My next prompt to celebrate @galfridus1 hitting 500 followers… a little angst to go along with her post that you can read here

thisisaverycreativeurl asked:

What about “You don’t have to pretend with me” for Melizabeth? Preferably something angsty–you know how I feed off of their t e a r s–but feel free to do whatever you want! Congrats!

Meliodas stood in the closet door of his bedroom, staring down at the sword he held in his hand. It had been years since he last saw it—sixteen years, in fact—and the memories that came with the simple yet elegant weapon were like weights on his shoulders. He could barely believe he was holding it again.

“Sir Meliodas?”

He jumped, startled at the voice that invaded his thoughts. Quickly he shoved the sword onto a shelf in the closet, turning with a grin to face the princess. “Hey, Elizabeth! Getting ready for bed?”

She smiled and nodded, but walked over to him, stepping around him to peer into the closet. “Is that… are you putting away the sword?”

Meliodas shifted a bit nervously. “Just for tonight. No need to have a weapon lying around if there’s nothing to fight.”

“Are you…” He was surprised to see her fidget. “Are you upset I brought it to you?”

He opened his mouth to make a joke but her face was so serious it gave him pause. “You don’t have to pretend with me. You can tell me the truth.”

“It’s fine, Elizabeth,” Meliodas assured her. “I’m glad to see it again.” He squeezed by her, squeezing her backside as he pretended to grab her hips, grinning to himself when she gave a squeak. But when he looked over his shoulder, he caught her peering inside, her long legs stretching a bit as she reached for the shelf.

Elizabeth turned and looked at him curiously, the sword now in her hands. “Do you mind if I take a look?” she asked sweetly. “I really didn’t get a chance to see this earlier.”

Her eyes were bright and sincere, her smile soft, so Meliodas felt as though he could not deny her. With a quick nod her smile widened, and then she hurried to the bed to sit and have a proper look.

But Meliodas did not join her, watching from where he stood in the center of the room.

Carefully Elizabeth pulled the blade from its sheath. His muscles tensed for a split second—Elizabeth Liones was not the most graceful being that had ever stumbled through Britannia—but her hands were surprisingly sure as she examined it. Meliodas did not speak as he watched her, barely breathing, his chest squeezing tighter and tighter as he tried not to move or make a sound.

Her blue eyes traced over the outline of the blade before Elizabeth carefully balanced it in her palm. Next, she studied the geometric pattern on the handle, using a finger to gently trace the outline of the shapes that decorated the wood. She smiled softly, a very light dusting of pink rising on her cheeks, and the way her hair fell over her eyes and the tilt of her head as her tongue ran over her bottom lip brought him nearly to his knees.

Because it was her, back again in the flesh. Liz, Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, who had sat on the edge of their bed in Danafor and examined the blade that he had refused to take from her. “I don’t know why you don’t like it,” she had pouted, and Meliodas had assured her he loved the gift, it just wasn’t for him.

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thisisaverycreativeurl  asked:

What about “You don’t have to pretend with me” for Melizabeth? Preferably something angsty--you know how I feed off of their t e a r s--but feel free to do whatever you want! Congrats!

Thanks for the ask @thisisaverycreativeurl and Happy Birthday!! This isn’t a proper present - that is to come and will be late (sorry, sorry) but it tries to combine your love of angst with a love of NNT AUs, this one being Cruel Intentions. I hope you’ve seen the film and that you enjoy this!

Afterwards she remembered the tiny details: the oppressive summer heat, the acrid smell of burning stinging the back of her throat, and the smears of black tar spread out in ugly streaks across the road. Her hand had smoothed away unruly strands of blonde hair, her fingers lightly caressing the forehead of the man she had loved, then cried over, and then so irrefutably lost, his green eyes closed as if in a peaceful sleep.

Elizabeth felt the breath catch in her lungs and she pulled up short, desperately needing to compose herself. Even after all these months this still happened sometimes, the feeling of unreality as her past clashed horribly with her present. She was just sixteen and already her life was to all intents and purposes over. She would never experience real joy again.

Because after all he had loved her. Whatever his faults, and even if his motives had been dark and sinister at first he had truly loved her. She had known, even as he told her he did not care, had wanted nothing more than to use her, that his cruel words were a lie. She had seen the tenderness in his eyes as they lay together, their arms wrapped round one another, the warmth of him enveloping her in a blanket of comfort.

“You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you love me,” she had whispered as he had started to move away after their first time together, pulling him close, breathing in his scent. And as he had responded, kissing her deeply, unhurried, without the frenzy of desire, she had known for sure that he had really changed. He was no longer the cold, selfish and vain boy who had tried to so clumsily seduce her. He really cared for her with his whole being. And he always would do.

That was why he had saved her life, hurling himself into the road to push her out of the way of the oncoming car. She had screamed as the brakes screeched, shut her eyes tight as the vehicle had failed to slow in time and his body was dragged beneath the wheels. Even then she had thought he might have survived, running to his side as others called for help. But even as she cradled him to her, his vibrant eyes were beginning to fade, the words he so desperately wanted to speak gurgling pitifully in his throat.

Forcing herself to move forward, legs unsteady as she made her way towards the imposing school building, Elizabeth tugged at the too short skirt which barely covered the tops of her thighs. The skirt she wore because he had chosen it that time they had spent a day at the mall, trying on clothes, people watching, just holding hands and she had thought her heart would burst with happiness. She had been so full of life and hope she had not even noticed the worried looks of her peers as she allowed Meliodas to place his lips on hers in what he must have known was her first real kiss.

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◜ ¡La espera ha terminado!◞

Esperamos hayan disfrutado sus seven minutes o más en el cielo, queridos pecadores. Debemos decir que estamos sorprendidas, tanto de buena como mala manera. Muchos nos dejaron con el ojo cuadrado y cumplieron nuestras expectativas, mientras que otros… meh. 

Pero bueno, dejemos de perder el tiempo y vayamos a lo que a todos interesa: ¡La revelación de las parejas! junto con el tan pedido ranking de la noche.

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