? what has taunie and urbain done to acquire such a large debt. “of course the interest has caused this to skyrocket.”

“now i assume you don’t have my money, am i correct?” you nodded rapidly. “i thought so - in my true kind and generous nature i have thought of a new way you can repay me. i want you to do some jobs for me.”

you grimaced at the thought, paying off such a ridiculous debt was bad enough but to become a glorified grunt for the rust syndicate was the last thing you wanted right now especially whilst trying to deal with the rouge mega’s across lumoise.

“i accept, when do i start the first job?” corbeau smiled, a truly wicked smile. in the time it took him to answer your mind ran with all the possibilities of what he could possibly make you do, from what lida and naveen had told you, you could be dabbling in all sorts of illegal business.

“that’s precisely what i wanted to hear, i will send you the co-ordinates for the first job and i’ll be sure to come and check in with you, i need to know you’re following through with your promises after all.” he leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees before placing his chin on his hands. “that will be on philippe, please show our newest member out.”

you stood without haste, quickly collecting your thoughts before walking out the large doors ans back into the courtyard. philippe offered you a brief but curt nod before returning inside.

the lights of lumoise twinkled as you drifted your way through the bleu district and back to hotel z. naveen and lida remained glued to the sofa’s seemingly untouched since you had left earlier.

“you’re back! they didn’t kill you!” lida flung herself from the chair and into your arms, resting her cheek against your shoulder. “how did it go?”

“well, i was somehow roped into doing the rust syndicate’s dirty laundry. instead of directly paying the debt they want me to do some ‘jobs’ for them.”

their faces warped with horror. “you can’t be serious.” naveen groaned. “how much debt exactly are we in?”

“one million pokèdollars-“

lida and naveen let out a mangled scream that even surprised az who had previously been stood peacefully behind his desk.

“i’m going to kill them! wait till taunie and urbain get here they’re dead!” lida cried, as if fate itself willed it, the doors to hotel z flung open and the troublesome twin walked inside sheepishly.

“you two are so dead.” naveen deadpanned before returning to his usual seat. taunie offered lida an awkward smile while urbain scratched at the back of his head and avoided eye contact.

“one million pokédollars?! what on earth were you filming?!” she screeched, walking towards urbain and gripping the collar of his jacket. they both seemed surprised by this revelation.

“okay well in our defence we didn’t out that much! it’s the interest!” taunie scrambled, lida still seemed dissatisfied with this. “we’ll pay it! don’t worry about it!”

“too late for that, the rust syndicate’s already turned us into their grunts.”

you signed before explaining. “i went to the rust syndicate and spoke with corbeau. to cover the full debt i agreed to do some ‘jobs’ for him.”

your rotom phone pinged in that exact moment, as if corbeau knew you were just talking about him. you pulled it from your pocket and checked the co-ordinates of your first job, it seemed to be at an apartment block not too far from here.

“speak of the devil, my first assignment is here i’ll be back once it’s done.” the twins flashed you a sympathetic smile before you threw the hotel doors open and followed the directions given by corbeau.

you ended up outside beautiful building, ivy clung to the side of the walls and tangled themselves around a few of the balconies. there was no sight of corbeau which you found to be odd, you had assumed he would’ve been here to explain your situation.

instead you walked towards a young man stood at the entrance, he seemed no older than you. his dark hair covered his eyes as he mindlessly kicked a loose stone around.

the sound of your footsteps seemed to alert him. “ah! are you the one corbeau sent to help me out?” he sounded relieved to see you. “i’ve got some pesky pokémon haunting the apartment i’ve just moved into. i’ll show you upstairs.”

you nodded and followed him inside. his apartment was a wide studio littered with dusty boxes. in the centre of the room you noticed a few stray haunter’s and gengar’s that looked to be playing together.

“it’s these pokémon here.” he gestured to the pokémon. “i’ll be waiting over in this corner so let me know when you’re done.”

and so you quickly got to work and with the help of your partner pokémon you made light work of the gengar’s and haunter’s. you brushed yourself off and made a beeline for the man when the apartment doors opened and in walked corbeau.

he was dressed in his usual dark attire but his appearance seemed sleeker than when you’d seen him earlier. “finished?” he inquired, raising his eyebrow as he surveyed the room. “nice work - another happy citizen. i’ll send you the location for your next task.”

“another one?!” you exclaimed, he barked out a laugh before responding. “did you think i was going to let you off that easy? you’ve gotta repay your full amount to the rust syndicate and not a single dollar less.”

and with that he was gone, your rotom phone buzzing as he shut the door behind him. this next location had your head reeling, what business did corbeau have down in the sewers? you wondered for a brief moment if this was a death warrant.

soon enough you arrived to find another rust syndicate member impatiently tapping her foot, she looked up and caught your eyes, huffing lightly she made her way over to you.

“took you long enough. lord corbeau needs all these mega shards clearing out.” she opened the door into the sewers and motioned for all the glittering stones that climbed deeper into the tunnel. “it’s dangerous for anyone wanting to find pokémon here and the pokémon that live down here are at risk of injuring themselves.”

you nodded and once again called your partner pokémon out, together you managed to clear out all the mega shards in no time. you returned to the sewers entrance to find corbeau waiting for you, a smile on his face if you hadn’t had your doubts about it you would’ve assumed it was genuine.

“excellent work! the pokémon seem much more at ease now, thanks to you.” he offered a small nod to you. “i have one more task for you to complete. please follow me back to my office.”

unsurprisingly, he took the lead, you followed him down the cobbled streets not forgetting to admire the sights around you. despite only intending to come here for a short amount of time you found yourself enthralled by this dazzling city.

the buildings carried the weight of the rising moon above them, silver slithers of clouds faintly graced the sky as the bleu district slowly came into view in front of you.

corbeau took great pride in the rust syndicate’s headquarters and it was very apparent. his karesansui gardens were immaculate, not a single grain was out of place. he pushed open the glass doors and flashed you a brief smile as he held the door open for you.

you offered him a quick ‘thank you’ as philippe once again opened the huge oak doors that held corbeau’s office inside. he hurriedly walked inside, straight past his desk and into the small karesansui garden that lay behind it.

this one was much more wild, the grains were spread across the surface vastly, vivid colours mixing in with one and other. you followed, extremely confused, he stopped abruptly and turned to face you.

“i want to have a pokémon battle with you. i hope that you’ll accept.” you gave him a catatonic look, surely he couldn’t be serious? this was your final job? a pokémon battle? “i think your rotom phone will be able to provide you with better information.”

and as if he willed it your rotom phone hummed, you pulled it out and a familiar display screen flashed. the battle royal. he was your next rank up battle.

“it seems we’re cleared to fight. let’s begin!”

he pulled a poké ball into his hand and sent out a scolipede, a predictable choice. you followed suit and sent out your own pokémon. he seemed surprised at your choice of a partner but it only made you laugh.

the battle was surprisingly fierce, you came out victorious which seemed to make corbeau seethe. he stomped his foot and spun on his heel, he began to storm away but not before getting in the last word. “though, i don’t think i’m quite done with you yet. i’ll see you at hotel z.”

and with that he was gone, philippe had the decency to show you out. you fumbled back to hotel z left confused by corbeau once again. he sent your head into spirals but yet, there was something about him that you couldn’t quite grasp, something that lay deeper below his surface.

the rest of team mz remained in their usual seats in the sitting room, seemingly unchanged since you left, taunie jumped from her seat and charged at you.

“are you okay? what happened?”

before you could speak the entrance doors opened behind you and the abrupt sound of shoes scuffing wood silenced you and your friends immediately. turning your head and shifting your gaze your eyes fell upon the sudden interruption.

there in the lobby of your beloved hotel stood none other than corbeau, he was dressed head to toe in his usual smugness. he stepped further inside and flashed you a self-righteous grin before he turned to az and his eyes widened.

“you’re huge!” az gave him a bewildered expression before turning away and walking into the storage room located behind him. corbeau huffed before filling out the guest book and smiled with satisfaction as he placed the pen down.

he then spun on his heel to face you. “come.” he beckoned, gesturing with his hand for you to follow him. you looked around at the mortified faces of your friends before awkwardly trailing behind him and into the lift.

the shutters clasped together and you ascended, corbeau remained silent for the entirety of the lift ride. once the door he quickly walked out into the crisp breeze, the sun had long since sunk and the chill of the night had settled into the air.

he walked to the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the railing, the frosty air tussled his hair marginally as you took your place beside him.

“this city is truly beautiful.” he spoke softly, a strange tenderness coming from him. “when you have nothing you have to find beauty in everything and… everyone.”

his amber eyes burned, an unspoken desire flickered between them. “i find beauty in our… friendship too.” he smiled, a delicate smile, it held the most fragile, unspoken pieces between you two in it.

“i do too.”

the simple words elicited the most profound reaction from corbeau, his smile seemed to grow impossibly wide. he reached his fist out, waiting for you to connect yours and without hesitation you did.

for the most part of the evening you spent the evening together, choosing to ignore the icy wind biting at your skin turning it a pale red at its touch.

despite everything you knew about him, everything that should deter you from being with him you found yourself mesmerised by him and this newfound friendship you had developed.

as the weeks trudged by corbeau seemed to find some sort of relief in your company. after dealing with countless rouge mega’s you found yourself wading through the streets into the familiar grounds of the rust syndicate.

his office had become a kind of sanctuary for the two of you, the dark coloured walls echoed with blissful laughter and sheltered you from the deepest depths of lumoise’s calamity.

“you’re so different.” you stated, you were currently sat on the leather couch in corbeau’s office, your legs tucked underneath you as you leaned in closer to him and you could’ve sworn his breath caught in his throat as you did. “i never thought you could be… soft like this.”

you smiled, a sweet, serene smile that made a crimson hue spread across his porcelain skin. “when you work in this line of work, goodness isn’t something that exists.” he said, a sad smile on his lips. “there’s goodness in everything and everyone, i’ve told you this. it’s just buried deep beneath the surface sometimes.”

you raised a hand and brushed a stray hair off his forehead and tucked it back into place, you knew how meticulous he was about his appearance. he froze, his face warped into some shocked but happy expression.

“i like this side of you.” corbeau settled as he looked up at you. “but the fact you save it just for me? well i like that even more.” you tilted your head slightly, your nose brushed against his fleetingly. he tensed, rapidly.

a million and one thoughts flew around his head. where you seriously about to kiss him? he watched as your eyes fluttered to a close, eyelashes fanning out on your cheeks. he tried so pathetically to compose himself, to be normal about this but as soon as he felt the silky touch of your lips. he lost it completely.

it was a chaste kiss, something so innocent. you looked up at corbeau as you distanced yourself from him. he was an utter mess, his breathing was erratic and all colour drained from his face. you went to say something before he bolted.

he ran, where he was running to he hadn’t decided yet but he ran. you stalled for a moment unsure weather it was a smart idea to chase him but the heart prevailed and you where running before you even realised you had risen off the couch.

the marble floors echoed painfully as you desperately searched for any signs of him. any indication that he was still here. a door was slightly ajar at the end of a long corridor and you bolted for it, slamming it open.

you stepped back, corbeau was there, knuckles turning white as he tightly gripped the pale sink in front of him. his suit jacket and tie had been discarded and lay in a sad, pile on the floor next to him.

“corbeau?”

he looked up, like a deer caught in headlights. the warm glow of the lights bounced off the mirror and made him look almost sickly. he turned, taking small but certain steps towards you. mustering up every ounce of confidence he had each step he took.

“i’m sorry, that was incredibly rude of me.” he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. you reached out and placed a hand on his upper arm, a gesture you hoped would reassure him.

he leaned into the touch, he would never tell you aloud but your touch could cure even the most fatal poison. “why did you run? i thought you wanted this… us”

he winced, the thought of ‘us’ made his head spin with endless possibilities and realities. corbeau had already decided his fate a long time ago, there is no happy ending for him.

“i just-“ he started dragging his hands through his hair, the stray pieces tickling his eyes. you offered him a sympathetic smile, stepping closer you placed your hands on his chest, sliding them into his hair.

“i want you corbeau, every part of you.”

you pressed your lips against his and without hesitation he kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist leaving indentations in the skin but as quickly as he touched you he pulled away, tearing himself out of your embrace.

“you need to leave. NOW!” he barked, turning from like a wounded animal. he clutched his chest and walked out of the bathroom. you stood there, dazed, your head reeling.

stumbling out of the rust syndicate you are weakly made your way across the bleu district and back to hotel z. feebly, you pushed the doors to your humble home open and made a quick exit to your room.

salt tickled your lips as tears rolled your cheeks, you flopped head first into the mattress, its plushness absorbing the ache in your bones.

you had no idea what time it was when you woke up. the dull throb of your head suggested you hadn’t had much sleep last night. the sun was blistering, burning your eyes through the curtains.

your rotom phone flew in front of you as you sat up. no texts, no missed calls no sign that he had even tried to contact you. you skimmed taunie’s message about meeting up tonight at the tower to investigate it throughly.

begrudgingly, you left the safety and comfort of your bed. throwing open the curtains the midday light stung, you threw your usual outfit on and headed downstairs to catch up with the rest of team mz.

everyone sat in their usual places, head down as they talked in a hushed murmur. “hey.” you spoke, causing everyone to raise their heads and meet your gaze, you awkwardly waved before taking your seat next to lida.

you hurled yourself into your plans for tonight and how you would tackle ange with the support from your team and floette and distracted yourself as much as humanly possible.

corbeau paced around his office, his laptop and piles of paperwork lay discarded on his desk. he ran his hands through his hair, tugging it roughly. the pain didn’t compare to anguish in his chest.

he hadn’t meant to be so coarse, he didn’t know what to do and had panicked. how was he meant to know you were going to tell him that?! how was he supposed to react when he hadn’t expected it.

of course he shared the same sentiment, of course he did. he just didn’t know exactly how to express it to you, to be vulnerable was to be weak. wearing your heart on your sleeve only lead to downfall.

he groaned, his rotom phone flew out of his pocket as he received a message from an unknown number, asking him to support team mz tonight as they took on ange.

the hairs at the back of his neck prickled, surely you weren’t going to take it on?! right?

corbeau was restless from that moment on, as the sun began to set over the rust syndicate he followed the co-ordinates to the location provided by the unknown number.

he stood in the empty shopping centre, it was weirdly quiet when he was suddenly struck by a hologram of that streamer girl.

“get your phone out and holo to the tower, team mz are there currently and we need to debrief.” she was gone as soon as she had arrived, he sighed and followed her instructions.

in a matter of seconds he was face to face with you, his throat went dry as you looked away from him, refusing to meet his gaze, he huffed and partially listened to the explanation.

taunie and urbain would go up the tower with floette and you would get across town to fight with zygarde and it was his and the rest of the groups prerogative to get you there safely.

he holo’d back and waited patiently for you to arrive, watching out for alpha pokémon. his ears twitched as he heard the sound of footsteps crashing down onto the marble floor below.

he turned and saw you standing there, beads of sweat dripping down your forehead as your partner pokèmon trailed closely behind you. he reached into his pocket pulling scolipede’s pokèball out of his pocket and summoning him into battle as an alpha pokèmon approached.

“me and scolipede have your back.” he offered you a weak smile, watching as you nodded and took your place beside him. it felt natural fighting alongside you like this.

after you had wrapped up he led you out into the street and up to the rooftop you needed. he ordered his grunts to form a ladder for you to climb, falling short, he climbed up himself providing you with the ladder you required.

you swiftly climbed up, brushing yourself off as you stepped onto the roof. corbeau cleared his throat and watched as you turned to look at him, finally meeting his eyes.

“i have something i need to tell you.” he started off, breathing deeply as he mustered up every ounce of courage he had inside of him. “you know that i- i regret what i said yesterday and i wanted you to that.”

“i- i- i-“

“i want you to be safe.”

you nodded, smiling softly at him. “i will.”

he watched as you ran off into the distance, his grunts dismantled their tower and together they all made their way back towards lumoise tower. he watched as beams of light shot across the sky and he prayed that you would be okay.

he caught up with the rest of the group who watched below as the tower slowly settled, the metal warping and coming to a halt.

cheers and shouts broke out amongst the group as everyone embraced each other celebrating the victory. taunie and urbain returned, the remaining members of team mz rushing over to them, smiling burning brightly only to quickly be replaced by grave sadness.

corbeau pushed through the crowd, wanting to see what was happening and why he hadn’t seen you yet. he stopped suddenly, his face contorting with agony as he looked down at the heap on the cobbles in front of him.

az’s floette hovered weakly over your body, cuts and soot covered your clothes and your chest did not move once. he sunk to the floor, pathetically crawling over to you, turning you towards him and screaming as you did not open your eyes when he called for you.

he voice broke, jagged and twisted as he sobbed, gripping onto your jacket as you lay lifeless on the ground. eyes closed, a peaceful expression on your face.

he heart shattered, thousands of times over. he wondered for the briefest moment. what if he had ruined the friendship?

[matchakittycatt]

⋆˙⟡ the fate of ophelia⋆˙⟡

.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

tags - ronin beaufort, gn! reader, alternative universe, acting

trigger warning - dark themes, obsessive tendencies, unhealthy relationship dynamics and 18+ themes

summary - all is fair in love and poetry. playing ophelia was no simple feat, a character so consuming and complex that many women before you lost themselves in her story and who’s to say you’re any different? however, fate works in funny ways. your co-star, ronin beaufort, a critically acclaimed actor with hundreds of productions tucked snuggly under his belt, he finds himself as the maddened hamlet.

will you follow your destiny or follow in the fate of ophelia?

author’s note - hi all! this will be the final part thanks for reading along <3

₊✩‧₊˚౨ F O U R ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

in the days that followed ronin’s presence felt more like a phantom than anything tangible. in the days that passed following your intimate evening ronin seemed to have withdrawn himself completely from you.

the lingering question kept you up - why?

you had tried so hard to get him to even acknowledge you existed but he just floated past you as if you were a speck of dust circulating in his orbit.

the strain could be felt by everyone, it certainly didn’t slip past mara’s ever intrusive gaze, she hounded you for answers as her ophelia slipped further into melancholy.

the lines you delivered which such conviction hung dead in the air like roses left to rot, the same passion and spirit that you breathed into ophelia seemed to have died the night he left you on the stage.

you didn’t return home that night.

you couldn’t believe any of that had just happened. you had spent the night motionless on the floor, staring into the fixtures above wondering what anything meant anymore.

you couldn’t read him - at first he was pouring his very soul out to you then the next he was gone, a distant figure despite the close proximity. he was driving you into insanity.

ronin watched. he always did.

he watched when he knew you were so drowned in your hysteria. he watched as his ophelia bled herself dry in front of everyone, he knew what he was doing was so wrong - to string you along, pull you in so close only to release you the moment you got too close.

he felt as though he was toying with the devil itself. the temptation, the satisfaction he got from such cruelty. it was simply unbearable.

as you sunk onto the stage floor once again, almost sobbing your soliloquy, he knew he had done it. he had found the ophelia underneath, broken you until every crack shimmered underneath the lights of the stage, naked, but only for him to see.

his heart wrenched for you, a feeling he wasn’t sure was entirely real, for his heart so often felt dead in chest but he revelled in his anguish and his sin and that’s what you adored about him.

he watched as you stared out into the empty rows below, searching for some kind saviour. something to deliver you from temptation, to take you back into light. but god was dead, even ronin knew that and no one was coming to save you.

not after you embraced the rot.

mara watched from the technician’s booth. her eyes filled with some array of worry and astonishment. she clapped slowly and thanked you for the scene.

you slowly gathered your skirts and drifted off the stage, you felt so lifeless, you brushed past ronin as you left. your skin touching for the briefest millisecond yet it sent sparks seeping into your veins.

you spent the rest of the rehearsal watching from the shadows, you hoped the velvet could cloak your desolation. you watched as ronin stood, unaffected by his distance, deliver his lines effortlessly. you were finally blocking the final scenes.

hamlet’s full dissent into madness was exposed to everyone at the final banquet which turns out to be a murderous feast. you watch as ronin crazes, you see no difference between the two men as he loses himself once again.

as mara calls for the end, everyone cheers, thrilled to have finally finished the play in its entirety and the following week would be the final tech rehearsal before opening night.

the theatre once again became hollow, as your peers oozed out of the double doors and into the icy streets.

“wait.”

you call out, your voice comes out a breathy gasp at best. ronin stops dead in his tracks, his feet inch’s away from stepping out of the doors. his silhouette is masked by the darkness of the audience but you know he’s there.

he moves his hands away from the door and pivots. now facing you, he watches you tentatively, the warm glow of the lights you seem to bask in make your hollow eyes even more dazzling.

“why? ronin, why?”

you asked with such conviction ronin felt you deserved an answer, even if that answer would break you entirely. he would watch as you crumble before him, like sand slipping through his fingers you could finally embrace the rot and the glamour that comes with being his ophelia.

“i think you know why.” he starts, the thud of his boots softened by the plush of the carpet. “i don’t know where you begin or where i end, you’re ensnared in me.”

he climbed the steps and joined you on the stage and he finally met your eyes, his dark gaze didn’t soften as he spoke and yet you welcomed it.

“we’re no different from them. without me you’re mad and i’m falling deeper into lunacy. together we’re a mess, a beautiful mess.” he reached out and placed his hand on your cheek, cupping it as he spoke. “i’m asking if you to embrace the rot and the madness. i’m asking you to embrace me.”

you searched his eyes and there were no lies anymore, no deceit. he meant every word, like he spewing lines from the gospel.

your head had been spinning for days, losing ronin meant losing yourself entirely. you were so wrapped up in him and his madness that nothing else mattered anymore.

you stepped closer to him, removing any distance that stood between you and him. you placed a fragile kiss on his lips. as if the world hung on your actions.

he smiled, that wicked smile of his. he moved his hand to his your waist and brought his lips to yours. he bit down on your lower lip, drawing the faintest amount of blood, the taste of blood and sweat filled your senses.

you knew he was a monster. you knew he was going to destroy you from the moment you caught him watching you.

and yet?

you wanted to revel in this insanity.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

opening night came sooner than anticipated, you stood in the wings, white linen clinging to you with desperation as you watched ronin from the other side of the stage. he looked ethereal, his tunic open at the tie and his dark pants and boots were similar to his trademark look.

his red hair was still prominent in the dark, he looked as though he had been plucked from the time and placed on the stage. he mouthed something to you that was lost in the distance as your gaze was transfixed on him. and him alone.

the theatre went dark, your breath caught in your throat as ronin walked out onto the stage, his boots scuffing against the wooden stage floor. once again the lights shone and he breathed hamlet to life.

you watched with utter marvel as ronin, your ronin, played his role with utter perfection because ronin was hamlet, mad and trapped in his own mind but you both revelled in the madness and made it your home.

the minutes dragged on as your final moments arrived, you stepped out onto the stage. you couldn’t make out any shapes or figures in the audience but you knew they were there hanging onto ophelia and her deepening chaos.

you dropped, knees scraping hard against the aged floor. your lines poured from your lips as though you were preaching. you captured the attention of everyone in the room, ronin watched.

he always watched but this time he really watched, with his dark eyes following the swooshes of fabric as you poured and poured as though you were drawing your own blood in front of the audience and handing it to them on a silver platter.

tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, this was it. this is the fate of ophelia, to love is to lose your mind entirely and to revel in your own insanity.

and ronin?

he was worth this fate.

[matchakittycatt]

⋆˙⟡ the fate of ophelia⋆˙⟡

.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

tags - ronin beaufort, gn! reader, alternative universe, acting, female genitalia used!

trigger warning - dark themes, obsessive tendencies, unhealthy relationship dynamics and 18+ themes, nsfw content

summary - all is fair in love and poetry. playing ophelia was no simple feat, a character so consuming and complex that many women before you lost themselves in her story and who’s to say you’re any different? however, fate works in funny ways. your co-star, ronin beaufort, a critically acclaimed actor with hundreds of productions tucked snuggly under his belt, he finds himself as the maddened hamlet.

will you follow your destiny or follow in the fate of ophelia?

author’s note - i’m hoping this will be a small series! it’s heavily based on the fate of ophelia by taylor swift so please enjoy :)

₊✩‧₊˚౨ T H R E E ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

you followed your routine meticulously, the morning after your confrontation with ronin, you entered the theatre slightly earlier than usual and placed your bags onto one of the seats on the audience. you hoped to avoid him for as long as possible, however, it was a short lived hope.

ronin sat on the edge of the stage, his long legs dangling off the side. he looked almost child-like. his script was held tightly in his hands and his brows knitted with concentration. you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at the sight.

he seemed unaware of your presence. hazardously, you approached. script tucked snuggly under your arm. “hey.”

ronin’s head immediately perked up. he placed his script at his side and offered you a hellish grin, a smile so tempting you understood why there were rumours, why women seemed to throw themselves at him.

“what’s up, darling?” his words were soft but loaded, the simple use of a pet name made a furious blush appear on your cheeks, you thought for a moment that he was doing this to purposely get a rise out of you.

“i was just wondering.” you tightened your grip on your script, as if it was the only thing grounding you right now. “if you could run through some scenes with me tonight? i wanted to run through act 5, scene 1.”

his eye lit up for the briefest of moments, as if you’d just told him the heavens were falling. “i absolutely could. but what’s in it for me?”

you deadpanned. of course he’d ask that.

“more time with me?” you responded, immediately realising what you had just said and that seemed to egg him on more.

“oh it sounds like a date then.” and with that he walked into wings, his strides more confident than usual. just what had you gotten yourself into.

the rest of the rehearsal seemed to go painfully slow, every time you glanced at your phone it felt like the time never changed that was until mara’s shrill voice echoed through the room.

“that’s enough for today. wrap it up people!” it was almost like the room itself let out a sigh of relief. the stage groaned as your cast mates hurriedly made their way down the wooden steps and into the audience.

you found peace in the way everyone moved, each individual had their own lives waiting for them outside of the theatre yet the mutual love of make believe brought you all together.

you stood in the centre of the stage, watching as everyone poured out of the main doors and into the pounding rain outside. the stage lights engulfed you in their warmth and you found yourself almost hypnotised. until he was there.

you felt ronin’s presence before you saw him in your peripheral vision. he wore his usual melancholy clothes, dark jeans and a dark shirt.

“i thought you might of left.” his words carried weight, as if he was daring you to say something back. “i’m shocked you stayed.”

“i’m not one to back down.”

he beamed, as if the words unlocked something deep inside him. he exited the wings and joined you on stage, he stood in front of you. his hands brushing against your arms. “go lie down.”

you nod, you walk towards the small decline in the stage. this was your final moment, ophelia’s tragic demise as she loses all autonomy and finds herself maddened.

the white cotton of ophelia’s dress trails behind you, as you step down and lie flat. waiting for ronin’s lines.

“what, the fair ophelia?” the sound of his boots echo through the room and your heart quivers as he approaches. you look up and there he is, his burgundy hair falling romantically over his eyes, his cheeks puffed and slightly red.

he jumps down into the makeshift grave and picks up up, your shoulders and legs resting in his strong arms. your skirts wrap around his legs as he steps out, holding you securely in his arms.

“i loved ophelia. forty thousand brothers could not with all their quantity of love make up my sum. what wilt thou do for her?” he kneeled and delicately placed you down onto the cool wood of the stage. he looked down at you, his eyes swimming with something almost untouchable.

as if it was against his own will, his hands reached out to cup your face, his body was over yours before you even had time to process was happening before he pressed his lips against yours, he tasted of metallics and citrus.

he pulled away just as quickly, your eyes widened as you sat upright. “ronin-“ before you could finish his mouth found yours again, his hands tangling in your hair.

you melted into his kiss, your arms slowly wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, sliding onto the floor again. his hands drifted to your sides before resting on your hips. his fingers gripping onto your flesh so tightly it felt like it was going to tear.

his kiss was all-consuming, every moment felt like was eating his way into your soul. he broke away for a brief instant, his eyes sparkling with mischief, he opened his mouth and closed it. he did this a few more times before he eventually spoke.

“can i?” he looked gluttonous, feeding off every little taste he could get of you. you nodded desperately, that was all it took before he devoured you.

his hands slipped under the white linen of your costume and trailed along your thighs, he quickly found the hem of your underwear. a shallow whine trailed from your lips as his fingers slid underneath.

the movement was slow at first, almost tender. he broke his kiss once again to watch your face contorted with the sheer pleasure his touch provided as his fingers reached your cervix.

he was drunk off the feeling you gave him, he had you under his complete control and nothing gave him more pleasure than that.

your whimpered as his removed his fingers, rubbing them against his pants. he made swift work of his jeans and hovered over you, his penis was fully erect and throbbing.

he took it between his hand and began to rub himself up and down. your lips parted against your will, he pulled you closer to him, lining himself up to your lips.

the anticipation was killing you, you gripped his arms and the words that followed felt like a pathetic cry. “please ronin.” those simple words were all it took before ronin entered you at full force.

the moans and cries that fell from your lips as he thrusted into you tirelessly sent him over the edge, he was like an addict when it came to you. every feeling, every touch, every second in your presence was better than any drug he could ever have.

“you’re doing so well for me darling.” he arms caged your head, you found yourself lost in his eyes, you thought for a second that you could drown in them if you stared hard enough. “keep it up for me.”

his praise had your head spinning, all the pleasure was starting to become to much. your grip on his arms tightened as you felt yourself slipping, you had lost track of time and hadn’t even realised you had finished already.

ronin’s thrust eventually slowed down and became sloppy, with one last effort, his tip brushed your cervix and you assumed he had finished.

he pulled himself out and tucked his penis back inside of his boxers and pulled his pants back around his waist before redoing his belt.

you lay on the stage, eyes staring at the rafters above. nothing felt real anymore, nothing except for ronin.

his large hands brushed against you forehead wiping the hair that had to stuck to it away, taking any remaining sweat with it. he then placed a benign kiss onto your nose, and then your cheeks and then your forehand. the sudden intimacy was strange but not unwelcome.

he smiled, his usual expression was full of the same mischievousness, your hands moved of their own accord and rested on his cheeks, cupping them. he leaned into the touch, his smile only growing wider.

“oh fair and beautiful ophelia, you drive me mad.”

“i don’t know where i begin or where you end anymore ronin.”

[matchakittycatt]

⋆˙⟡ the fate of ophelia ⋆˙⟡

.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

tags - ronin beaufort, gn! reader, alternative universe, acting

trigger warning - dark themes, obsessive tendencies, unhealthy relationship dynamics and 18+ themes

summary - all is fair in love and poetry. playing ophelia was no simple feat, a character so consuming and complex that many women before you lost themselves in her story and who’s to say you’re any different? however, fate works in funny ways. your co-star, ronin beaufort, a critically acclaimed actor with hundreds of productions tucked snuggly under his belt, he finds himself as the maddened hamlet.

will you follow your destiny or follow in the fate of ophelia?

author’s note - i’m hoping this will be a small series! it’s heavily based on the fate of ophelia by taylor swift so please enjoy :)

₊✩‧₊˚౨ T W O ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

by the second week of rehearsals, the theatre had already started to feel like a living organism - its old bones creaking in the rafters, the dust settling into your lungs like history itself. the novelty of the first day had mellowed into a kind of anxious rhythm: arrive, stretch, vocal warm-ups, dive into the script.

the rain tapped gently against the translucent glass high above the walls of the stage, where sunlight had engulfed the theatre in its warm glow the bleak sky outside was quick to replace it.

mara stood in the centre of the stage wafting one hand in the air, the other held her clipboard firmly against her chest, shouting what seemed like random instructions to the technicians but probably made sense to her.

the rest of the class were scattered among the audience, scripts balancing half-heartedly on their laps as they scrolled through their phones awaiting mara’s latest instructions. the previous days had been plain and simple - mara watching with her crow like eyes as she studied every individuals intricate details as we all found our feet on the stage.

today was the day the script and the spirit of the production was finally coming to life, resurrecting itself from its dust-bound grave.

mara’s hands clasped together, pulling everyone from their trances. “today, i want to run the first few scenes again.” a few whoops and claps filled the brief silence. “elsinore, horatio, barnardo and marcellus. please prepare yourself.”

in the moments that followed, the cast began to fumble through the audience and into the wings, disappearing from sight entirely. you inhaled sharply before placing your belongings down and hurriedly took your places in the wings.

since your arrival you hadn’t seen ronin once, which struck you as odd. he seemed like the type to arrive hours before call time to ‘get into character’ better.

you settled yourself snuggly in the furthest left wing, everyone seemed to bunch together closest to the audience, peeping out to catch mara’s expression.

as the actors took their places the theatre seemed to come to life, the room filled with the sounds of shoes scuffing against hardwood and scripts being flipped over and over and over.

“what seems to have you so spellbound?”

his voice whispered down your neck, wrapping itself softly around the depths of your heart. he spoke with such softness you couldn’t believe that was ronin at all.

turning to face him slightly, he seemed dressed in his usual dark and broody attire. the smug grin he wore made your blood boil as he knew he had surprised you.

“i’m just trying to watch the scene.” you responded coolly. “i’ll be up soon and i’m trying to get a feel for the tone.”

“you’re speaking like a true actress darlin’, you’re surpassing my expectations already.” you tilted your head, confused by his words. what exactly were his expectations? and what did you do to surpass them so easily?

“i’ll see you out there. knock ‘em dead.” and with that he walked out onto the stage deliver his lines with such precision and clarity you wondered if you had just dreamed the conversation. you were astonished at how quickly he snapped into character, it was almost as if hamlet was living under his skin the entire time - waiting to crawl to the surface.

by the time you’d had composed yourself ronin was brushing past you, his hands momentarily touching yours but it sent static shocks under your skin, like touching him electrocuted you.

you entered the stage, skin still pulsating, alongside luca, your cast mate playing laertes, the scene was basic enough. but not without its warnings.

“but let me hear it for you.” luca turned to you, gesturing with one hand, offering the stage to you. this was it. this was the moment.

“do you doubt that?” you replied inquisitively, luca flashed you a brief smile, praying it would go unnoticed by mara’s eyes.

the scene played out perfectly, just as you hoped it would. as you exited the stage and took relief in the wings, ronin watched you with a transfixed gaze, you felt as through he was trying to pry his way into your very soul.

your fingers brushed the soft black plush of the curtains separating you entirely from ophelia and her wold. you hold the touch would ground you, a feeble attempt to not get swept up in ronin’s gaze.

a plain gesture sparked something primitive in ronin, he licked his lips hungrily as if he were about to dive cross the stage and crack your skull clean in half and consume you like he would a pomegranate.

the rest of the days continues much like that.

stolen glances from across the wings, ronins hands flexing at his side as if he’s physically restraining himself. you watch with anticipation as the scenes ebb and flow, breathing life into the classic and spinning it into a beautiful rendition.

mara raises a singular hand in the air, her sign that rehearsals were over. your body was stiff, your voice slightly strained from mara’s constant reminders to project your voice so that god himself could hear your lines.

the rest of the cast left in drips and drabs, lightheartedly chatting as the doors rippled shut behind them as you descended down the steps and into the audience to retrieve your belongings, a voice called out for you.

“the fair ophelia! - nymph, in thy orisons, be all my sins rememb'red.” as you pivoted, you saw ronin in all his glory. the dull lights engulfed him and shone, halo-like, above his head despite his bleak attire you could’ve mistaken him for an angel.

you held out a single hand to you, beckoning you onto the stage. reluctantly, you indulged him, dropping your bags onto the floor you stepped back onto the stage and stood in front of ronin, being so close to him made you realise just how imposing he truly was.

he looked down, offering you a devilish grin. “and here i thought, my fair ophelia was a saintly woman.” he moved so quickly it, left you stunned. his face was so close to you if you’d even stepped but an inch forward - you would’ve kissed him. “turns out she’s just as rotten as i am.”

“you speak in so many half-truths i don’t know what to believe ronin.” you sighed, attempting to put some distance between you, he clearly didn’t get the hint, he reached out and intertwined your hands.

“you’re a woman after my own heart, you don’t see it yet but you’re just as mad as i am.” he smiled, that same god awful smile that made your knees buckle, you swore he only wore it for you. “pray, tell me your thoughts. how did you come to find yourself as ophelia.”

his question took you aback. why did ronin beaufort give a damn about your acting career? and why did he choose now to ask? at the end of rehearsals when the theatre was eerily empty.

“i’ve always loved shakespeare, i feel like everyone’s life is wrapped up in some sort of relatable tragedy.” you pondered. “some are more relatable than others.”

that answer seemed to have appeased him. for now.

“you captivate me.” he declared, his words were so bold you couldn’t find any belief in them. “i’ve watched you these last few weeks and i find myself craving you, even your gaze leaves me breathless.”

“ronin, you don’t mean this.”

his smile widened as if your disbelief just added to his excitement. “but i do, you’re my ophelia. it’s almost as if the devil himself brought me the perfect girl to deliver me to temptation.”

he began to run his hands up and down your arms, this touch alone set your skin on fire. “you barely know me ronin, we ran a few lines together, what you’re suggesting. it’s just not possible.”

“but it could be. indulge me.”

your words caught in his throat as he raised his hand to your face, brushing a stray piece of hair that had fallen over your eyes. he placed a chaste kiss on your temple before walking away.

he was gone. his kiss still warm, his words overflowing within your mind. you thought back to the week prior, surely he couldn’t be serious? a few meaningless interactions had ronin beaufort at your mercy? it was preposterous.

the first time you had ran your scene together was at the end of last week. you were a nervous wreck, the entire cast had sat in the audience as you and ronin took your places.

whispers had already started days before this, ronin didn’t hide his interest in you, he wore it like he would any article of clothing. without any ounce of shame.

you know ronin had a reputation. tabloids made suggestions that ronin had ruined the lives of every leading actress he had worked with, leaving them devoid, shells of the woman they once were. you were never one to believe in baseless rumours but now, as he watches you with such burning intensity you couldn’t deny you were curious.

his presence had awoken something deep inside of you, you found yourself yearning for him in ways that didn’t seem humanly possible. you tried to pass it off as feelings from the proximity, the fact you were playing such intense roles.

but it was the unfathomable truth now.

he had clawed his way into your heart.

[matchakittycatt]

⋆˙⟡ the fate of ophelia ⋆˙⟡

.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.

tags - ronin beaufort, gn! reader, alternative universe, acting

trigger warning - dark themes, obsessive tendencies, unhealthy relationship dynamics and 18+ themes

summary - all is fair in love and poetry. playing ophelia was no simple feat, a character so consuming and complex that many women before you lost themselves in her story and who’s to say you’re any different? however, fate works in funny ways. your co-star, ronin beaufort, a critically acclaimed actor with hundreds of productions tucked snuggly under his belt, he finds himself as the maddened hamlet.

will you follow your destiny or follow in the fate of ophelia?

author’s note - i’m hoping this will be a small series! it’s heavily based on the fate of ophelia by taylor swift so please enjoy :)

₊✩‧₊˚౨ O N E ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

the air seemed sacred on the first day of rehearsals. the worn, plush red chairs offered a strange amount of comfort as you took in the stage in front of you. to you, theatres always smelt of something holy. the faint cracks of light that pooled in from the glazed windows and the markings and scuffs of performers who once bleed themselves dry on this very stage, giving their all to the audience that sat before them, high off the performance they were being fed.

this morning felt warmer than usual. despite being early most of the crew and cast had already arrived, lighting and sound technicians were already busying themselves in the centre of the room flicking stage lights and speakers on and off and getting a feel for the atmosphere.

the first two rows were engulfed by water bottles and discarded gym bags - shoes, wraps and leggings covered the floor in front of the stage like a tsunami of clothes that had fallen upon your precious theatre. the stage itself was teetering on the edge of full. most of the main cast had sat themselves in a pitiful semi circle, scripts with aggressive highlights lay scattered between them all as they flicked through pages, faces scrunched with concentration as muttered lines began to fill the surrounding air.

this all felt like home, a second nature to you. acting almost felt like breathing these days. from the days where you were flashed with bright lights by your high school light techs who had no idea just how bright the lights were as you tried to deliver a heart felt monologue to a crowed gym packed with parents and crying children who preferred to run between the rows rather than pay attention to the performance in front of them.

acting was a sacred art, a way to escape the pressure and pain of the world and to try on the masks of a thousand people and live their joys and tragedies as a means to escape your own. someday’s you didn’t know where you characters began or you ended as scripts and dialogue just became a routine, something you craved to find some semblance of normalcy.

holding your bag tighter you strod down the steps and headed towards the stage, adding your bag to pre-existing graveyard, you grabbed your script and water bottle and headed up the second set of steps up to the stage and joined the jagged semi circle.

a few people offered small waves or polite smiles as you sat close to the wings. your script had been dog tagged with bright print sticky tabs and blue highlighter seeped through the dull white pages, a breath you didn’t realise you were holding escaped through your lips as the reality of your situation finally dawned on you.

this was the beginning of what you hoped would be your descent into stardom. the nights you’d spent pouring your heart out to your reflected self in your mirror or the afternoons you’d cried when roles fell through. something about this felt right, like every piece of your career jigsaw was finally slotting into place.

ophelia wasn’t just a role, she was the role. the one you had dreamt of since you were sixteen, sitting in your cramped bedroom, reciting her lines until your voice cracked. acting had always been your escape hatch from the noise, from the uncertainty, from yourself. onstage, you could be anyone. someone brave. someone tragic. someone completely unforgettable.

you knew this was more than just a role, this was it. the role that could cement your name, the performance that could finally silence the quiet fear that maybe you’d just been lucky until now. you briefly recalled the moment you’d received the call to inform you that you’d received the role. you had cried until your phone had gone flat.

your director, a sharp-eyed woman named mara valen, was circling the room like a hawk, introducing the cast, pairing names with faces. you half-listened, scanning the others, trying to memorise smiles, laughter, the way people held their scripts, all small clues about how they worked.

this industry was cut-throat and you knew that, the simplest mistake could end your entire career - a line falling flat or running late to a rehearsal. she was brutal, it was almost as if you were a small fish trying to swim to with the sharks. she was known for her prestigious nature and all of her productions went on to win awards and she was a ‘once in a lifetime’ director and ‘the most exceptional of her generation’. she was a woman of small stature, her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun and her beady eyes scanned for weakness like a predator assessing its prey.

the clicking of heels pulled you from your thoughts, mara stood in front of you her mouth pressed into a thin line. you couldn’t tell if this was her attempt at a kind smile or she was preparing to eat you alive.

“good morning, ophelia.” her voice was stern and steady, you offered a polite response before she turned away, nodding her head as she walked off the stage and into the audience.

shaking off the nerves that crept into the crevices of your bones by her presence alone. the doors to the theatre opened and the sound of heavy boots thudding against the floor silenced the room entirely.

he didn’t walk in so much as arrive.

ronin beaufort.

even his name alone carried a tremendous weight. he wore his fame like it was coat, heavy and all-consuming. he didn’t dress like an extravagant movie star, he wore a simple pair of black jeans and black shirt to match, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows revealing a black tattoo you couldn’t quite make out the words of.

there were rumours, of course. that he never auditioned; parts simply fell to him. that actors who went for the same roles suddenly backed out, calling in sick, losing interest or disappearing altogether. that he could read you in seconds - peel you open, find your truths, and use them for his own sick amusement.

you’d never believed all of it. until now.

he sauntered down the steps claiming the air that brushed past him. his eyes scanned the surrounding area, surveying every expression, every inch of emotion that flicked across the faces of his new ensemble.

eventually he reached the stage and offered a courteous nod to mara before stepping onto the stage, his thick boots making the stage tremble as he walked.

how fitting.

mara clasped her hands together. “everyone.” raising her voice ever so slightly. “this is ronin beaufort, he will be taking on the role of hamlet.”

the room filled with scattered applause, nervous laughter. you clapped too, trying to keep your expression neutral, though your pulse betrayed you. he gave a faint smile, murmured a greeting, and then - again - looked at you.

his energy was insatiable. you knew what type of man he was, he was the type of man to nestle into the deepest, darkest depths of your soul and claim every blackened part of you as his own.

despite knowing all of this you still felt yourself compelled to this man, the thought of him knowing every inch of you made you apprehensive.

"ophelia." he said under this breath, his voice low, texured but not unappealing. "i was hoping to meet you first".

you paled, trembling slightly. "well i guess luck is on your side".

he smiled slow but deliberate. "you've been studing her for a long time, haven’t you?".

you frowned, caught off guard. "how would you know that?"

he tilted his head a fraction and smiled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "the way you hold the script. it's like you’re clutching a bible".

you laughed, attempting to break the sudden tension in the air more than you wanted to. "do you always read people like that?"

"only when i want to understand people". he replied "ophelia... the fair ophelia, maddened by love. how quaint".

there was a pause - long enough for you to notice the faint scar near his jaw, the way his hand moved absently through the air as if tracing thoughts he couldn't quite voice.

you gulped and offered a soft, polite smile as he slowly backed away turning his body completely away from you and heading in the direction of your director. you caught the fainest ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth, one that made you think he already knew how this story would play out.

but you didn't. not yet.

rehearsals that day were relatively mundane, mara focused on working breifly with individuals to get more of a feel on character impressions and what she was working with. you tried to fall into ophelia, the grace and softness of a woman tainted and bruised by love.

it was a hard feat when all you could feel were eyes boring into the back of your head that it made your skin prickle, even out of your peripheral vision ronin made his presence known. you could feel him watching you with such intent it churned your stomach.

mara seemed to pay no mind to this and had you run the same scene for twenty minutes to as she claimed 'get a real feel for your ophelia' some part of you felt like she got off on this power trip of hers.

the hours strecthed on from there - markings on the stage were loosely made with duct tape and you got a feel for your fellow actors and actresses, you were amazed by the sheer talent in such a small production.

as mara gave her closing thoughts on today's rehearsal and what the structure for tomorrow was, everyone clapped and said their ‘thank you's’ before returning to graveyard of discared bags and water bottles and slowly trickled out of the theatre in small clusters.

you let out a small sigh before collecting your own belongings from the now empty front two rows, after slinging your bag over your shoulder you once again felt eyes rake over you. turning your head in the direction of the stage you could make out ronin, bathing in the lights staring out into the nothingness of the rows below.

his sheer dedication and passion for his craft was alarming if not admirable, he seemed to notice your staring and offered you a pained smile which you hoped wasn't supposed to be comforting.

"see you tomorrow". his smile grew impossibly wide. "my fair ophelia".