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d-targaryenshoe · 1 month

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Eternal Hope - Anthony Bridgerton

Word Count: 2053

Summary: When one's best friend tells you a rather complex secret about your husband, doubts start to take over your mind, am I right?

You and Anthony Bridgerton were the perfection of an ideal couple, your marriage a testament to the power of love and commitment.

You were a vision of innocence and purity, your heart as untainted as the snow that covered the ground on your wedding day.

He was the embodiment of devotion, his every action a reflection of his deep affection for you. To the outside world, you were the picture-perfect duo, your lives a fairytale come true.

But your best friend, Philipa Featherington, knew better. Her family had seen Anthony Bridgerton in his younger days before he had met you and settled down.

Back then, he had been known as quite the rake, a man who was more interested in the pleasures of the flesh than in finding true love.

Despite his charming exterior, there was something dark and dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

It was this knowledge that made Philipa feel a mixture of awe, envy, and a tiny thread of worry for you, her friend.

One afternoon, as the two of you sat in the parlor, sipping tea and enjoying the warmth of the sun, Philipa decided to share the past with you.

"You know, y/n," she began, her voice low and conspiratorial, "I sometimes wonder how you ever managed to tame that wild beast of a man."

Philipa nodded towards the golden ring on your finger. "Before you came along, Anthony was quite the scoundrel."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Philipa, I cannot believe that you would say such a thing about my husband!" you exclaimed. "Anthony is the most loving, attentive man I could ever hope for!"

Philipa smiled sympathetically, knowing that you meant every word you said. But she also knew that there was more to the story than you realized.

"Yes, yes," she said, waving her hand dismissively.

"Of course, he is different now. But you must remember that everyone here has known him for years, and some saw firsthand the things he used to do. He could be quite ruthless, y/n. He never cared about anyone's feelings but his own."

Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Are you sure you're not overstating?" you asked hesitantly. "Anthony has always been so kind to me."

Philipa looked you in the eye. "I wish I were," she said simply.

"But the truth is, Anthony Bridgerton was once a very different man. And while I'm glad that he's changed, and that you're so happy together, I can't help but wonder if you know who he is."

Your heart sank at your friend's words. You wanted to believe that Philipa was wrong, that Anthony could never have been anything but the devoted husband you knew now.

But a tiny seed of doubt began to take root in your mind. Perhaps there was more to Anthony's past than you had realized.

"I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love Anthony with all my heart, and he loves me just as much. He's been nothing but faithful and kind since the day we met."

Philipa reached over and took your hand in hers. "I'm not saying that he isn't faithful to you now," she said gently.

"But you must understand that the man you married is not the same man who was running through the streets of London, chasing after any skirt that crossed his path."

You bit your lip, trying to process everything your friend was saying.

You wanted to believe that Anthony was as innocent and pure as you were, but the memories of Philipa's stories kept creeping into your thoughts.

Could it be possible that there was more to Anthony than you knew?

As you sat alone in the carriage, making your way home from your visit to Philipa, your heart felt heavy with doubt.

The wind howled outside, and the horses' hooves clattered against the cobblestone streets, but you could barely hear any of it over the voice in your head.

What if Philipa was right? What if Anthony had been dissatisfied with you in some way?

You tried to convince yourself that it was ridiculous, that Anthony was the most loving husband a woman could ask for.

But the thought lingered, refusing to be shaken off.

Your mind drifted back to the beginning of your courtship, when Anthony had been so attentive, always showering you with compliments and affection.

He had made you feel beautiful and desirable in a way that no one else ever had. But then, as time went on, you began to wonder if perhaps he was growing bored with you.

He had started spending more time at his club, and when he was home, he seemed distracted.

You tried to talk to him about it, but he always brushed your concerns aside, insisting that everything was fine.

You closed your eyes, the tears beginning to well up in their corners. It hurt you to think that Anthony might not find you beautiful anymore, that he might be seeking pleasure elsewhere.

The thought made you feel so insecure, so unworthy of his love. As the carriage pulled up in front of your home, you forced a smile onto your face, trying to convince yourself that everything was going to be all right.

But deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right between you.

You climbed out of the carriage and hurried up the steps to your front door, your heart racing with anticipation and fear.

Anthony was supposed to have returned home hours ago, but he hadn't come back yet.

You knocked on the door, your knuckles white from gripping the handle.

When the butler answered, you forced a bright smile, trying to hide the turmoil within her.

"Hello, Thomas," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. "Is Lord Bridgerton inside?"

Thomas, ever the attentive servant, noticed something amiss in your expression. "I believe Lord Bridgerton is still at the club, Lady Bridgerton," he said gently. "Shall I send up a tray for him?"

You hesitated for a moment, your brow furrowing in confusion.

"Yes," you managed to say, "that would be lovely. Thank you, Thomas." You turned and made your way upstairs to your bed chamber, your steps heavy with unease.

You couldn't help but wonder what Anthony was doing at the club for so long, and why he hadn't come home yet.

The thought of him with another woman, enjoying himself in ways he never seemed to enjoy with you, made your stomach churn.

You busied yourself with straightening the bedclothes and rearranging the pillows, trying to distract yourself from the growing ache in your heart.

But as the minutes ticked by and Anthony still hadn't returned, your anxiety only grew worse.

You couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that perhaps Philipa had been right all along.

Maybe Anthony's past truly was catching up with you, and your marriage wasn't as strong as you had once believed it to be.

Finally, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs.

Your heart leaped into your throat as you hurried over to the window, peeking out through the curtains.

There he was, striding up the walkway, his shoulders squared and his head held high. He looked every bit the gentleman you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

But as he ascended the stairs and disappeared from your view.

Your stomach was knotted with fear. You waited until you heard the butler announce his arrival before you made your way down the hallway, trying to compose yourself.

When you finally stepped into the entryway, Anthony turned toward you, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "There you are, dearest," he said, his voice warm and affectionate. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gotten off to."

Your heart sank even further. You forced a smile and walked toward him, trying to ignore the voice in your head that kept saying that this wasn't real, that he wasn't truly happy to see you.

As you moved toward each other, you let yourself be enveloped in his embrace, breathing in his familiar cologne, feeling the strength of his arms around you.

For a moment, you let yourself believe that everything was going to be all right.

"I was just waiting in the parlor, my lady," Thomas interjected, clearing his throat. "Shall I bring up the tray for Lord Bridgerton now?"

"Yes, please," Anthony said, stepping away from you. "That would be lovely, Thomas. Thank you."

He turned back to you, reaching out to take your hand. "Come, my dear. Let's go eat in the privacy of our chamber. I have something I'd like to discuss with you."

Your heart skipped a beat. What could he possibly need to discuss? You forced another smile and allowed him to lead you up the stairs and into your bed chamber, following him like a nervous child as he took a seat at the table.

He poured you each a glass of wine before sitting back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you.

"Y/n," he began, his voice gentle but firm, "I need to talk to you about something."

Your stomach twisted into knots. "Okay," you managed to say, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "What is it?"

Anthony took a deep breath before continuing. "I love you, y/n. More than anything in this world. You are my wife, my partner, my best friend. But I've been feeling...disconnected from you lately. Like something is missing between us."

He paused, searching your eyes for some sign of understanding. "I want us to be closer. More intimate. I want to feel the way I used to feel when I looked at you, the way I felt when we first met."

Your heart ached as you listened to his words.

A part of you wanted to believe him, to believe that you could find your way back to the love you once shared.

But another part of you couldn't help but wonder if it was all just an act if he was only trying to save face.

You took a sip of your wine, trying to steady your nerves. "I...I want that too," you said, your voice trembling. "I want us to be closer, to feel connected again. But...I don't know how."

Anthony studied your face, his expression softening.

"I think we need to be honest with each other," he said. "To share our fears and our desires. To...explore each other." He took a deep breath, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed.

"I want to make love to you, y/n. Not just tonight, but every night. I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I desire you."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, your heart racing. A part of you wanted to believe that he meant it, that he wanted you the way he used to.

But another part of you couldn't help but wonder if it was all just a ploy to ease his conscience, to make himself feel better about whatever it was he had been doing.

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for some sign of truth.

"I'm...I'm not sure," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I want to try, Anthony. I want us to try. But I need you to promise me that...that you'll always be honest with me. That you'll never keep anything from me."

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I promise you, my love," he said solemnly.

"I will always be honest with you. And I swear I will never keep anything from you. Not again." His grip on your hand tightened, and you could feel the warmth of his palm through your gloves. "I want this to work between us, y/n. More than anything."

You closed your eyes, trying to decide what to believe. Part of you wanted to believe him, to trust that he could change, that you could find your way back to the love you once shared.

But another part of you was still so insecure, still so hurt by the betrayal. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might come.

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zorobae · 8 months

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Luffy and Zoro throughout One Piece (season 1)

Although I've written an entire essay on Luffy and Zoro and their relationship in the manga, I think that their live action versions (and the plot surrounding them) are different enough to make it worthwhile to analyze them separately. So here goes...

Luffy gets introduced to us as someone who is enthusiastic and full of stubborn determination to reach his goal, i.e. to become the King of the Pirates. Zoro gets introduced with a similar determination except that he goes about his goal in a more aimless way. The show never explicitly states why Zoro is spending his time hunting pirates, yet it becomes evident early on that being a pirate hunter is something he does to pass the time or to earn money rather than something he intends to do for the rest of his life. Zoro, the pirate hunter, was in a state of stasis. He wasn’t challenging himself, not moving forward or any closer to reaching his goal of becoming the world’s greatest swordsman. Meeting Luffy is what makes him reflect on that and it’s also part of what makes him initially stay with Luffy. Also, both Zoro and Luffy are straightforward and share the same sense of justice. In fact, there are probably only two things Luffy was looking for in a first mate and that’s firstly, someone who he considers to be a good guy and secondly, someone who is strong. Zoro gets established to be both when Luffy first encounters him.

An interesting change on the show is that we get to see Zoro being recruited by two different organizations. First Baroque Works and then the Marines. However when Zoro refuses their offers, he gets punished for doing so. Those offers serve as a stark contrast to Luffy asking him to join his crew. Luffy doesn't try to force Zoro to follow him nor does he punish him for not agreeing to join his crew. So when Zoro does help and follow Luffy, it is entirely of his own volition. And their teamwork when they fight against Axe-Hand Morgan is just as effortless and badass as it is in the manga. Luffy was definitely right when he said they’d make a good team.

In the first three episodes, Zoro keeps saying he is not a part of Luffy's crew whenever Luffy refers to them (including Nami) as such but he also makes it evident in episode 2 already that he is devoted to following Luffy. And that’s not even subtext but something Zoro clearly states when talking to Cabaji. He not only believes in Luffy but he is also starting to believe that next to Luffy, as part of his crew, is where he belongs. To quote Mackenyu: “Meeting Luffy is the biggest thing to ever happen to Zoro… though, of course, he’d never say that out loud”. Right after they defeat Buggy and leave the island, there’s also that adorable blink-and-you-miss-it moment where Zoro actually turns back and waits for Luffy which is just such... quality first mate behavior.

The first mate behavior slowly but surely gets better from here. Because naturally, the more time Zoro spends with Luffy, the more he gets to see what kind of a person Luffy is. He sees Luffy’s determination and possibly his own reflected in it. He sees his compassion and loyalty and how he’d stop at nothing to protect his crew and realizes that Luffy is someone worth following. And Zoro returns Luffy’s loyalty with his own, so to say. However he still keeps an emotional distance. Or to put it differently, he doesn’t fully commit to following Luffy. And the only reason I can think of as to what’s holding Zoro back is the importance of Zoro’s own dream. He may not want to follow Luffy if doing so gets in the way of his goal. That concern is gone after Luffy decidedly does not stop Zoro from fighting Mihawk. And it’s also why Zoro chooses the moment he wakes up after the fight as the one to vow his undying loyalty to Luffy.

This moment is important for Zoro cuz it is the start of his wholehearted commitment to Luffy and the first time he is “emotional” with him. The emotional distance that was there before — and that prevented Zoro from having an actual conversation with Luffy after he revealed Garp is his grandpa — is no longer here. But this moment is also incredibly significant to Luffy so let me dial back just a bit. Luffy is willing to die for his dream and Zoro has the same attitude. Luffy also said that he “doesn’t do regret”. And yet... he seems to be unwilling to admit it but what else does Luffy feel besides regret and fear when he nearly has a panic attack after Zoro lost to Mihawk. Or when he refuses to eat in order to clean Zoro’s swords. Or when he fails to find the right words to say to an unconscious Zoro. Add to that Nami leaving and Luffy getting bested by Arlong and you have a Luffy who, for the first time, seems to have doubts. In himself and in the path he’s chosen. But those doubts get assuaged by this same moment, thanks to his first mate. In the manga, Zoro is often the only one who understands Luffy and who is his pillar of strength in the rare cases that Luffy needs one. Luffy is always there for everyone when they need him but who is there for Luffy when he needs someone? Well, it’s usually Zoro. And we get another example of that in the following episode.

Not only is this scene meaningful cuz Zoro is there for Luffy when Luffy needs him but it also goes to show the deference and trust that Zoro has for Luffy. Even when Luffy does something Zoro may not agree with, he never tries to undermine his position as the captain in any way. (Zoro has in fact zero tolerance when it comes to anyone disrespecting his captain.) He always follows his lead. Or rather, he always follows his lead in the manga but in this scene on the show, it basically explains why Zoro trusts Luffy’s intuition in the first place.

The respect, admiration, understanding and growing love that Zoro and Luffy have for each other was both wonderfully written and could not have been better portrayed. I’m quite grateful. There are differences to the manga of course but personally, I have no issue liking both versions and I look forward to seeing how having changed the story so far will possibly “change” Luffy and Zoro’s dynamic within the rest of the show~

#one piece #one piece live action #zolu #luzo #analysis #text #my gifs

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chokchokk · 8 months

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since hard hours are open 🤭🤭

cannot stop thinking about possessive san taking the time to body worship you and make sure you know every single inch of your body is beautiful, loved, and only His. he doesn’t care how impatient you are or what you need — in that moment all he’s devoted to is making sure every piece of his love’s body is adored and tended to. possessive san spelling his name on your clit with his tongue, possessive san spelling his name on your neck with his tongue before he bites and sucks as he leaves hickies, just… possessive, devoted san .

FOR YOU(R) LOVE | choi san x fem!reader

a possessive!san hard thought and sequel to: "𝐅𝐄��𝐋 (𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄)"

"Leave yourself all up to me, love."

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : All of his desire is directed towards you, but sometimes, preferably all the time— San just wants you all for himself.

"All up to my love..."

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : hard thought, fluff, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 1.2k

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 : possessive boyfriend!san, tired girlfriend!reader, hickeys, love-bites, implied cunnilingus & orgasm denial; san wants reader bad and won’t hesitate to be bad

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : okay babes first of all thank you for being my first ever hard hour entry !!! i really appreciate you sharing your (god damn scorching hot) thoughts!! second, because i am not over the "intimate, sexy, tender" yet and probably never will be, here's my gift to you that i started writing as soon as i saw it because i wanted to do something for you!!! xx

this is also an invitation for all of yall to share your hard thoughts with me so i can make a thing out of this lol!!! like come awnnnn "choy hardly thinks" is so funny is it not??? like pls entertain me. hard or soft. i'll be there for you !!!! <33 anyway, always grateful for likes, reblogs, comments and all kinds of feedback xoxo

masterlist link | join my taglist

“Mmm, do you know what, sun?”, San murmurs, finally finished drying his wet hair with a towel from across the room, as you cuddle yourself deeper into the blanket side-ways, preparing to finally get some refreshing sleep, after you spent so much time in that putrid practice room.

“What do I know…”

San throws the soaked towel on the clothing rack and then continues to throw his heavy body against your back, immediately enveloping your physique with his arms, one over and one under your waist, to push his face into the nook of your neck. Through his nose, San breathes in the scent of your shampoo, and inhales the sweetness of your skin, as he plants soft kisses onto it.

“I really like how my name sounds out of your mouth.”

“Yeah?”, you whirr, smiling delicately, getting your fingers tangled up in San’s red strands over your shoulder, not yet realizing that two hours after your last carnal embrace, or not even twenty minutes after you jacked him off in the shower, your boyfriend still can’t get enough of you, no, could never be satiated, always preparing to make more place for you in his throbbing heart, especially fill his mind with your voice. “You like it when I call you by your name, Sannie?”

“Mhm,” he hums, and it should have been at this moment you notice how greedy his hand is slowly disappearing below the oversized shirt he gave you to sleep in– little to your knowledge that your boyfriend just wants your scent on his clothing– and catch on the fact you are enamoring San by your mere existence.

“It sounds so pretty,” he lisps, his lips pressed against your shoulder, as he gently pushes you over on your back, “it would feel so pretty, too, sunshine…”

“We’re feeling a lot tonight, aren’t we, Sannie?”, you mumble, slowly feeling your body melt around San’s heated arm securing itself over your waist, his hands slithering down your abdomen, thumb catching every inch of skin to brush over.

San doesn’t answer at first, lets his fingers playing with the seam of your panties and gently groping your breast talk for themselves.

“Sannie,” you sigh out, but your lover has already made up his mind, or at least let his mind run freely.

“Your skin is always extra soft when we’re done showering,” San tries to explain himself, his voice thickening warmly against your neck, and you have to suppress a whine at his fingertips simultaneously finding your clothed cunt and nipple. “Makes me want to touch it, you know…”

“I know, Sannie, I know,” you utter, but your boyfriend is already carrying on with his entranced adulation.

“Makes me want to run my hands all over your skin,” and San does so, by cruising around on your torso, gripping each tit with his calloused hands with an eagerness that makes you bite your lip, “and get a taste of how warm I make you,” you can hear the pecks of his kisses land on your jaw, “shit, Y/N, I want you so fucking bad, I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“S- Sannie,” you whisper, as your boyfriend playfully bites into your ear. “How do you still have the energy…”

“Oh, sunny,” San chuckles and grinds his building erection against your ass, emitting a grunt out of him, “for you I always make energy.”

You say, “I c-can see that,” and lie, because your eyes are closed down, nevertheless making you more sensitive to your lover’s touch, digit rotating on your slowly more and more wet panties.

“It was a long week, wasn’t it?”, San asks and nibbles your earlobe.

“Yeah…”

“A long week of not getting to touch my Y/N…”

“Sannie…”

The man in question hums and gets his arms out, tussling himself away from your side pinning his arms over each side of your head. It makes you need to look up to him through your eyelashes and San looks at you, his so lovable girlfriend, with a hunger and greed you don’t know whether you are prepared for or could ever be prepared for.

“Can you take off your shirt by yourself or are you so tired I have to do it for you, sunshine?”, he asks, wearing a friendly smile that you can only weakly scoff about.

“Sannie…” Unaware that you whimpering out his name only gets him riled up even more, you pout. “Can’t it wait until tomorrow…?”

“It’s already tomorrow, sun,” San smirks, getting both of his hands under your shirt to pull it over and get it off your body, immediately getting his mouth at your neck, causing you to moan out and roll your head to the side, granting him more access to your skin. “I’ve got to make love to you right now.”

“Sannie…”

“Ohhh, Y/N.”

You whine at him parroting your worn-out tone, while San seems to be working his tongue into your neck until he can feel your precious heart pulsate through your throat, sucking red patches of his passion across your collar so you can wear his love like an accessory. You already look so pretty, San thinks, but after your boyfriend sees how his marks embellish you, he really wants you to know what he thinks of you— you, his gorgeous, beautiful, ravishing, ravishable, fuck, so fucking perfect girlfriend.

“How do you expect me to close my eyes and sleep when you look like this, Y/N…”

“Sannie, please,” you murmur, but gulp, when he begins to kiss down your torso; the smacks of his lips linger warmly across your body and San can feel how your cunt clenches— he snickers once he does.

“Just relax and leave it all up to me, alright?”

You press your head deep down the pillow to his words and feel how he’s sliding your panties down. He leaves a trail of deep, rousingly red love-bites that feel like San is drawing the curvature of his lips into you as if you were his canvas— and in many ways, you are— and as he sucks, your mind becomes heavy in both fatigue and pleasure.

“Alright?”, San repeats himself and you nod, floating in a world that’s drowned in your boyfriend’s love either way. Such a dreamy man…

“Yes, Sannie,” you breathe out, feeling San press his lips into your abdomen, ultimately losing the fight of cuddling him to well-deserved sleep tonight.

“Leave yourself all up to me, love…”

Your lover grins, knowing that you will be kicking your feet and screaming at him in frustration at the end of this night, because oh, Y/N, if you thought your Sannie was just going to eat you out and call it a day, you’re so… wow, so… mistaken— San isn’t between your legs to give you a nice time, he’s here to free him from all the dammed up desire, let it pour down on you in the pattern of deeply red-painted roses, scatter them all over your body for him to admire and adore.

It’s what you deserve, having your legs tremble, having your eyes tear up, voice whirring frailly in the air to finally let you cum, as San spells out a eulogy on your clit, pronouncing you his forever flame who will never fail to make him burn hot, ignite him until his muscles give into the heat and melt into your embrace. But until then… It’s a long time coming, sunshine. Haha.

“All up to my love…”

#choy hardly thinks #choi san x y/n #choi san x reader #choi san smut #choi san scenarios #choi san x you #choi san fluff #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #chokkiwa

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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months

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Hi I saw your Astarion x Tav HC recs are open and personally my Tav is a half elf Selûnite cleric.

I just think its a really sweet matchup- a vampire, a creature of the night, and a cleric that always preferred the night to the day. I’m forever mad that we don’t get to tell him that we prefer the moon to the sun when he apologizes for the fact that he’ll never be able to spend time in the sun with Tav.

Just my two cents I needed to share with someone haha

(can't stop thinking about Astarion praying to Selune. I don't think he will become a devoted selunite but he can find some faith within him)

The text of the prayer comes from Selûnite Prayer Book

Astarion x Cleric of Selûne! Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion is beaten and tortured.

His flesh wounds bleed and his bones are broken.

It's a neverneding hell he can't escape, because he is already dead.

Silently, Astarion prays.

His split lips whisper the words of prayer he once heard in a temple.

Dearest Selûne, our fair maiden, weave our hearts with threads of silver, guide us with the light of the moon, and quench us with the purest of tears.

Astarion doesn't have much hope.

Besides Selûne a human goddess, and Elven gods have long abandoned him.

But-

His prayers are heard this time.

A human woman suddenly feels the urge to go outside. There she meets a young elf - and spends a night with him.

She never asks his name and, in the morning, they part ways forever.

But the woman doesn't leave alone.

She carries a half-elf child in her belly.

Probably, the woman never wanted to have a child, maybe she doesn't want to have a mixed baby or she simply can't care about the newborn.

Or maybe she dies at childbirth like many women do.

Anyway, a little half-elf finds their family among the Clerics of Selûne.

You grow up, knowing no other family but your brothers and sisters in Selune.

With a very firm belief, you are born to serve Our Lady of Silver.

Eventually, you are sent to Baldur's Gate - to join the fight against the Shar adepts.

But you never manage to get to the city as the Mindflayers kidnap you.

Astarion lost all his faith years ago and he doesn't remember ever praying to Selûne, though seeing someone so devoted rubs him the wrong way.

Gods never heard him when he was tortured and abused. Why bother?

But you catch his attention. Maybe it's your willpower, your leadership skills. Maybe your looks. You kind nature.

At first, you are scared of Astarion. Selûne condemns the undead and necromancy - vampires are considered the pure evil who desecrate the world.

But-

No one objects that Cazador is a monster. But Astarion?

He is a thinking feeling creature! He didn't choose this "pure shit". What are you supposed to do him?

No. You know the answer, though some of your sisters would consider it heresy.

Astarion has a choice. If he chooses the path of evil, you will be his enemy. You are a Cleric. You know what is right.

But should he choose a good path, you will be on his side.

And you will do anything in your power to help him.

You give Astarion you blood. You give him your body. Your compassion, your kindness.

You mention him in your prayers.

Astarion doesn't say anything to you about your faith but you know he isn't fond of it.

"I prayed to all the gods, including the Moonmaiden. No one saved me."

You made a deal, as people of different religious views do. He respects your faith, you respect his right not to have one.

Post-game you keep being a Cleric planning on rising through the ranks in the church.

You are a half-elf - you inherited ambitions from your human ancestors.

Astarion is still hesitant - he doesn't want you to spend your life in shadows with him.

"Astarion, I am a Cleric of Selûne, not of Latander. I love night more than day and the Moon more than the Sun. I will be fine"

You will forever remember the shock on his face as he realizes Moon shines for the undead, too.

You travel, helping the Selûnites to restore their organization.

One day during your prayer you notice Astarion standing on his knees with his hands in a gesture of adoration repeating the words after you.

Shadows taunt us. Hear our prayer! Shadows stalk us. Hear our prayer! Shadows wound us. Hear our prayer!

He mostly does it because he knows you like it.

You like when he joins you in your rituals and prayers, when he visits temples with you.

It makes you happy seeing him praying and he does it more and more often.

But one day a weird idea comes to his mind.

He prayed to Selûne once. Many years ago. After one especially brutal torture.

What if-

What if she heard him?

What if she sent him his savior? Her servant, her cleric, her devoted Selûnite?

What if is this half-elf he loves so much, whose body he worships, whose blood is so divine - is the answer?

You wake up to him kissing you. His face is red with tears and he mutters the words of gratitude.

From that day, he changes a bit. It's not like he is a man of god - he is still too rebellious to be a part of the church.

But every cleric of Selûne knows that Astarion the Undead is the man any Selûnite can rely on.

There are many rituals he can't partake in but as they say - Moon shines for everyone.

Astarion starts wearing the Selûnite light armour which looks very beautiful on him. Together you go into the most dangerous places - because you have your own undead to save you.

And every time you go to sleep (even if before that you've had the wildest sex possible). You pray while holding each other in your arms.

Selûne, thou with radiam loom, mend our hearts with threads of silver, heal us with drops of morning dew, and sooth our souls with softest starglow.

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

#spacebarbarian headcanon #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #tav x astarion #astarion x f!tav #half elf tav #selunite tav #selune #cleric tav

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tubatwo · 1 year

Text

healing - choi yeonjun

summary: sometimes the world is harsh to yeonjun but you promise to love him through it

pairing: gn reader x choi yeonjun

genre: fluff; 1k words

a/n: this is basically just me writing everything I wish I could tell yeonjun :’) except I had to shorten it cause it was getting too cheesy

sometimes you believed that yeonjun was too good for you.

too good for anyone.

‎

how was it possible for someone so sweet and full of love to exist? and of all the people in the world, he chose you. he chose you to love each and every day. he chose you to completely devote himself to.

sometimes when you look at him, you almost feel dizzy from the amount of kindness resting in his eyes. whenever you talk to him about something important, he listens to every word, nodding and rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand, leaving an occasional kiss.

you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with yourself. and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out why someone so sweet would be the target of so much hate. the thought of it made your stomach churn. because the last thing you wanted was for him to see any of it. you wanted to hide him from everyone. you wanted to protect him.

but that wasn’t possible, and it would never be. the only thing you could do was promise yourself that you would pick him back up every time he was down.

a weverse notification distracts you from the show you were watching. the sight of the fox emoji immediately makes you pause the tv and open the notification, excited to see your boyfriend. yeonjun had gone to work early in the morning while you were still sleeping. he always gave you a kiss goodbye if he left early, but you never remembered due to still being half asleep.

when the live finally loads you smile to yourself at the sight of yeonjun stuffing his cheeks with his lunch. you always loved watching him eat. was that weird? you didn’t know or care, really. you were just happy that he was eating well. you giggle as he does more chewing than actual talking.

soon your giggles die down as you take time to actually read the chat. your happiness quickly turning into anger as you read all of the hateful comments people were leaving.

“what the hell?” you whisper to yourself.

you didn’t care if they were “jokes” or not. what kind of person jokes like that with someone they don’t even know? what gave them the nerve to even say things like that while hiding behind a screen?

the worst part is that you knew yeonjun saw those comments. even if he never said anything.

the sound of the door to your shared apartment opening wakes you from your sleep. you sit up quickly and wait for yeonjun to come into the bedroom.

the sight of you sitting up immediately makes him smile.

“baby? what are you doing awake, huh?” he walks over to place a light kiss on your forehead before undressing out of his work clothes. “i’m sorry if I woke you.”

“no, it’s okay! I wanna hear about your day.” you tell him, and you mean it. you pat the spot next to you, encouraging him to finally rest after a day of hard work. yeonjun finishes undressing, now left in nothing but a pair of pajama pants.

“oh y’know, it was the same.” he tells you while getting into bed, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

yeonjun usually told you every part of his day.

“the same?” you question.

“yeah, just tired now,” he leans over to peck your lips before sliding under the covers to face the other way, “love you.”

the silence after that was almost deafening. “jjunie…” you trail off. you turn to wrap your arm around his bare waist, hand reaching to rub his stomach. “I watched your live today, y’know.” you leave soft kisses on his shoulder.

“oh yeah? i’m glad, baby.” he whispers, not quite trusting his voice anymore.

you sigh, realizing that you’re not going to get very far with this method. you recognized this pattern, and the last thing you wanted was for him to shut down on you. so, you just talk.

“yeonjun…” you begin, “you don’t have to be afraid to talk about things with me. I see everything, and I know you see it too. I can’t make people stop, nor can I tell you how to feel, but what I can do is love you through it.” yeonjun’s breath hitches, but you take his silence as permission to continue. “I love you. you have so many people in this world who love you wholeheartedly. I know the hate can seem louder at times, but they can never take away what you have.”

“I don’t think you truly understand what a special soul you are. you have millions of people around the world who call you “healing”, do you know how special that is? people can say what they want, but they’re only wasting their time. no one will ever be able to dim your light. please never forget that.” you finish and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. you hear small sniffles as yeonjun turns around to look at you with tears streaming down his face.

however, you say nothing. you simply hold him in your arms as he lets out all of his pent-up frustrations. when he’s done, you wipe his tears and press your lips against his. one of his hands cradles your face as he pours all of his love into you before breaking the kiss.

“I love you, y/n.” he confesses. “I love you so much, baby. thank you for always being there for me and for knowing exactly what to say. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“you have me forever, love, so don’t worry.”

the rest of the night was spent with yeonjun in your arms. your fingertips scratching his scalp as he dozed off. truthfully, tonight was the first night in a while where he slept with no worries on his mind. and it was all because of you.

his healing.

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zileans-big-cl0ck · 9 months

Note

Hi! hope you are having a nice day :D

Can you please do Jhin x gn! reader headcanons! SFW and NSFW if you want. Please i´m lacking Jhin content :,)

Thank you! Take care <3

✦–Random Jhin headcanons.✦ SFW & NSFW

✦I will definitely not let the League fandom suffer from the lack of Jhin content!

✧ prompt: ✧ totally random headcanons that just appeared to be in my head, because I tend to think about League of Legends hot champions TOO MUCH.

✧ champions: ✧ Jhin, the Virtuoso.

✧ reader: ✧ gender neutral.

✧ author’s note: ✧ As I stated, I will definitely NOT let the League fandom suffer from the lack of Jhin content, even if this means I have to actually WRITE something AND share this. I’m a 300k+ Maestry Jhin main by the way, from the times I actually used to main adc. A very painful backstory, as you see. (As always, please ignore any mistakes. Let’s say I’m tired.)

masterlist

✦SFW:

First of all, you are Jhin’s muse. You are his everything. His inspiration, his devotion, his deepest desire.

That’s the first reason why must you be protected at all costs, kept safely in his mansion. The word ’jealous’ is not worthy of his exquisite person, therefore he prefers being claimed as protective - he is obsessed with you.

It is somewhat between the thrill of keeping his precious muse close to himself (always skulking, always taking care of them) and the repugnant fear of losing them.

You are aware of his perfectionism, but it does not mean that you always have to be on the alert, be the best of yourself, always present your virtues - for Jhin, you are the definition of perfection, you embody the word of ideal creation. He claims you as the noblest person in the world, despite your free opinion on yourself that can sometimes let you down.

Jhin would never let you think of yourself as unworthy of his love, unworthy of life, unworthy of your body (if you ever even caught a glimpse of that feelings).

He cherishes it, your body, and wants you to see yourself in the same light as he does.

Because Jhin is well aware of the fact, that he is the only one who can gaze at you admiringly and see the whole concept of your person, most true and undisputed. He would never be mistaken if it comest to you, to your goregous person, the one he worships and adores.

So Jhin is a romantic lover. He sees no world beside you, no colors and no inspiration. It wasn’t a long time after he realized that his surrounding becomes dull and monochromatic whenever he finds himself missing you.

✦NSFW:

Body worshipping is not like a thing he enjoys, as an artist, a virtuoso, a connoisseur - he thinks it is crutial, obvious. He treats your bodies like an artwork, a composition of two perfectly fitting sculptures.

I would call him a soft dom, though sex itself is a way to express himself for Jhin. In the end, trivial human desires are nothing in the face of performance.

The moment with him is always intimate; I think he would be against any kind of public sex, taking the risk of being caught as aggravating.

But he enjoys gun play. Whisper is a fundamental part of his life, though it is only a weapon- no, not even a weapon. A tool destined to paint his canvas. It has to touch you and you must shiver from the cold feeling of metal against your skin.

I don’t think Jhin is a rough type either. Eventually, he is a sensual lover, placing a great impact in foreplay and the scene around you, so it can be perfect and remain undisturbed.

He appreciates you being needy, though. Jhin finds it amusing to see you squirming for him, maybe even begging. You can always take advantage of his soft spot for you and those little sounds you make.

He is very talkative during sex. Moreover, it is not only teasing, but also reassuring words and sweet promises.

And he is a man of word. You can await him fulffiling every of these dark whispers, sooner or later.

#✦demosthenes writes #league of legends #lol #league of legends x reader #league of legends x you #league of legends jhin #jhin #khada jhin #jhin x reader #jhin x you #league of legends khada jhin #khada jhin x reader

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misguidedasgardian · 9 months

Text

Desire & Duty (4)

4. Repercussions

MASTERLIST

Summary: You go back to King’s Landing to face the repercussions of your unsanctioned marriage

Pairings: Aemond x Targaryen!reader x Helaena

Warnings: Medieval ASOIF Customs, canon incest, cursing, polyamorous, incestous polygamy, Aemond is obsessed with his girls on girl love 😂, mentions of war and death, SMUT, Ffm, threesome, this people are HORNY

Wordcount: 2,7 k

Notes: This is a short story, no more than ten chapters, so we are going to pick up the pace! a little bit…

You realized this was your favorite position rather quickly.

You moaned when you snapped your hips, feeling the head of Aemond’s cock rub against that special spot he himself had found inside of you. But your moan was drowned by Helaena’s needy mouth who kissed your lips hungrily.

She also moaned in your mouth right back at you, as she was seated on Aemond’s face who was, apparently, devouring her with a need as big as yours, who were riding him roughly.

It’s been ten days and you believed you were as wise in the love making world as a woman of the skin trade. You three never left your chambers, barely a couple of times, once a day, but you were always in each other's company.

Not that you were complaining.

He cummed inside you, again.

Were you with child already? Aemond certainly never lost a chance to cum inside of you, planting his seed in your womb

You were so excited about it.

But as Aemond left you and Helaena to hold each other, he went to prepare for your trip back to the capital.

You and Helaena shared the same fear of what was waiting for you when you returned to the capital, but for now you were going to enjoy the last hours you three had alone.

With Helaena it all started innocently enough, you started hanging around in her chambers, seeking her calming figure, her sweet company, she then searched for yours, until one day… It was a cold night and it had grown late so you didn’t want to make the walk to your own chambers, and Helaena was in a bad place after Aegon seeked her bed with the intention of siring more children, so you stayed the night to comfort her.

And it became your habit, to share your nights, only cuddling, keeping her close, holding her and she holding you back. your bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle.

One thing led to another

One special night she looked into your eyes and kissed you gently, her sweet, soft lips touching yours barely so, it felt so good, only with a feather-like touch you melted in her arms, begging her for more.

The rest is history.

She taught you everything she wanted to be done to her, for you to be soft, kind, gentle, loving, careful, you learned the softest of touches, the sweetest of caresses

Aemond found you cuddling in the bed

“It is all ready and set for our departure”, he said softly, “we shall go in an hour or so, our dragons are fed and ready”

The servants had brought you food to break your fast later in the day, and you were famished, you needed to eat something before your journey

You raised from the bed and helped Helaena do the same, and after you three, together, broke your fast near noon.

You ate quietly, but Helaena had a hopeful smile on her lips

“Can’t wait to see the children”, she explained, “they love you both so much, they are going to be delighted to have a new father and a new mommy”, your chest got warmth with love, you only had devotion and love for those children

“Can’t wait”, you said softly, and Aemond smiled, pleased

“And I bet they will love to have more siblings to play with”, he teased and you smiled, drinking wine diluted with honey

“I bet they would”, Helaena said softly, looking at you

It looked like it all depended on you…

The sight of Dragonstone from the air was breathtaking, still you felt a bit of mixed feeling when you saw it grow smaller by the distance. You had been so happy there with your spouses, and you also knew it was a big chance everything was going to change once you went back to King’s Landing…

Aemond breathed heavily behind you, he insisted he wanted you to ride with him, he placed his strong arms around you as he grabbed the reins to the mighty Vhagar, but one of his hands landed in your lower belly

“Can’t wait for you to grow with my child”, he whispered sweetly in your ear, and you giggled as the warm breath tickled the back of your neck.

You were weirdly excited too, to have his child

“Mee too”, you whispered, he could still hear you, as he held you tighter against him. Kissing the top of your head.

You felt so loved in his arms, so protected, like no harm could come to you.

You shimmied more between his arms, until your back was completely taped to his chest, and he hummed approvingly, the journey that way was more fun and comfortable to everyone involved.

You saw Helaena from afar, flying in the back of her dragon, and she looked back at you and smiled.

Everything was going to be alright, you had your siblings, your sister-wife, and your husband-brother, what could anything do to you?

You also got the feeling that Aemond knew more than he let on, that he had everything sorted out, you didn’t know how or why…

But you liked that prospect, especially for the possible backlash you were going to face with those people in court that were more… conservatives

Before your fears could sharpen into more particular dark thoughts, Vhagar was descending over the Dragonpit, your dragon followed after Dreamfyre

Soon you stepped foot on the sands of the Dragonmount, and a huge comitive was already expecting you.

“King Aemond Targaryen and his Queens”, presented one of the King’s guards

You guessed it was out of the bag now.

A huge carriage, the royal carriage was expecting you, Aemond helped you both inside and then jumped in right behind you

“Is this what you meant when you said you had it all sorted out?”, you asked, and he only nodded with a sly smile

“You are both my Queens, are you not?”, he asked, amused

He had certainly taken care of things, as a huge group of people were ready to receive you as you passed the gates of the Red Keep. They were all there to receive you, and they applauded and cheered once the White cloak announced Aemond and you both as his Queens.

Everybody knew

They bowed as you approached them and passed by them, as Aemond chose the entrance to the castle to be the one trough the Throne Room

The entire hall was decorated exquisitely, and you and Helaena looked all over with wonder, eyes wide open, and as you approached the Throne, you soon knew what was about to happen…

There it stood three King’s guards, each of them had a crown in their hands.

It was a Coronation

Aemond had set it up

He grabbed the first one, the crown of the conqueror, and he placed it over his own head, he then turned to his right, and took another crown from another white cloak’s hands.

It was a beautiful Valyrian steel crown, with rubies, like the one of the conqueror, but it was thinner, more than a crown it was like a band.

“With this crown, made of the Valyrian steel sword of Dark Sister, I, Aemond Targaryen, King of the seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, I proclaim you, Queen Helaena Targaryen, first of her name”, he said and placed the crown on top of Helaena, who fall into place, as Aemond climbed only one step to be above you, Helaena bowed her head as Aemond placed the crown around her head. Everyone in court applauded, he then took the other crown, a twin of the second one, and you took Helaena’s place pretty quickly

“With this crown, I, Aemond targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the first men, I proclaim you, my sister wife, Queen of the seven Kingdoms”, you looked directly at him, and he smiled down at you as he placed the crown in your head.

It felt heavy, but a good heavy

It was beautiful, similar to the one of Helaena, but a different design, more to your liking, Aemond knew you, he probably had it made himself.

“I present to you, the Queens of the Seven Kingdoms”, he said aloud, and they all clapped and cheered

It happened so fast, so quickly, so unceremoniously

But you guessed it was for the best

“Let's greet our people”, Aemond whispered to only you two, and he took yours and Helaena’s hands on his.

You walked until you reached the third story balcony, from which you could see the streets of King’s Landing, and were it was common for the sovereign to appear to greet his people

You were not blind, nor an idiot, it was a risky move, what you had done, to marry not only your brother but your sister too, the people might riot, they might call you names and rebel against you. It was possible, it was more likely.

Nothing prepared you for the incredible chants and love the people screamed at you.

You forgot how Loved Helaena was, you forgot how your grandfather Otto managed to let all the people know what you and Aemond where doing to win the war and “keep them safe” from the “tyranny” of Queen Rhaenyra

The people loved you, their protector, they loved Aemond, the King Regent, and they loved Helaena, the gentle

And it helped that Rhaenyra wiped out most of the followers of the faith the year she became Queen during the war, so the faction that could resist this, were almost extinct

So here you were, happy tears running down your cheeks as you waved at your subjects

Aemond kissed your temple

“I told you”, he said, and now you knew every time he left your chambers in Dragonstone, he was preparing all of this.

In your short hours back in the capital, you had seen all the people in court, people loyal to the King Regent and your family, all of them, and their families

The only one you haven't seen…

Was your mother

Helaena walked in front of you, almost sprinting down the corridor, it was time to see the most important people of them all…

She opened the door and she was received by her two children, now, your children as well, Jahaerys and Jahaera

“Mommy!”, cried the girl, as she hugged her tightly

“My dearest loves!”, she greeted, as she kissed them repeatedly in their cute faces, “I’ve miss you so!”, Helaena’s mother side was so full of light, so warm, and lovely.

Then the twins turned to you, and to your surprise, they ran towards you as well

Jahaera, ever the daddy’s girl, ran to Aemond’s arms, and your nephew ran towards you.

You hugged him tightly against you as you kissed the top of his head

“I’ve missed you too, you know?”, you giggled as he giggled too against you

“We have something important to tell you”, Helaena whispered with a soft smile, the children looked at you curiously

You and Helaena sat by the children in a long chair, as Aemond stood in front of the fireplace

“We are married”, Helaena said softly, “the three of us”

“Really?”, asked Jaehaerys, “Like Aegon the Conqueror with his sisters?”

“Exactly like that”, said Aemond, filled with pride

“Now we have three parents?”, asked Jahaera, with the cutest smile on her face

“Yes”, you said with certainty

“And soon you will have more brothers and sisters”, said Aemond confidently

And now the children were in on it too

It was too good to be true

You had dinner with the kids and then tucked them into bed, they were excited, specially at the prospect of having more siblings to play with

When the night had already setted upon King’s Landing, you entered the chambers of the King, Aemond had them restored, as Aegon had restored from his father

“We are going to need a bigger bed”, Aemond purred as soon as you entered

But strangely, you weren’t in the mood, here you felt watched, you felt judged

“Where is mother?”, asked Helaena, her, as you also noticed her absence

“I don’t know”, he said simply, walking to the table in the corner of the room and pouring himself a cup of wine

“You told us you were going to send her away”, you said carefully

“I haven't gone through with it yet”, he said, sipping on his cup, “are you both not happy?”

“I mean, I’d could use a warning”, you said mindedly, “I might have wanted a nicer dress”, you said, looking down at your riding attire

Helaena give her husband a shy smile, but nodded, agreeing with you

“But it was nice”, she whispered, “what you did”

“It was”, you said as well, smiling, “thank you”

“You are my Queens, I eliminated all doubt, didn’t you see it? the entire city and court is for us, the three of us”, you smiled softly, barely

“Thank you”, you repeated as you went to him and kissed him in the cheek

“I’m so relieved!”, said Helaena, as she ran into his arms as well

Aemond though you both looked stunning, with your hairs messed by the ride here, and the crown in your heads over your rebel silver strands, your rosy cheeks

You took yours off your hair to look at it, it was beautiful, the detail of the Valyrian steel always amazed you, and those rubies shone bright, someone must have spent a while polishing it, it was beautiful and it fitted you perfectly, along the ring you could see designs that alluded flames, like the material itself.

“Did you really melt Dark Sister to make them?”, you asked, not knowing if that idea horrified you or filled you with pride and joy

“Why wouldn’t I?”, he asked then, “I hold the Conqueror’s blade Blackfyre, and our uncle Daemon wielded that sword to try to kill me”, he said, defensively

“It is alright”, you whispered, “its fine, they are beautiful”, suddenly the lovely atmosphere that existed between the three of you, wasn’t as such anymore

And you struggled to figure out why; He had crowned you as his Queen, both of you, he had proven the love of the people to you three, the acceptance of his reign. He had done something beautiful for you all, why did you feel this way?

So what was wrong?. Aemond walked towards you, you warmed up at the sight, you smiled up at him as he took the crown from your hands and placed it in your head again, were it belonged

“I can’t believe it”, you three turned to the sound of your mother’s voice, “you three, here”, she looked disheveled, she looked like she didn’t sleep a second all the days you had been away

Her hair unruly, the first traces of age painting it white slowly, severe lines on her face, she looked like she aged ten years in the last ten days

“This are the chambers of the King”, she whined, you all looked puzzled, and didn’t find the need to tell her that the King was Aemond, “they were the chambers of your father, and they shall not be used for your depravities”, she spilled with venom in her voice, “you should have kept in Dragonstone for all I care”, she said then

“Aemond’s place is here”, you said, “and our place is with Aemond”

“You three disgust me”, she said

“The court and the people took to us, unlike you said, why don’t you”, Helaena pleaded

“Because I’m not an ass licker, or dim-witted’, she said with disgust, like everything you remember ever saying as she spoke to you or any of your siblings

“Mother”, Aemond spoke with severity, “I crowned my sister-wives in front of the people today, they are your Queens now, and they shall be treated as such”, he spoke to her like he was speaking to any other member of court, and that amazed you and scared you at the same time.

That sunken feeling you had in your chest moments before it was due to your mother, now you knew it.

She only shook her head

“I lost all my children in the war”, she lamented, and exited the room

It couldn’t be all perfect, couldn’t it?

@dreamingofyourmoons @aelora-a

#misguideddesire #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x oc #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen #helaena x you #helaena x oc #aemond x helaena #helaena targaryen #helaena the dreamer #house of the dragon #hbo house of the dragon #targaryen!reader #house targaryen

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mellowwillowy · 5 months

Text

𝐈

“I’ve always been fascinated by how the mystery stories genre works!” You beam at your boyfriend as you type out the script to your story, "But I could never write it out properly, only my sister does..."

The blue-haired man smiles your way, reading some of your printed scripts, "Either way, the stories you write are entertaining enough for the people to read."

It's a simple story where some people find themselves at the edge for more despite being a classic plot. The protagonist is a mystery writer nominated as the best-selling author after the protagonist's lover deliberately commits the crime written in the novel.

"Then~! The lover leads the public into reading his lover's work, and soon, the writer is acknowledged as a brilliant writer for being able to write a neat mystery and nicknamed the Time itself for writing something that happens in the future!"

The blue-haired man cocks his head to the side, his mid-length hair flowing to the side of his head, "Sounds romantic. I can't understand why people are so against this kind of love."

"How do you view love, Blue?" Blue shrugs as he chuckles lightly, "Well, to begin with, I think love is just a term for someone to devote themselves to the person they are forever grateful for."

Interested, you press him further, "So what about the romantic aspects? Are you implying that love is just universal, either platonic or romantic?"

Although Blue seems to stop to collect his thoughts, he recovers quickly, "Of course. Attachment love shared by family and friends... and a passionate love shared by... the two of us?"

If anything, you notice a hint of playfulness in his tone that is used to cover something much more sinister. "I've ever read that there are 8 types of love, does that mean we are both sharing the pragma?" (Pragma - Enduring Love)

"Interesting," Blue exclaims, "although sometimes I would think of myself as a mania." (Mania - Obsessive Love)

You smack his arm playfully, pouting, "Oh silence! You are not even close to that! Are you taking the role of the protagonist's lover again?"

"Aaaahhh~! But dear, I was only joking! Seriously, why do people view mania as something wrong just like the protagonist's lover?" You flick your lover's forehead, "Silly you, it's because one shouldn't abandon morals and let their life revolve around their lover."

This reminds you of something that has always been discussed online, of how a hero will sacrifice the loved one to save the world but a villain will sacrifice the world just to have the loved one safe.

"... It's confusing, love is surely confusing when you close your ears to the deductions made by the researchers." "Are you trying to say that you want to understand love yourself without having to read all those stupid reports written by professionals?"

Although he doesn't say anything wrong, you can't help but sulk at his words, "When you start to focus on the term 'Love', another term starts to surface..." "And what would that be?"

You stare at the screen of your computer, a blank open word page where you have not even written anything.

"Identity."

Blue's eyes widen at your answer as he watches your fingers type, "What if those who thought they have found their identity realize that they've never really found it until they are in 'love'?"

Your pinky finger hits the enter button and you begin to type even more, Blue speaks in a low voice, "Yes... this is it."

Identity Crisis. That is the title you decide on. While you can never write a mystery properly, you figure you will manage with how this story turns out. It only requires a conscience and a mind to write it out.

Blue's eyes do not falter from the title. You finally decide on the title of your own life.

#Yandere x Reader #Identity Crisis #Blue the Boyfriend #LIfE Project

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callmearcturus · 15 days

Note

1, 2, 7 and/or 8, 13

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

2 and 8 and 13

Already answered.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

/laughs. Jake's POV chapter in KTOWL. I'll grab some excerpts. MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR ACT THREE OF KTOWL.

Ah, Striders. He was becoming uncommonly fond of them. And how could he not? In Abraxas, every vice and temptation flowed like water from a well, and Jake rarely considered any of them. All the designer drugs their apothecaries cooked up, and Jake stuck to good old dextroamphetamine and calmag.

But now that he'd gotten one Strider and glimpsed the other two? Jake wanted in a way he rarely wanted anything. His hands curled when he thought about the Umbral Executor. Oh, he carried a torch for him. Or, a knife, really. The very same Dirk had flung into Jake's shoulder was always on Jake's person, always in a tidy little sheath Jake had put together for it. He'd wear it over his heart if it wouldn't break the line of his shirts.

Not that the lovely accountant was forgotten. Truly, the manner in which he assumed he was forgotten was enough to keep him vivid in Jake's mind. Sorrow hung around him and clung to Jake in his wake, like a bruise he couldn't stop touching, like a sticky remnant that clung to his fingers no matter how much he washed. Sweet and sad, and Jake wanted to drive a knife through Caliborn's skull for the chance to see him smile.

Jake's POV chapter was all about showing off what an absolutely unhinged motherfucker he is, the specificity of him. And the specificity of Jake Abraxas English is so goddamn important for a lot of reasons, but mainly to make him feel as inhuman as possible. He's the head of a drug empire and sticks to his prescriptions. He got stabbed by Dirk and keeps the knife in a handmade sheaf as a sign of devotion. He thinks killing Caliborn would make Dave smile.

Jake hated losing, and picked his battles accordingly. That one, he kept folded up in his pocket, waiting for such a time when he might win. If only she'd realize his winning was to everyone's benefit.

But that was a matter for another night. For now, Jake mixed some of the botanical gin she always had on hand, cucumber, mint, and a splash of St Germain.

A little of this, a little of that, all captured in glass. Jake never drank, but there wasn't much difference between neon and cocktails. There wasn't much difference between neon and anything.

Jake never loses not just because he's a formidable foe and powerful presence Under the Table, but because he selects his fights like he's counting cards against the universe.

And "There wasn't much difference between neon and anything." Not only does Jake have a batshit way of looking at the world, but he applies the same ruleset to everything, from mixology to gunfights to corporate warfare.

"Isn't that rule one? Never put yourself in a position to lose." She came into view with proximity, melting out of the shadows. Her cane tapped very quietly against the dubiously-colored carpet.

"That is what I say, isn't it," Jake murmured, picking up the ball and starting it up again.

Again, specificity with how Jake phrases everything is-- I put TREMENDOUS effort into every word in every sentence. I wanted to foster this idea that Jake was Crafted. He was created by his grandmother to be this exact monster. So he mentions how he manipulates circumstances to always win earlier, then the same thing is said by the woman who created him, trying to imbue this... discomfort to his making.

Once, Rose had snippily asked if Jake had been grown in a vat for just this purpose, his purpose. He had smiled but had not laughed.

(CACKLES)

It was a special kind of fool who cheated his way into Jake's territory and then didn't even have the decency to have arms ready when Jake stepped into the trap.

The knife Dirk had gifted him just a few miles away in an alleyway in this very city seemed a fitting end for this absolute idiot. Drawing it silently, Jake quick-stepped across the plush (silent) rug that ran from the door to the desk.

There was no hesitation; if the troll looked up, he was done for. Jake kicked the back of the fellow's leg hard, buckling it. The troll let out one of those panicked trills, his hand slapping against the desk.

The muscle in that arm corded as he prepared to shove himself back up. Jake grabbed a fistful of hair— his horns were too short to be of any use here— and yanked him back.

The posture pole pressed firmly against Jake's thigh as he shoved the knife against the troll's throat. "Clementine, what a surprise! Have you done something to your hair? New cologne?"

Up to this point, the audience has mostly experienced Jake through Dirk's eyes, and there's always been an unspoken understanding that Jake would not kill Dirk. So when an intruder shows up and annoys Jake, I wanted his response to feel smart and certain and natural to him. I wanted the audience to understand that Jake is fucking dangerous.

"How much do you love him? Because some things you won't get back."

Jake watched Karkat realize his meaning, dark and bitter chocolate melting across Jake's tongue as comprehension dawned on Karkat's face.

Jake is a freak. He tells a guy he likes, who he's taken an immediate shine to, tells the guy "I'm gonna cut off your arm" and Karkat's dawning understanding does for Jake what any Abraxas designer drug does for the masses. He's a monster, and I love him.

#talking about writing #swdktowl

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zalrb · 11 months

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Sacrifice {SE Sired Fic}

I know there were a couple of requests to include a few things but this is already an extremely long fic and it’s JUST focused on the SE angst so...... but there are a couple of threads of things that might get a continuation if I write a second part. Hopefully it’s nothing but angsty goodness :)

They were sitting and entwined. Elena's legs were wrapped around Stefan, her hands holding his back, and his arms encircled her. Their flushed, sweat-slicked bodies were bare and pressed to each other, rising and falling together in unhurried, deliberate movements as their noses touched, their mouths opened against each other as they shared their gasps and moans, their breaths, as if they were one person.

Elena never wanted to close her eyes but found that she couldn't help it at times when he moved slow and deep and brought her a pleasure so intense she had no choice but to close her eyes to crest the feeling. He put his lips to her shoulder and she brought hers to his neck, kissing his skin when she felt the soft graze of his fangs that made her hold onto him even tighter. Even astride him like this, she ached for more of him and shuddered with the anticipation of him sinking into her and then ---

Elena woke up with a gasp and when she blinked in the unfamiliar surroundings of her motel room and realized Stefan wasn't beside her, that gasp shuddered out to a sob. She curled onto the bed, gripping the scratchy sheets, and heaved violently as the cries wracked her body.

She couldn't stand feeling like this. Like there was a slow tearing in her mind, in her very core that had yet to rip her completely apart. She never thought she'd feel this kind of pain again and she thought that it might kill her.

But she couldn't go back.

Staying away was the only way to keep her and Stefan alive.

ONE MONTH EARLIER

Rebekah cursed herself for her sentimentality. When Elena Gilbert was hauled into the cell across from her, she had relished the thought of watching her suffer a slow, excruciating death. What she hadn't considered was what it would be like to watch Stefan hear the woman he couldn't forget, the woman he'd protected with everything he had including his last shred of humanity slip away. She also hadn't considered what it would feel like to watch Elena struggle to hold onto life in the cell right next to the man she had risked so much for. Or maybe she had. In her mind, it was entertaining, a form of punishment so satisfying it would lessen the tragedy of her own demise. Instead watching them tugged at her, got at her. She couldn't help but be swayed by the sheer obviousness of their love for each other. It made her feel bad and hopeful at the same time; their intimacy filled her with a longing to experience that kind of devotion.

Stefan was saying, "I love you so much" and Elena had begun her confession: "Do you even know why I was on that bridge?"

Unexpected guilt had blossomed in Rebekah's chest. It shouldn't have mattered to her but it did. She'd thwarted their reunion.

"I was coming back for you, Stefan. I had to choose and I picked you because I love you."

It would be sickening if it weren't so sincere. Elena's body was weakening, her breathing becoming more and more laborious but Rebekah could see that even in the midst of a physical breakdown, she was at peace. Being next to Stefan, choosing Stefan had made her at peace.

"No matter what happens," she was saying. "It's the best choice I ever made."

Rebekah watched Stefan cry, watched as the urge to touch him made Elena place her hand against the brick wall between them. "God, it sucks that I can't see you right now."

Her own nagging urge to help them be together, to right the wrong of her interference became more and more insistent until she found herself signalling to Stefan that she would help him help Elena transition.

And she did.

The moment after Elena rubbed some of the guard's blood on her tongue, she felt different. More. She remembered how she felt only seconds ago but now those emotions were extremes; the mourning for her human life, her anger - rage - toward Rebekah, and her ... love. It was the strongest feeling of all, it was almost like it had depth and dimensions, like it was too intense, too big for any one person to contain. The truth of her decision to be with Stefan being the singular best choice she'd ever made in her life made her want to go to him immediately and love him with a dedication that would never make him doubt the magnitude of her feelings for him for even a second. But she could hear ... was that Matt? And Damon?

"It should've been you!"

The sound of bones crushing. Gurgling. No! Elena rushed out of the barn and pounced on Damon, pushing him off Matt, her rage bringing out her fangs and the veins on her face.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE."

Damon stared up at her for a second before he pushed her off him and got up in one, smooth motion then stormed off. She followed him, knowing Stefan would find Matt and take care of him. She could trust him to do that. She could trust him with anything.

Elena kept pace with Damon as he walked to his car. "You were going to kill him!"

"Yep," he said. "Guy just won't die."

They stopped walking and Elena stared at him incredulously. Looking at his irritated, unapologetic expression, it was as if something snapped into place, as if Elena was really seeing him clearly for the first time.

"It's my choice, Damon, why can't you see that?"

"It's a little hard to keep track of all your choices lately, Elena."

He was childish. Always so childish. "You asked me to choose so I did," she said firmly. "And I made the right choice."

Damon turned his head away, as if stricken but Elena continued. "Stefan wanted to save me first and I know what's happening is eating him alive. I can see it. But right now," she pointed toward the barn, "he's feeding Matt his blood, I can hear it. I can hear him tell him to live his life. Even though he’s frustrated, he’s telling Matt not to give up, to get up everyday and live, because he respects me, he respects life."

"No, I respect life," he spat. "I would've saved you in a heartbeat and you would've gotten to grow up and have the life that you wanted; the life that you deserved. And I know that I didn't use to get that but I do now and I wanted that for you, Elena, and I would have gladly have given it to you and let Matt die because I am that selfish. But you knew that already."

Elena shook her head at him, almost relieved in how pointless this all was. "I do know that. And I also know that you never got it and if you don’t get it now, you never will," she said. "I could never have had those things if Matt died. It would have never been the life I wanted without him alive. And you can’t think that far ahead to see that. Stefan can."

Damon narrowed his eyes at her. "Was it ever really a choice?" he asked. "Between him and me?"

Elena bit her lip. "No."

"Right."

She sighed then said softly, "You don't love me, Damon."

He glared at her. "Don't try to make yourself feel better."

"That's not what I'm doing." She made a soft exasperated noise. "Look at what you were about to do to one of my oldest friends. I chose to save his life and you were about to take it, you were about to spit in the face of my choice. You..." she shrugged. "You don't consider anything I want, you don't take my feelings into account, you just do whatever you want because you need me to be alive for you." Elena spoke calmly and simply, as if she were explaining something to a child, which only seemed to inflame Damon. "And I - I get it but ... that ..." She shook her head. "That isn't love, Damon, that's obsession. Like with Katherine."

"Screw you."

"Maybe you can't see it but I can now. Everything is so clear."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Spare me the newfound enlightenment, Elena.”

"You loved her for over a century, Damon, you carried her for over a hundred years, and then you came to town and ripped it apart for her, and she didn't care." Elena watched as the pain of the memory flitted across his face. “What did you do with all of that? Where did it all go?"

He ground his teeth together but didn’t answer, and walked away instead, leaving Elena to stand confidently in her choice.

After they watched the sun rise, Stefan and Elena went back into her room. The intention was to sleep but instead, they lay on her bed, facing one another, their eyes fixed to each other or else taking in the features of one another, communicating in silence. They twirled their fingers around each other, savouring the feel of their skin touching, of being able to do things like this again, of nothing standing in their way of being together.

It was as if Stefan was caressing the entirety of Elena’s body -- the sensation was overwhelming; she could feel the movement of his touch between her legs, and she ached to feel the power of him solid within her, to feel the magnitude of them; she hadn’t realized just how much she missed the love they made during their time apart. The pangs of desire she felt were so acute, she was lightheaded but the only desire stronger than her physical one was the desire to keep looking at him, to study him, bask in his gaze. He was there. With her. Again. Always.

They stayed that way for hours until they finally drifted to sleep.

Stefan spent the next two days, teaching Elena defence, teaching her how to hone into her hearing and how to block everything out, how to use compulsion. First, he’d had her watch him hunt for prey and then he suggested she try it on her own. She managed to catch a deer and feed and the act of harming it had overwhelmed her with guilt.

He wiped the blood from her mouth. “Hey,” he said quietly. “You did it. I know it’s hard, but you can do this.”

Teary-eyed, she nodded at his words, internalizing them, believing them entirely, almost like gospel she had to follow.

His certainty that she could get through this had become her certainty and had improved her mood significantly, allowing her to move on to the next part of his regimen: vamp speed.

It was not going well. In the best possible way.

“Just concentrate, OK?” Stefan put his hands on her waist but Elena started giggling.

“I can’t. All I can think about is your hands on my body.”

“Oh OK.”

Stefan took his hands away, and when she cried “No, no, I didn’t say to take them off!” he smirked at how the absence of his touch made her reach behind and put his hands back on her waist. Her honesty filled him with mischief.

“It feels good.”

He rested his head on her shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He started moving his hands over her arms, deliberately slow. This was, after all, a teachable moment. “What does it feel like?”

Elena inhaled -- he expected her to speak when he was doing that? But now she could tell him what she’d wanted to tell him the day before. “Like you’re touching every nerve of my body…”

Stefan pressed his lips against her ear. “Everything is heightened.” His voice was low and controlled and Elena wanted to jump out of her skin.

He liked that. He wanted to do this slow, wanted her to feel him everywhere, wanted her to bask in the pleasure he gave her until she couldn’t stand it and just had to have him right there.

“Taste, touch, sight, smell...”

He stopped talking and decided to show her, doing nothing more than kissing her neck and running his hand along her waist and her hip over and over to drive home what the simplest touch could do to her senses, spurred on by the way her breathing turned shallow, the way she swayed, rocking back into him. His restraint was a throbbing pain but he was too aroused by the way Elena responded to his touch to even consider ending his teasing.

Elena was dying. He was killing her slowly. Deliciously. She felt the grazing of his teeth on her neck and it sent her over the edge, she couldn’t take it anymore, she had to have him. Now. Right now. Elena succumbed to Stefan’s seduction a second before he was about to give in himself.

She turned around to kiss him and he was already lifting her onto him, using his speed and slamming her against the nearest tree, kissing her ferociously as she climbed off him.

Off. Everything needed to be off. Now. Stefan unzipped her sweater. Elena rid him of his shirt, kissing his chest. He brought his lips to hers, baring his teeth, the taste of her lips making him feral.

His voice was a growl. "Let's do this all day."

"Yes," she gasped. "God yes." She kissed him fervently. "Nothing will get in the way of this."

Stefan chuckled and Elena gripped his hips, pressing him into her and her enthusiasm made him greedy. He was fast, so fast, tearing off her sweater, pulling down her shirt and he was kissing her throat, her chest so that she gasped and held him, bringing him even closer, as close as she could, burying him in her bosom.

"I mean it," she said, lifting his head so she could hold either side of his face and look into his eyes. "I'll kill anything that gets in our way."

She leaned forward to keep kissing him but Stefan inched away from her, his face was flushed and his eyes were inquisitive and searched hers.

"What is it?" She was impatient for him.

He paused and swallowed hard then --- "Let's continue training."

Elena sighed, leaning her head back against the tree and groaned, whining. "No" -- Stefan brightened slightly -- "But I don't know, I guess you're right."

Stefan’s stomach dropped. He staggered backwards, his entire world collapsing around him, everything was off-kilter. God, what had he done? What was he doing?

“Stefan?”

Elena inched forward but every step she took toward him, he took a step back. “What is it?”

He cleared his throat. “"What do you want to do?"

Elena looked at him. “I don’t - I -you said we should train.”

“Yes, but what do you want to do? You, Elena?” There was a hint of frenzy in his tone, his expression.

She shook her head, confused. She wanted to feel him against her again. She wanted him close. "I just - I just want to be with you. I don’t care what it is, I don’t - if you want to train, let’s train. I just---”

Stefan didn’t know what to do with himself. He started to put his hands to his face then put them behind his head. “Something’s come up,” he said suddenly.

“What do you mean? We’ve been together this entire time.”

“I forgot I had to do something.”

Elena didn’t believe him. “Stefan.”

“I won’t be long,” said Stefan. “Don’t worry. I’ll drop you off at Caroline’s.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Why Caroline’s?”

“I just think it’s best.”

“OK,” she said and furrowed her eyebrows when he winced after she agreed.

He started putting on his shirt. “You ready to go?”

“Brave of you,” said Klaus. “To walk right into the lion’s den.”

Stefan had rushed into the Mikaelson family mansion to find Klaus painting in the living room.

“I need to talk to you,” he said.

Klaus didn’t turn around to look at him. “I’m afraid your chatting privileges have been revoked in the wake of you and your idiotic friends trying to rid the world of me.”

“I’m not in the mood, Klaus.”

“I don’t remember asking.”

“It’s about Elena,” said Stefan.

Klaus scoffed. “Naturally.”

Stefan couldn’t bring himself to say the words but he didn’t need to. Klaus stopped painting.

“You think she’s sired.”

He stilled. “How did you know that?”

Klaus chuckled and turned back to his canvas. Stefan didn’t have time for this, he thought about rushing him.

“Klaus!”

“You know what I said to your brother when you were going through your recklessly stupid suicide mission when you were arrogant enough to go up against me? He told me you were crazy. I said whether or not that’s true, the kind of love you have for her never dies. Elena has that same devotion to you. I reckon that’s why Rebekah and her unbelievably inconvenience of a bleeding heart helped you save her. What do you think happens to that kind of love when someone is turned? It creates a link.”

Klaus said this like it was an inevitability, the most logical conclusion but Stefan couldn’t fathom any kind of reality in which he had Elena thralled to him, it was antithetical to everything he ever wanted and the thought of it alone made him ill.

“How do I break it?”

Klaus chuckled and shook his head. “Do I look like a witch?”

Stefan did rush forward, turning Klaus around and grabbing him by the throat. “Don’t bullshit me,” said Stefan fiercely.

Klaus smirked. “I knew there was still some ripper in you.”

“You are over a thousand years old, how do you not know this information?”

Klaus easily pried Stefan’s hand away from his throat. “Maybe because such information doesn’t exist.” He broke Stefan’s hand, making him cry out in pain and fall to his knees.

“There is no way to break the bond.”

“I don’t believe you!” he yelled, holding his healed but sore wrist.

“Oh, come on, Stefan, it’s not the end of the world. Free will is overrated.” Klaus knelt down next to him and smiled. “Weren’t things much easier for you when you were under my control? You wouldn’t be experiencing the pain you are now if you just left it that way.”

Stefan shook his head, a stubborn refusal to accept what he’d just heard. “I will find a way to break it.”

Klaus stood up and returned to his painting. “Ever the optimist, aren’t we, Ripper?”

Elena was on edge. Stefan told her not to worry so she was certain nothing happened to him but he still wasn’t with her and his absence made her uneasy. She couldn’t keep still. Caroline watched her fidget and tilted her head.

“Elena, I’m sure he’s OK.”

“I’m not worried about him.”

“Then why are you so anxious?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t -- I’m not worried about him, OK? I need you to know that, I’m not worried.”

Caroline furrowed her eyebrows. “OK I got it, you’re not worried.”

“Good.” She sighed and put hands to her head. “I just… I don’t know, I hate being apart from him. And I always have. But this is like, i’m---” Elena couldn’t find the right combination of words to express what she was feeling.

Caroline understood it to some extent. She remembered how it felt to turn, how the draw to certain people, one person in particular, was so strong it was uncontrollable. Reason had told her to stay away from Matt but neither things mattered against the power of what she felt. And yet this was something … more. Elena was on the verge of tears.

Suddenly, the door opened and Stefan walked into the living room.

“Stefan!”

Elena strode over and hugged him. Stefan’s arm was already outstretched to receive her -- it was an instinct he’d wished he’d quashed.

He looked at Caroline. “Sorry, do you think, um, do you think I could talk to Elena for a second?”

Caroline nodded. “Yeah, of course.”

She left the living room as Stefan gestured for Elena to sit back down on the couch. Elena was grinning. “You know she’s just going to eavesdrop.”

“Right,” he said with an awkward grin. Still, it was best to have the appearance of privacy. “Elena…” He just had to do it. “Elena, you’re sired to me.”

For a second she didn’t say anything. “What?”

“You turned with my blood in your system so…”

“No, wait, I don’t understand,” she said. “Caroline isn’t sired to Damon…”

Stefan nodded, anticipating the confusion. “Caroline didn’t love Damon as a human. You loved me,” he said flatly. “You love me.”

“What about Katherine and Damon then?”

Stefan shrugged. “I don’t know. Apparently this is a one in a million thing. Klaus said---”

“You went to Klaus with this? How could you trust him after everything he’s done?”

“Because he’s not wrong about this,” said Stefan, shaking his head. “I know he is. I’ve already seen the effects of it.”

“Stefan, you would never make me do something I didn’t want to do.”

“Not intentionally but you can’t live with this over your head.”

Elena nodded. “I agree.” She touched his arm. “So we’ll figure it out. We’ll find a way to break it.”

Stefan moved out of her hold. “Yeah, I will.”

Elena looked at him, at his drawn, emotionless face. To anyone else he would look distant and impassive but Elena could see the pain he tried to obscure. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice hard.

“Elena…”

“What,” she said more forcefully. “Are you doing?”

He sighed and then looked at her, resigned. “You know it has to happen.”

Immediately understanding what he didn’t say, she shook her head. “No.”

“You know there’s no way I could ---”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Stefan looked at her, all pretense of stoicism gone, his expression pleading. “It’s not for good,” he said.

Elena closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. She was at war with herself. One part of her knew that Stefan wasn’t breaking up with her, that he was only protecting her, protecting them, that he was doing what he always did, but another louder, much more urgent part of her panicked at the thought of them spending anymore time apart.

They’d already endured months away from one another and now that they found their way back to each other, admitted they’d never stopped loving one another, would always love one another, now that she’d been in his arms again, kissed him again, now that the hell of their separation was over, the thought of that being taken away for a second time was unimaginable. She couldn’t do it.

“How many times are you going to do this? You did this at the Mikaelson ball,” she said angrily. “You did this over the summer. You did it last year---”

“It’s just until I figure this out.”

“We will figure this out! I’m not just going to sit around and do nothing.”

Stefan cleared his throat. “OK so then you can see if Bonnie has any information and I will work it from my end and---”

“You’re missing the part where we do this together.”

Stefan took a deep breath. “Elena--”

She was shouting. “What did you think I meant when I said that it was me and you? Always? Always, Stefan, does that mean nothing to you?”

He looked at her sharply. It means everything to me. But he didn’t say it. Elena searched his eyes, waiting for a response and when he refused to give her one, she couldn’t help but start to cry, and everything in Stefan shifted.

He touched her face. "No, no, no, don’t cry,” he had said it without thinking but the second he did, Elena took a shuddering breath and stopped.

Stefan started shaking his head.“See? This is exactly why we can’t be around each other.”

Elena reached out to him. “It was a mistake--”

He stood up. “And how many more am I going to make? And you … are you even thinking about how you feel about all of this or is it just about me? Because I know you’re not OK with this but you’re so focused on me.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“This can’t continue,” said Stefan.

“And it won’t! We’ll figure it out together. It’s what I want and I know it’s what you want too.”

“It’s not,” he said definitively. “It’s not what I want.”

Stefan almost faltered at the betrayal on Elena’s face.

“You’re lying,” she whispered.

“It’s not what I want,” he said again. “I mean it.”

He left and when he was sure he was out of earshot, fell apart.

Neither Stefan nor Elena slept much anymore and instead spent their days poring over research; Stefan drove around finding leads that turned out to be dead ends and Elena and Bonnie contacted witches who were either unresponsive or who didn’t know anything at all. Somehow, each day, Elena successfully fought off her urge to run over to the Salvatore Mansion and demand Stefan see her, demand they continue their conversation, demand he stop being an idiot and be with her, but she couldn’t quell the urge to communicate with him at all.

She would wrestle with herself, with the thought of whether or not Stefan wanted to hear from her but then end up texting him relentlessly even though he never replied.

Yet, Stefan thought, Elena always seemed to know when he reached his breaking point and couldn’t take ignoring her anymore, and that was when she’d call instead of text. He’d pick up and say nothing and she would remain silent on the other line and for the half hour or forty-five minutes or hour they were on the phone, they’d do nothing but listen to the silence of the other, able to glean just enough of what they needed from the type of quiet communicated over the phone, and then Stefan would eventually find the strength to hang up.

The phone calls were their own form of torturous comfort but the dreams were even crueller yet Elena didn’t know what she’d do without them. In the moments she did get to sleep, she always dreamt, and she was sure Stefan dreamt the same dreams at the exact same time. The dreams in which they were together and luxuriated in their reunion. In those dreams, he had her against that tree and didn’t stop. He unleashed the frenzy of his passion for her, angling her to plunge deep, to make her feel him everywhere so that she was gasping and sighing with the sensation of him hard and strong and so completely within her, his movements an indication of how much he’d missed her, how much he’d wanted her.

In those dreams, she had him pinned beneath her and gave him pleasure that dared him to ever leave her again, putting her hands atop his as he reached up and felt her, kneaded her, then she stifled his moans with her kiss as she swayed atop him, bared down on him, catching his pants and curses in her mouth, riding him until he begged her to stop and to keep going, grinding on top of him until he was spent and undone, until he vowed to never, ever leave her again.

She didn’t know how, but she just knew they were dreams they shared because those were the nights Stefan came to the house. She could hear him outside, hear his racing heartbeat, hear his ragged breathing. Knowing he was there, hearing evidence of his presence wired her body and made her clench her sheets and it took all of the self-control she had not to go to the window.

She knew the moment she left her bed would be the moment he’d leave the porch, not allowing either of them the tortured comfort of a glimpse of each other.

Going to Elena’s on the nights his body was not only aching but screaming for her was always a huge risk but Stefan couldn’t help himself. Those were the same nights he needed some sort of proximity to her otherwise it felt like the desire for her would kill him. He never went in and he’d never go in, not until this was all settled, but he’d look up at the window and remember the nights and the mornings he spent in that room, in that bed, under the sheets, holding her or entwined with her and the moment he felt his self-control ebb, he’d leave and deny himself the release of even a sighting of her.

Unfulfilled desire increased an already intense focus on finding answers. It drove them both to a feverish determination that obliterated everything else. But it also made it impossible to do anything for certain stretches throughout the day. Stefan could hear her moans; Elena could hear his panting; they could both hear each other’s soft declarations of ‘I love you’ ‘I’ve missed you’, and in their minds’ eye, see the pained ecstasy of a climax on the other’s face

they’d remember those moments from their actual unions, feel the frustration of the other’s absence all over again, a hundred times over, and Stefan could do nothing but sit entirely still as a storm of longing raged within him

while Elena would find herself breaking down from the unfairness of it all.

Caroline had witnessed a particularly volatile outburst after Bonnie left to meet Stefan to exchange some grimoires for some founders’ journals -- they were at a place of research where they figured they should each go over what the other had read in case they could find something the other missed. Jeremy decided to join her and didn’t feel comfortable leaving Elena alone so he asked Caroline to be there with her. At first Caroline was glad Elena was sleeping but then she woke up, looked around, and hit her dining room table in frustration, smashing it in half. Horrified at the extremity of her reaction, Caroline told her she needed to find a way to get a grip.

Elena was furious. “Don’t treat me like that, Caroline.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m pathetic and my whole world revolves around some guy.”

Caroline shook her head. “That’s not fair, I don’t think Stefan is just ‘some guy’. I know who he is to you. But I also know who you are to him and I know he wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself. It would kill him.”

“Getting rid of the sire bond also means getting rid of anything that can screw with my free will. Don’t you get how important that is?”

“I get that more than most,” said Caroline.

Elena saw Caroline’s eyes momentarily cloud with memories of Damon before she blinked away the remembered pain and immediately felt shitty.

“That was …” Elena shook her head. “I wasn’t thinking when I said that. I don’t even know what you went through or how you got through it. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” said Caroline.

Elena nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” said Caroline patiently. “And I know how overwhelming everything feels when you’re new, you never knew heartbreak could feel like this, I get it.”

“I just…” Elena pressed her quivering lips together, trying to keep herself from crying again. “I just want everything the way it’s supposed to be,” she said.

“I know.” Caroline hugged her and Elena started to cry.

When Bonnie walked into the Salvatore Mansion with Jeremy in tow, he knew it would be a difficult visit.

Jeremy looked pissed and he knew he wouldn’t grace him with the same kindness Caroline did whenever he’d see her. Caroline had taken over teaching Elena about vampirism and Stefan had given her pointers to help with the instruction, then he would ask about the progress of Elena’s hunting, of her speed and hearing, her use of compulsion. Caroline was kind enough to only report back the necessities and limit her opinions to nonverbal eyebrow raises or loaded nods. Jeremy did no such thing.

“So, what exactly is your plan because you know that this is killing her, right?” he said.

Stefan looked to Bonnie for help. “Is he right?” He knew the answer but he couldn’t think about it. If he did, he would lose focus, and focus was what he needed to end this all for good, and needed someone to help him keep his concentration.

Bonnie pulled a face. “Do you want me to lie?”

“Bonnie…” He said desperately.

She looked at him sympathetically but Jeremy shook his head. “I don’t know why you’re lying to yourself, you know it’s as bad as I’m saying.”

Bonnie shot Jeremy a look. “Jeremy…”

“Well it is! You know that it is!”

“Elena’s strong,” said Stefan.

Bonnie nodded the way Caroline would’ve.

“What?”

“Nothing, I’m just … I’ve stopped her from running into a burning building for you.”

“I’ve seen her jump into wells for you.”

“I---” Bonnie shook her head. “It’s not in Elena’s nature to stay away from you, Stefan.”

He didn’t say anything right away. His mind went back to one of their desire-tinged nights but this night had utterly wrecked him when he heard her crying in her room and the strength it took to wrest himself from her house had made him vomit before he broke down himself, bashing in the steering wheel of his car.

“I thought out of everyone you’d understand this,” he whispered.

“I do,” she said earnestly. “It’s the right thing.”

“Is it?” said Jeremy.

Bonnie and Stefan looked at him and Jeremy gesticulated, frustrated. “Don’t look at me like that. Sometimes the right thing isn’t actually the right thing. I’ve never seen her cry this much. Even with our parents, with Jenna, with Alaric, she - she, she goes numb but this? This is something else.”

Stefan cleared his throat to keep the emotion out of his voice. “Becoming a vampire heightens emotions and---”

“Don’t brush this off,” said Jeremy. “Don’t make this seem like another symptom of her turning. And it’s not the sire bond, this is her!”

“That’s not what I’m trying---”

“Take responsibility!”

“He is taking responsibility, Jer!”

Jeremy glared at her. “You would take his side,” he said before storming off.

Bonnie sighed, watching Jeremy leave and then looked back at Stefan. “He knows what you’re doing is the right thing. It’s just hard for him to see his sister in pain. It’s hard for all of us.”

“Elena in pain is not what I want,” said Stefan quietly.

Bonnie regarded him. “I know that,” she said, touching his arm. “I know this is just as hard for you and just as painful and just as lonely.” He looked at her to see something like understanding in her expression. “It’s even lonelier when you’re the one making the hard decision.”

He put his hand on top of Bonnie’s and squeezed, grateful for the sympathy.

“You’ll find a way,” she said. “Nothing ever stops you two, not for good.”

“Yo.” Stefan looked up from the mess of papers on his desk and caught the car keys Damon tossed at him as he walked into his bedroom. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Road trip. You’re driving.”

“Damon, if you’d been here, you’d know I don’t have the time---”

“Whoa, whoa,” he said, raising his hands. “Did you forget the agreement we made? She chose you, I left.”

“But you didn’t leave town,” said Stefan. “You’ve been here the entire time, you’ve just made yourself scarce.”

“And now I’m making myself un…scarce. Look, the drive is going to help with the sire bond.”

Stefan looked at him. “How?”

Damon shrugged. “There may be a witch in NOLA that may or may not know how to break the sire bond. I kinda bumped into her in the 40s.”

“Why would that happen?”

Damon sighed heavily and took his time speaking. “It had been suggested that I was sired to Katherine, I wanted to see if that was true.”

Stefan rushed forward and grabbed Damon by the shirt. “You mean you’ve had this information the entire time?”

“Yes,” said Damon.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Well, I thought about it and I was going to, but a part of me, the lesser part of course, enjoyed watching you struggle and then I realized I was being a dick and so now I’m here.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Elena is in hell right now, Damon. And you have information that could potentially end it?”

Damon’s expression turned ugly. “Maybe I wanted her to be as miserable as I was for a little bit. Not my proudest moment.”

Stefan stared at him incredulously. “How could you be so fucking childish?”

“Look, I’m doing the right thing now, OK? Because as much as I want to, when it comes to Elena, I can’t be selfish with her.”

“That’s all you’ve ever been!” Stefan yelled in his face. “The fact that you don’t see that is…”

“LOOK.” Damon pushed Stefan away. “Are you coming to NOLA or not?”

Stefan gritted his teeth.

Stefan was walking over to Bonnie’s. The words the witch Damon took him to, Nandi, had been ringing in his head nonstop, tearing and ripping him, pulling him apart: “You want her free? You have to set her free. Tell her to live her life without you and never think of you again, to stop caring about you, and then leave her. That's the only way around the sire bond.”

He had confronted Damon afterwards. “You knew this didn’t you?”

Damon shrugged, which meant yes.

“You’re a bastard, you know,” said Stefan.

“You wouldn’t have believed me if I told you myself,” he said. “You have to admire the irony, though. To break the sirebond, you have to invoke the sirebond? What oh what is Mr. It’s Your Choice going to do in this situation, I wonder.”

Stefan had then punched him repeatedly, unable to contain the anger that had been brewing in him since he’d revealed he’d had information about the sirebond the entire time.

But still, he needed to get a second opinion, needed to talk to Bonnie about the possibility that there was just something, something they were missing.

Bonnie had told him he could wait for her at her house, that she’d be there in around twenty minutes. He had just stepped into the foyer when the door opened again. He knew even before it opened, from the gait, the scent, the way she breathed, it wasn’t Bonnie.

“Bonnie, I found another one of the founders journals and maybe---?”

Stefan was going to speed away but it was too late, Elena had seen him. She was halfway through the door and Stefan was deeper in the foyer but their gaze, both anguished and relieved, was fixed to each other, charging the air around them with yearning.

Elena walked into the foyer fully, closing the door behind her, and it didn’t take long after that. They were in close proximity to one another for no more than a few moments and their bodies were already syncing to each other, their heartbeats had found the same rhythm, they were breathing in tandem.

His body was hard and sore for her and hers quaked and throbbed at the sight of him; the words they wanted to say but dared not to hung between them but the reality that they knew each other well enough to know what those words were meant they were communicating anyway and it was too much. All too much.

Stefan had to get the hell out of there. Elena had to get him to stay.

“Stefan--”

He made a noise and then shook his head, looking away from her.

“How long are we supposed to go on like this?”

Stefan opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, now determined to keep his gaze averted.

“I can’t do this anymore,” her voice came out in a rush. She closed the gap between them. “I swear to god, I’m going crazy.”

He knew she knew he felt the same way but he couldn’t tell her that, he had to keep as much distance as possible but Elena was getting frustrated. "This is what you used to do when we first got together! Do you know what it's like when you can't even look at me? It’s like when you were with Klaus."

A time he would never be able to forgive himself for, a time where he’d hurt her deeply. He couldn’t hear that. Stefan's eyes shifted toward her and the power of his undivided attention made Elena's breath catch in her throat. His gaze was tortured and burning and fierce with a yearning he was trying desperately to contain and Elena was determined with everything, everything she had to make him fail.

She respected his resistance, loved him for it, but she also couldn't help the overwhelming, singular urge to disregard it, make him disregard it too. She wanted to unleash his longing and bask in it. She'd been left alone with her memories and imagination for too many nights and she simply had to feel him.

Elena didn’t give him the chance to think. She launched forward and kissed him hard and deep

melding herself into him and he made an urgent sound and slipped his hands up her waist, lifting her shirt, so he could touch her skin, feel the curves of her body. But he was still holding himself back -- Elena knew what it felt like to be really felt by him, to be explored and his restraint incensed her, made her physically shake with impatient craving.

"Please," she whispered urgently, pressing herself to him, wrapping her arms around him, kissing him, nipping at him, biting him. "Just please. Please."

A low rumble vibrated in his chest in response. Her neediness for him aroused Stefan beyond reason, triggering a base instinct to do nothing but fulfill that need. They weren’t in his house or hers but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he satiated her hunger. Without warning he lifted her onto him, making her squeal into his mouth,

and pressed her against the front door, relishing having her pinned to him after so many days, so, so many days without her. He continued to kiss her until her lips were swollen, until she was moaning and clawing at his back, demanding more, demanding everything, until the strain against his jeans was painful ---

He ripped away from her, panting heavily. Elena slid down the wall, heated and gasping and wanting.

She watched him back away from her and slowly shake his head. "I'm sorry," he panted. "I'm sorry."

The guilt on his face was unbearable to witness. "No, Stefan--"

His eyes were squeezed shut. "I shouldn't -- I shouldn’t have -- that was selfish --”

"Look at me. Stefan? Look at me. I love you ---”

He was shaking his head. "No, no no, I can't do this, Elena."

Suddenly, he took off.

“Stefan!”

Elena followed him.

Stefan rushed into the Mikaelson mansion to find Klaus splayed on a sofa, reading a book. He raised his eyebrows. “Is this becoming a regular thing?”

“I need to talk to Rebekah,” said Stefan.

Elena came in right after him. “Stefan, what are we doing here?”

“Rebekah, where is she?” he said again.

Klaus shrugged but then Rebekah walked into the room and at seeing a pained and desperate Stefan and a confused and harried Elena, she rolled her eyes.

“Oh my god,” she muttered.

“I take it he told you,” said Stefan.

“And believe it or not, Stefan, I don’t care about your sirebond drama. Not everyone’s lives revolve around the teenage soap opera that is you and your friends’ lives.”

Klaus laughed and turned a page.

“I just.” Stefan took a deep breath. “I just need - I need to see if you can do something, something I can’t.”

Klaus peered up from his book and regarded him. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” he said, smiling. “The only way to break the sire bond.”

Elena looked at Stefan. “What is he talking about? There’s a way to break it?”

Klaus smiled slowly and widely. “You haven’t told her?”

“Stefan?” Elena moved toward him. He moved back.

Klaus closed his book. “He has to sever the connection with you, make you not love him anymore.”

Something in Elena’s mind shattered.

Klaus cocked an eyebrow at Stefan. “You haven’t done it, though.”

“I’m weak,” he said quietly.

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that.” But he wasn’t looking at Elena, he was looking at Rebekah. “Could you do it? Make her forget?”

Rebekah looked from Klaus who made an expression of surprised interest to Stefan and then laughed. “Excuse me?”

Elena's head snapped toward him. "What?"

"Erase it all? Every memory?"

She was going to kill him. "Stefan. No."

He didn't look at her. If he looked at her, he would break.

“Well I’m a bit insulted, Stefan. Why wouldn’t you ask me, your old bedfellow?”

Stefan took a step toward Rebekah. "I said, could you do it?" he asked fiercely.

Rebekah tapped her chin in faux contemplation. “I could,” she said, nodding. “I could take away every bit of love she has for you.”

Elena was frantic. She rushed toward Rebekah. “You wouldn’t,” she pleaded. “You helped him. You hate me. You tried to kill me. But you helped save me.”

“Well, I was drugged with vervain at the time,” said Rebekah.

“No, you did it because you saw how much I love him. It moved something in you. Why would you take that away?”

“It’s the only way to break the sire bond, love,” said Klaus.

“Exactly.” Stefan’s voice was barely a whisper.

"No, stop!" She whipped toward him. "Don't I get a say in this? Were you just going to have them do this?"

He closed his eyes, pained. "Of course not, I'm just thinking of all of the options."

"How could forgetting you ever be a fucking option?” She was shrill and bewildered. “How I feel about you? That's mine! No one gets to take that away!" Elena felt herself coming apart at the seams. Her incredulity started to bleed into anger. "How dare you think that my feelings aren't my own!”

“I know that they are,” said Stefan.

“So then why aren’t you fighting for them?”

“I’m fighting for you.” He could barely speak.

“No, you don’t get to make that decision for me! After everything we've been through? After everything we've meant to each other, after everything we've survived, you're going to let this get between us?"

She was in front of him now, holding either side of his face, forcing him to look at her.

Her face crumpled and her voice came out high-pitched and thick with emotion. "How could you do this to me?"

The pain in her voice tore right through him. "How are you supposed to live supernaturally beholden to me, Elena?"

"It doesn't change how I feel!"

"Who cares?'

She recoiled. "W-what?"

He let out a strangled breath and tried to look away but her grip wouldn’t let him. "It doesn't mean anything, not right now."

"No." She shook her head. "No, it's not going to work." She bore her eyes into his, refusing to let him try and hide the truth of how he felt.

“You think I don't know you? How many times do I have to prove it, you're not going to run me off! You've never been able to, even before the sire bond."

Stefan was no longer able to keep from crying. She wasn't making this easy for him, it was cruel. And he loved her for it.

"What does that matter when you won't know what choice is yours and what the bond is telling you to feel because of something I said or because of a look on my face? Elena, I can't," he lowered his head, breaking. "I can't do this to you. I can't. I would rather give up what we have than keep you this way. I can’t."

Elena watched as the full extent of Stefan’s pain came to the surface and her anger gave way to a rush of sympathy. She could never stand to see him hurt, it twisted her.

“OK,” she said finally. “OK.” She whispered, rubbing a finger across his face. "I understand," she said. And she did. This was why she loved him.

He looked up at her, hopeful and thankful.

She pressed her lips together and then brought her face to his. Elena was grateful that he allowed himself a goodbye kiss, to torment and sate himself on the feel of her lips one last time.

He took a shuddering breath and looked at her and she said again, "I understand that you'd do this" to assuage his guilt. Then --- "But I wouldn't."

And then she snapped his neck and raced out of the house before anyone could understand what was happening. She didn't slow down and continued to run, her vamp speed taking her as far as she could go, because she would rather leave than lose his memory.

#stelena #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #the vampire diaries #dobsley #paul wesley #nina dobrev #stefan x elena #elena x stefan #stelena fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction #tvd #angst

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thebadgerclan · 2 years

Text

Doubt

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x reader x Kate Sharma

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: You never have to doubt their love...

It was finally happening. Your lovers were being more secretive, abruptly stopping their conversations when you entered the room, seeming to be more on edge. Anthony had barred you from his study, something he’d never done, and Kate had asked you to stay out of her wardrobe. The secretiveness was completely unexpected, and it set you more than a little on edge. Kate and Anthony told you that they loved you every single day, but the sudden shift in dynamic had you questioning your place.

You walked a knife’s edge; an unwed woman living with the esteemed Bridgerton family. There were countless excuses as to why you resided with Anthony, and for the most part, the ton believed them. But perhaps Kate and Anthony had realized you were more trouble than you were worth, perhaps they were done sharing themselves with you. They had been so generous; opening their marriage to you, allowing you to be theirs, keeping you, protecting you as though you were their bride. But you were not their bride, no matter how badly you wanted to be, and your life hinged on their mercy.

The tension in Bridgerton House was palpable, it had been for the past three weeks, and when Anthony sent his mother and siblings away for the evening, you were certain it was coming. Of course Anthony would have his family out of the house when he booted you out, he was kind enough to give you that small mercy. Kate had been especially doting on you this morning too, perhaps she wasn’t willing to let you go. So when you were summoned to the drawing room, you held your head high, despite the ache in your chest, determined to remain composed until the end.

But the sight that met your eyes was a shocking one indeed. Candles flickered on every surface, a table laden with desserts was set up, and your lovers stood before you, beaming smiles on their faces. “W-what’s all this?” you breathed, unable to keep the tremor out of your voice. Anthony stepped forward and took your hands, pressing fleeting kisses to your knuckles. “Just a little something to show you how much we love you.”

A box was pressed into your palm, and you cautiously opened the lid. Inside rested a ring; the band gold, featuring two gemstones. One was emerald, which you knew was a tie to Kate’s Hindi heritage, the other an aquamarine, signifying the Bridgerton family. “Since we cannot marry you as we wish we could,” Kate said, kissing your temple. “We thought we could give you our devotion in another way.” Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them back. “Thank you,” you said. “It is beautiful. I love it.”

“That’s not all,” Anthony said, sounding every part the child on Christmas morning as he turned to the sofa, lifting a box and handing it to you. “Anthony, Kate, this is not-” “Hush you, and open the box.” Kate chuckled as you lifted the lid, watching as your face went from confused, to happy, to shocked. It was a new dressing gown, the outside a palk pink silk. But it was the inside that was special. You recognized the white silk of Kate’s wedding gown at once, as well as the navy blue of Anthony’s wedding cravat lining the collar.

“”I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathed, and Kate draped the gown over your shoulders, the silk cool against your skin. “Then say nothing, sweet one,” she said, and Anthony came to your side, kissing your neck. “We love you so much, Y/N, and we want you to feel as loved as possible.” “I do, Anthony,” you said through tears. “This is incredible, I love it, I love you. Thank you.” “You needn’t thank us,” he said, and Kate hummed. “Yes,” she agreed. “All we ask in return is your love.” You smiled, happily leaning into their embraces. “You have it,” you said. “You always will.”

#poly!kanthony #anthony bridgerton x reader x kate sharma #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction #kate sharma x reader #kate sharma x anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x kate sharma #kanthony #kate x anthony #anthony x kate #bridgerton reader insert

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dragons-and-handcuffs · 4 months

Note

If Aemond and Aerys’ daughter were in love, Aemond would absolutely recognize his feelings before she does. But Aemond is ever driven by duty. He may love her. But he thinks she needs him more as support alone. As her confidant and comrade. As her dear uncle. Nothing more

He doesn’t realize his feelings would be returned. The princess however doesn’t know that’s what it is. She’s always been close with him. She just files it away as leftover worry for his safety. There’s too much in the realm right now to think about anything else. She can’t lose focus. Or he’ll end up hurt again

Aemond does see how she desires a love like her parents. And no, Aerys and him approve of no one. He thinks himself a hypocrite for in some way wishing he could give her that.

Ironically ending up in the very position Aerys was in with his niece. Never saying the words. For her sake just enjoying the small things a little longer. Oh and Aerys and his niece noticed. The niece first. She’s not a fool. But she didn’t have to tell her husband, he picked up not long after. They share glances and some words, their own way of communicating that they’re aware

Aerys does think no one worthy of his daughter. He doesn’t feel the need to lock her away to keep it like that, she was trained well enough. Doesn’t mean he’d approve just anyone she brought around though. Or that THEY would be safe from him. But he knows Aemond well. Arguably the sibling he’s closest with

He knows Aemond’s devotion to duty above all else. No feelings are enough for Aemond to betray what he believes is his duty. To be there for the princess. Aerys may know his brother. And out of everyone he would trust his daughter with, Aemond may come closer than others

However in his eyes, there is one large difference. Aemond’s devotion to duty. Aerys did have a lust for power, and he wanted the throne. But he wanted his niece more. Every moment, he chose her above all else. Her hands are the only ones he finds peace in. Her gaze is one of the only that matters. The thing he knows keeps Aemond from making a first move is also the thing that causes him worry. His daughter wants devotion. He does not know if Aemond would be more devoted to her than his duty. He trusts and loves his brother. But a small part of him worries for the heart of his daughter. She is strong. She’s no fool. But like her mother, she feels deeply. He thinks it one of her greatest strengths. He does not wish the qualities he admires so much in his brother and daughter to be their undoing.

Him and his wife quietly agree to leave it alone. The choice is ultimately in their daughter’s hands. If she falls for Aemond, he would return it. If she wants him and chooses him, they will not stop her. They’d almost be hypocrites themselves in a way if they tried. And if she chooses to move on and not return it…. That is her choice and hers alone

It’s something all three of them understand

But for now, Aemond takes simple joy in the small moments of kindness they share. The books they exchange. The small gestures to check for each other’s safety during battle

And the quiet moment Aemond and the princess share. When they sit together in the light of the small fire they built after fleeing the battlefield. Both too tired to move for now. With only each other. For now Aemond lets himself indulge in that softness at least

For even if she is not his, and never will be, at least he can’t say he was never happy to be by her side

Imagine the princess's dragon is injured and can't really carry her. Imagine she and Aemond riding Vahgar. Her leaning against his chest, and his hands on her waist. She just loves flying and it was almost therapeutic. And Aemond just can't stop watching her.

Imagine there is a feast and the princess is dancing with someone who is desperately trying to win her heart. Aemond interrupts them and has a dance with her. Telling her no man in the hall is worth her time. And she is like "I hope you are not counting yourself, uncle. Otherwise you would be so wrong, and I know you hate being wrong."

Remember that look Aemond gives Haelena when he enters the room and sees her? That the look he gives the princess when he sees her after a day or two.

Imagine Aemond gifting her a dainty necklace with a blue sapphire one that she can wear everyday. Usually it's daggers or a sword, but the necklace symbolizes something different. And for the princess it's worth more than every jewel in the palace. Imagine the moment he puts the necklace around her neck. His touch not leaving her. The princess starting to breathe a little heavily as she can feel something shifting between them

#aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #game of thrones imagines #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd one shot #house of the dragon imagine #aerys targaryen x reader #aerys targaryen

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peachymilkandcream · 4 months

Text

Break Me Slowly|Part 20|Yandere Levi x Eveyln

(A/N: Part 20!!!! It's honestly so crazy that we've gotten this far, I don't think anyone realizes the brain rot this once was for so long. I held off writing it because I thought that no one would even be remotely interested in it and yet here you all are. Thank you so much for all the support! Reply to be added to the taglist, and hit up my inbox guys with your requests and questions!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

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Carnage was an understatement. Evelyn was used to battlefields, having had her full of it during her Scout days. The difference had always been that it was mindless Titans versus her comrades. Now it was two groups of people, both genuinely thinking they were in the right and had to die to defend that belief of being right. The grey armbands on the Marley soldiers did nothing to ease her conscience, these weren't those rich snobs who hated her people, they were all the same just misguided.

The sight of the Armored Titan created a lump in her throat, she hadn't seen him since the betrayal. And while he didn't witness her first hand turning on those who offered her even a short period of grace from her husband, undoubtedly he had heard from elsewhere. What was he thinking now? More than likely he hated the air she breathed, but that was something she would come to bear. Maybe this was a good taste of his own medicine, after all, he swung first.

Surprisingly, that belief in a dream that they could share was all but a foggy memory now. Something born out of desperation to be free, going from one man to the next hoping this one would protect her better than the last. She was so pathetic. After all this time she was probably finally cracking, Levi could have even woven some truth in the lies he fed Hange to convince her their marriage was perfectly normal and Evelyn was the problem.

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Evelyn was dumped onto the "protection" of Yelena, here she was, the supposed missing piece between the two brothers, and yet she had to be babysat since she was a coward. They weren't wrong, her strong suit was ODM gear, the destruction her Titan caused terrified her into never using it. She was always afraid of accidentally killing her own, there were already so many death she felt responsible for, she didn't want to take the chance to add anymore to the list.

"Marvelous, isn't it?" The tall woman approaches her from the side, at only five foot, Evelyn is drastically dwarfed by her.

"I suppose it is." Once a stronghold against the Titans, now this fort was stained with the blood of her comrades.

"None of this would have been possible without all of you."

"I have done nothing. Eren and Zeke have done all the work while I hide in the sidelines like a coward."

Yelena scoffs. "Don't doubt yourself so much. You're a critical piece regardless, standing on the sidelines has kept you alive and safe long enough to see this come to fruition."

Evelyn goes silent, Yelena's words are kind but do nothing to quiet the discomfort in her heart. Once again her thoughts travel to Levi and his fate. With any luck, he survived just to continue to haunt her steps. Would he recover or die of his injuries eventually? He would want her by his side regardless, the guilt and hatred fought so hard inside her it was making her nauseous.

"Yelena, if it ever came out that Zeke was actually a horrible person, would you still support him and his dream?"

"That would never happen."

"Just- hypothetically, humor me."

She sighs, taking a moment to formulate an answer. "Yes, I still would."

"Why?"

"Because I am utterly devoted to Zeke in every way, someone with a bond as close as ours, even though it's not romantic, should hold to it at all costs. Even if he was a horrid person, you accept it and continue to stay devoted because that is your duty, no matter what."

Evelyn chews her lip, that wasn't the response she wanted to hear. She wanted Yelena to proclaim that she would never stand with a person like that, that she would sell them out and cut them from her life. A response like that would've made her decision so much easier.

Silly how that's what she was worried about when people were dying for her, for their cause, beneath her. They were bleeding out and she was deciding if she wanted to forgive Levi.

Forgive Levi. Where had that thought come from?

How could she do such a thing? After it all? That would be treasonous to herself, everything she fought for, all her beliefs would be burnt to ash. Evelyn always believed that she would make something of herself and yet her she wanted to crawl back to her safe place and be everything Levi said he wanted. No, she couldn't.

But she would. Her mind was made up, she couldn't raise this child on her own. Levi's connections, money, her child would have the best life that could be obtained. She needed it, as much as that took to admit, she needed him. She was scared, on her own, starting over once again but in a much more vulnerable position. Maybe to make sure it would be safe for the baby she would trial run it of sorts, be everything he wanted, for real this time, and if he was kinder then she would stay, if he was worse or unfeeling about the child she would rough it on her own. It was disgusting how much she wished he was kind enough that she could stay, how much she wished he would live so she could crawl to him on her knees and beg him to continue loving her. For all the shit he'd been through she'd ride him until his cum flowed out of her. He'd continue to love her, she'd survive. Who knows, maybe she'd come to love the bastard.

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The roar of the Beast Titan shakes her from her inner monologue, thousands of lights soaring into the sky. It was happening, all those they had threatened with the bleak reality of life as a Titan were now sealed to that fate. Titans springing forth from the ground as they mindlessly pawed at the Marley soldiers attempting to flee. What a waste. All this death. It made her sick.

Evelyn stepped forwards while the other Jeagerists behind her watched in sick fascination as their former friends ate ill-prepared soldiers. No one noticed as she stepped closer and closer to the edge, Titans smelling the flesh within and clamoring closer and closer. She had to get down there, it was time, if she just made contact, whether Eren and Zeke were ready or not, this would all be over.

Yelena noticed too late that Evelyn was gone, snipers and gunmen from the enemy began to train their barrels on her, but quickly lower them as she walks seemingly unaware right into a small group of Titans. The fool was going to commit suicide? Now?

"Evelyn!"

She stares straight ahead, and just when it seems that she's to be devoured she turns on her heel and points towards the enemy, a fierce glow in her eyes.

The Titan's hesitate before rushing to the enemy, ripping them to shreds and allowing Evelyn to pass. This was something Yelena's surveillance hadn't mentioned, whether this was normal or a product of the Founder and royal so near, no one could tell. Being a descendant of Maria directly it could be argued Evelyn was royal herself, but who knows what would happen when any of these forces mixed.

================================================

Evelyn kept to hiding behind buildings and in doorways while hurrying toward the Jeager brothers. That little trick of hers had worked once, best not to test her luck just in case. Plus it would cost her precious time.

As she rounded a corner she finally saw the two brothers, Zeke was on the ground reaching for his brother who ran towards him, dodging debris and bullets. She had to get over there now, a second too late and this would all be for nothing, all this death would be pointless.

The distance between the three of them varied so Evelyn made it to Zeke first, whether his body was crushed or simply stuck she didn't know. In honesty she didn't know what would happen next, all Eren had told her is that Zeke believed they were going through with the euthanization plan while Eren intended to create a small scale rumbling and crush Marley. The exact process of events was still unknown to her, but she supposed that Zeke being free could be vital if he had to fight so she tried with all her might to help him to his feet. She wasn't focused on the bullets, the shouting, the ringing in her ears tuning it out. He was heavy, all of her pulling amounting to nothing, as she couldn't do such a simple task. If she didn't pull herself together they'd all be gunned down like dogs.

A piercing boom shattered the numbness around her, subconsciously her eyes travelled to the spot where the sound came from. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, her desperate attempts to be useful, Zeke reaching for his brother, bullets raining down on them, and Eren's head disconnecting from his body.

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The feeling could only be described as waking up from a long sleep, the sudden jolt mixed with slowly coming around to your surroundings. That was what it was like when the three made contact, it was like all of them were suddenly awake in an infinite void.

The Jeager brothers were talking about something she couldn't hear. Maybe something she was meant to hear. But that wasn't what was on her mind, she looked down to see a wooden pail in her hands, wondering what it was doing there. However instead of putting it down she carried it, closer and closer to the brothers until she stood, no wait, she was kneeling wasn't she, in front of them.

Their voices sounded like they were underwater, she couldn't quite make out what was being said. Even when Eren was looking right at her and speaking, nothing intelligible came out. What was going on, why they were here, it was as if she just forgot. Her mind did circles trying to figure out why she was here, what they were supposed to be doing, but nothing became any clearer.

"Ymir, alter your descendants bodies so that they can never have children." It was Zeke's voice, clear and able to understand. But she could never do that, she wanted children, no one in Eldia deserved to have that taken away.

Evelyn's mouth stayed shut, unable to process. And to her horror her body began to move on its own, turning from the two as they continued to argue underwater while she walked towards the bright light. It was like she was in a dream, unable to stop or have a will of her own, she was just walking, walking.

The vague thud of footsteps seemed to be coming from behind her but she couldn't turn to look. A slight tinge of fear jolted through her, her imagination running wild with what sort of thing could be coming after her in this abyss.

Suddenly Evelyn was being stopped, arms tight around her and prohibiting her movement. Her body still wanted to move and tried to but was held firmly in place.

"Is it you who led me all the way here?" It was Eren's voice this time, which was odd since she couldn't hear him before, but could now. "You have been waiting, all this time for someone. Since two thousand years ago."

She had been waiting, but for what, what was she waiting for. All she recalled was pain, anger, death and suffering, there was no joyous moments, faces she didn't recognize paraded through her mind.

"You're no slave. You're no god, you're just a person. You don't need to serve anyone. You can be the one to choose. You get to decide. Stay here for eternity, or end it all."

More distant thuds, that underwater shouting.

"I'll put an end to this world! Give me your strength!"

Something in her was screaming to say no, something deep down was telling her only Marley was the plan. But it seemed so far away like everything else. So in that split moment in her mind she said yes.

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It was like she came up for air. Her body could move on her will now and not someone else's, every sound was crystal clear. What had happened felt like an eternity ago, and it seemed like nothing came of it. It was a harmless thought, right?

Sparks started before a boom, the catalyst to the carnage to come. Evelyn ran for cover, diving behind a chunk of debris as she watched in horror as bones protruded out of Eren's head. The walls shook and cracked, what had she done? What he said, ending the world, did he mean their enemies? Or-

One moment she was watching in sick fascination and fear at the sight before her eyes, the next she was back in that place. However she wasn't alone this time, comrades, friends, enemies, all there at once. They all looked at each other to figure out what this meant until collectively they heard the same voice.

"Hear me, Subjects of Ymir. My name, is Eren Jeager. I'm addressing my Subjects of Ymir, speaking to you directly through the power of the Founder. All the walls on the Island of Paradis have crumbled to the ground, and the legions of Titans buried within have begun their march. My only goal is to protect the lives of the people of Paradis, the island where I was born. Right now, the nations of the world are united in their desire to exterminate my people. And it won't end with our island. They won't be satisfied until every last Subject of Ymir is dead. I won't let them have their way. The Titans of the walls...they continue their march, until every trace of life beyond our shores is trampled flat. And the people of Paradis are all that remains of Humanity."

The next moment they were back to reality, but their fear and shock remained the same as the walls began to break and move. Legions on legions of Titans leaving Shiganshina and heading to the world, blissfully unaware that their blood would soil the ground. It was all her fault, it had been one thought but it was her fault.

What had she done?

#break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader

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