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moronkombat · 11 months

Note

Yandere Bi Han with his very pregnant wife runs away from him seeing how he turned to and stay with her brothers in laws as she wants to protect the baby

How would each brothers perspective when reader did that?

this is some good food. tw: yandere, pregnancy, afab pronouns

General headcanons

Bi-Han met her just once but it was enough for him to be consumed by her memory

He doesn't understand why he thinks of her so much and that bothers him. He hates that she is all he thinks about. He can't stand it

She must be his. It is the only way for him to stop thinking of her all the time. Yes, if she were right here in front of him, he wouldn't long so desperately for her

Bi-Han gradually builds up a relationship her and it seems to go fairly well between them and he finally begins to feel at ease knowing she is by his side

The love between them is sweet but Bi-Han a slow acting poison and his corruption grows and grows until there is nothing left of him any longer

He craves to have a son with her, to continue his legacy and so he tries to conceive with her frequently but he is never cruel during it

It soon becomes an obsession of his to have his wife deliver him a son worthy of the Lin Kuei name and finally it seems his efforts pay off but his mind continues to warp and break

He becomes suffocating, all consuming when it comes to his wife and unborn child. Bi-Han never lets her leave or go anywhere

Bi-Han tells her she doesn't need to be anywhere else expect home and in bed as their child grows inside her

Things only worsen when he is brought away by Liu Kang and given that taste of freedom. It destroys him and the world begins to crash down

He tells her how the Lin Kuei will be better and stronger. That they should rule and lead the world instead of serving it. She is horrified, terrified. Where is the soft and gentle man she married?

All but gone that man is...replaced by someone savagely obsessed with power and greatness. She is helpless to change it, to change him back to the man she loved

Bi-Han tells her that his brothers are traitors, better off dead but not to worry because he will never let her leave. She will be with him forever and ever

She cries at night, thinking about all the horror Bi-Han has started to act upon. These suits of armor, weapons of horrible destruction...this isn't right

This isn't the peaceful life he promised her and their child. This is a hellish war and Bi-Han tell her how their son will be his legacy. How he will use his son as a tool for domination

She can't stand it. She begs for Bi-Han to stop this and to come back to her as the man she fell in love with. This impossible and Bi-Han lashes out

He strikes her, hard and firm. As she crashes to the floor with blood dripping down her lip, he scolds her for being so weak and for trying to betray him

Bi-Han tells her that she will learn to accept this life because if she doesn't then she will never see her child once they are born and that is when she can no longer stay with him

She flees, running far away from her crazed husband and how horribly she cries as she does this. Her hands cradle her now heavy stomach, Bi-Han's son is due soon but she must never let him know his father

What is she to do? She is alone and heavily pregnant with the heir to the Lin Kuei. Her heart hangs heavy and she can only think of two people

The two people she had come to know as family but was told were traitors. They were her hope. Not just for her but for her son. If they refused her, she could live with that but they must take in her son once he is born. Bi-Han must never find him

To say he is shocked would be a grave understatement. Kuai Liang thought he would never see her again. Not since what happened between him and Bi-Han

He knew of your pregnancy and was happy for you and Bi-Han. The last he knew, the two of you were happy together

Because of this Kuai Liang is suspicious and even a bit threatening when he sees her at the Shirai Ryu villa

He would draw is weapon and warn you that he will not give you mercy if you are here on Bi-Han's behalf

Kuai Liang watches as through labored breaths you cry and sob, falling to your knees unable to get out what you want to say

His resolve begins to weaken as he watches her fall apart and he is reminded of the fond memories between the two of them

She was his friend before she become a sister-in-law and Kuai Liang still cherishes that friendship but is unsure of how to act

Tomas convinces him to lower his weapons and hear you out and when he does, he is at a loss of words and full of despair

To hear what his brother has become, how he has treated her is enough to break his heart all over again and he knows he cannot refuse sheltering her

Kuai Liang treats her with kindness from that point on. He tells her that she may stay as long as needs and that her baby will be safe here

Though he knows Bi-Han will not sit idly and allow this. He knows this will bring great danger to his home and family but she is his family too and so he will house and protect her

Tomas had always been fond of his brother's wife and cared for her deeply

Truth be told, he was always a bit envious that Bi-Han was her husband but she seemed so happy that he kept quiet

Imagine his shock when he finds her kneeling on the ground and sobbing like he's never heard before

His eyes are instantly drawn to her stomach that she holds so tenderly and he rushes to her side

Tomas would kneel down next to her, unsure of what to do with his hands. He settles for lightly holding onto her shoulders before looking up to Kuai Liang

He tells him to put down that weapon and listen to her. Tomas asks him if he doesn't see how scared and frightened she is and finally Kuai Liang hears her out

When he hears all that has happened, Tomas is enraged. He has never felt such a wrath before and when she finishes her story, he takes her into a tight hug and tell her everything will be alright

For him it was never a question whether she could stay or not. The Shirai Ryu would be her new home and Tomas would protect both her and her unborn son

He doesn't care that it is Bi-Han's child she carries. The child is innocent and is clearly loved so dearly by its mother

Tomas is no fool. He knows Bi-Han will come looking for her and will raise every hell possible in order to obtain his wife but it doesn't matter to him. He will take care of her and her unborn child

It hurts to hear her try and be hopeful that Bi-Han will stop this madness and return back to how he used to be. Tomas knows that will never happen but he doesn't have the heart to tell her that. So he is left to letting her dream of such an unrealistic wish

There is no greater rage in all the realms than what Bi-Han burns with. How dare she leave. How dare she run away with his son

She belongs to him and so does their child. How could she leave him? How could she abandon him just like everybody else?

It can't be true. It just can't. His wife, his dearest love and mother to his child couldn't leave him. Something must have poisoned her mind

Surely that is it. There some twisted thoughts planted in her head that leads her away from him

Bi-Han thinks to himself that when he finds her will have to put her in a pretty little cage just like a songbird

Yes, if he kept her hidden away, only exposed to him then she would never think of leaving again. He must bring her back home and lock her away in a place known only to him

There is a seething wrath knowing his son has been taken from him. That was his prodigy, his grand design to lead the Lin Kuei. How dare his son be withheld from him

Great deal of punishment will be delt to the mother of son in order to teach her the importance of having a father and son know each other

There will be even more suffering brought upon those who keep his family away from him. How dare they keep that what is his from him

Bi-Han knows where his wife has fled to. How could he not? He is in the clutches of his wretched brothers

He vows to kill them, to snuff out the life from their souls while she watches and hears them scream

He will tear them apart as a bear does to a doe. He will leave nothing left of them expect mangled gore and echoing screams

Only then will he bring his lovely wife and son home. He will never let them leave again. If he must break her pretty legs so that she may not run then so be it

Bi-Han will teach her that a wife's place is that next to her husband. That is something that will never change. That is where she belongs and he will keep her there until she accepts her role as his wife and mother to his children

War will be waged in order to bring his wife back. Nothing and no one will stop him

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skywalker1dream · 4 months

Text

Part two of web of obsession series

part one | part two | part three |

note: I don't know how to feel about this tbh...but it was fun to write it...

warnings: ehh

---------------------

Months had passed since Carlos had taken away your freedom, locking you up in his apartment. The days blurred together in a monotonous haze, your once vibrant spirit slowly eroding under his constant watch. Carlos planned everything meticulously, from your daily routines to the occasional outings he allowed. These brief escapes were always tightly controlled, with one unbreakable rule: you were never to leave his sight.

One afternoon, Carlos entered the bedroom where you sat by the window, staring out at the world you could no longer freely engage with. He carried a large box, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Mi amor, I have a surprise for you," he announced, placing the box on the bed.

You looked up, curiosity mingled with a familiar dread. "What is it?"

"Open it and see," he urged, his smile wide and expectant.

You hesitated, then slowly lifted the lid. Inside was a beautiful red dress, elegant and expensive. "It's lovely," you said softly, your fingers brushing the fabric.

"We're going out tonight," Carlos said, his voice tinged with a possessive pride. "I want you to wear this. We're going to a very special restaurant."

That evening, Carlos watched as you put on the dress, his gaze intense and approving. He helped you with your hair, his fingers brushing against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "Perfect," he murmured, his lips grazing your ear.

He led you to the car, his grip on your arm firm but not painful. As you drove through the city, you marveled at the lights and sounds, a stark contrast to the suffocating silence of the apartment. For a moment, you almost felt like yourself again.

The restaurant was luxurious, the kind of place you used to dream of visiting. Carlos guided you to a table near the back, his eyes scanning the room for any potential threats. You sat down, the soft glow of the candles casting shadows on his face, making his expression seem even more intense.

As you sipped your wine, trying to enjoy the rare moment of freedom, your eyes wandered around the room. Suddenly, they locked onto a familiar face. James, your ex-boyfriend, was seated a few tables away, laughing with friends. Your heart skipped a beat, a mix of longing and fear coursing through you.

Carlos noticed the shift in your demeanor and followed your gaze. His eyes narrowed when he saw James. "Who is that?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

"An old friend," you lied, hoping to avoid a scene.

Carlos's hand tightened around his wine glass. "I don't believe you."

Before you could respond, James looked up and met your gaze. Recognition flickered across his face, and he stood up, making his way toward your table. "Hey, is that really you?" he asked, his voice filled with surprise and concern.

Carlos's eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "Yes, it's her. And who are you?"

James glanced between the two of you, sensing the tension. "I'm James, an old friend of hers. We used to date."

Carlos's expression darkened. "Well, James, as you can see, she is with me now. I'd appreciate it if you kept your distance."

James looked at you, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but Carlos's hand clamped down on your wrist under the table, his grip painful. "She's fine," he said coldly. "Aren't you, mi amor?"

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I'm fine."

James hesitated, clearly unconvinced, but nodded slowly. "Alright. If you need anything, you know where to find me." With that, he walked back to his table, casting one last worried glance over his shoulder.

Carlos leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You belong to me," he hissed, his voice filled with a chilling possessiveness. "Don't forget that."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of fear and tension. Carlos's grip on your arm never loosened, his eyes never leaving you for a second. When you finally returned to the apartment, he turned to you, his expression a twisted mix of anger and desperation.

"Do you see what you do to me?" he demanded, his voice shaking. "You make me crazy with love for you."

Tears streamed down your face as you backed away, but there was nowhere to go. Carlos advanced, his hands reaching for you. "I can't lose you. You're mine, and I'll never let you go."

The night deepened, the walls of the apartment closing in on you once more. Carlos's obsession had reached a new level, his love a dark, suffocating force that bound you to him. In the depths of your mind, the small voice that longed for freedom grew quieter, drowned out by the overwhelming fear of his wrath.

------

he following days echoed with the same oppressive routine, each moment overshadowed by Carlos's possessive grip. His affection warped into a suffocating obsession, a relentless force that left you gasping for air. Your attempts to maintain a facade of compliance only fed his delusion, entangling you further in his web of control.

espite the facade of normalcy Carlos maintained during your rare outings, his grip on reality was slipping. His possessiveness escalated into paranoia, his every move a calculated display of dominance. The once vibrant city outside the apartment's walls became a labyrinth of threats in his eyes, each passerby a potential rival for your affections.

The following days fell into a monotonous rhythm, each passing moment carrying the weight of Carlos's possessive hold. His affections, once seemingly tender, now felt like chains, binding you to a life you no longer recognized. Despite the facade of normalcy Carlos maintained, his actions dripped with manipulation and control, leaving you feeling trapped in a web of his making.

As you went about the daily routines dictated by Carlos, a sense of resignation settled over you, mingled with a creeping feeling of familiarity. You found yourself adapting to his demands, rationalizing his actions, and even seeking his approval in moments of weakness. It was as if Stockholm syndrome had crept its way into your psyche, blurring the lines between captor and captive.

One evening, as you sat at the dinner table, mechanically spooning food into your mouth, Carlos leaned in close, his eyes studying you with an unsettling intensity. "You're mine, mi amor," he murmured, his voice laced with possessiveness. "And I'll never let you go."

You forced a smile, the weight of his words like a leaden anchor in your chest. "Of course, Carlos," you replied, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue.

But in the quiet moments when Carlos's guard was down, doubts gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. Was this truly love, or had fear twisted your perception of reality beyond recognition?

--------------

One afternoon, as you sat by the window, staring out at the world beyond, Carlos approached, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "Mi amor, I have a surprise for you," he announced, his voice tinged with anticipation.

You turned to face him, curiosity mingled with trepidation. "What is it?"

He handed you a small box, a smile playing on his lips. "Open it and see."

With trembling hands, you lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace nestled within. It was beautiful, a sparkling reminder of the life you once knew. "It's lovely," you whispered, your fingers tracing the intricate design.

Carlos's smile widened, a sense of pride evident in his gaze. "I knew you'd like it," he said, his voice softening. "I'll put it on for you."

As he fastened the necklace around your neck, his touch gentle yet possessive, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of gratitude mingled with unease. It was as if his gestures of affection were a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty that surrounded you, tethering you to him in ways you couldn't fully comprehend.

And so, you continued to exist in a state of limbo, torn between the desire for freedom and the comfort of captivity. Each day brought new challenges, new moments of doubt and fear, yet amidst the turmoil, a small voice whispered of hope, a whisper that grew louder with each passing moment, urging you to break free from the chains that bound you and reclaim your identity once and for all.

As the days blurred into weeks and the weeks into months, the lines between captor and captive became increasingly blurred. Carlos's presence loomed over you like a shadow, his every word and action shaping your reality in ways you couldn't fully comprehend.

-------------

as you sat together in the dimly lit living room, Carlos reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "You're everything to me, mi amor," he said, his voice soft with sincerity.

You met his gaze, searching for any sign of the man you once knew beneath the layers of possessiveness and control. "I know, Carlos," you replied, a faint tremor betraying the uncertainty in your voice.

But even as you spoke the words, doubts gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. Was this truly love, or had fear and manipulation twisted your perception of reality beyond recognition?

In the quiet moments when Carlos's guard was down, you found yourself questioning everything, your feelings, your motives, your very identity. Was there still a part of you that longed for freedom, or had you become so deeply entwined in Carlos's world that escape was nothing more than a distant dream?

-------------

as you sat alone in the apartment, the weight of Carlos's control pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket, a spark of defiance flickered to life within you. It was small at first, barely more than a whisper in the depths of your soul, but it grew stronger with each passing moment, fueled by the knowledge that you deserved more than the life Carlos had chosen for you.

But despite the flicker of rebellion, another emotion simmered beneath the surface, a twisted sense of comfort and attachment that defied reason. a psychological bond that kept you tethered to Carlos despite the horrors of your captivity.

you found yourself drawn deeper into Carlos's web, your defiance tempered by a perverse sense of loyalty to your captor. And though the prospect of escape lingered on the fringes of your consciousness, it was overshadowed by the intoxicating allure of Carlos's twisted love.

"Mi amor," Carlos whispered one evening, drawing you into his arms, "I'll never let anyone take you away from me. You belong to me, now and forever."

You buried your face in his chest, a mixture of conflicting emotions swirling within you. "I know, Carlos," you murmured, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

And so, you surrendered yourself to the cycle of control and manipulation, the boundaries between right and wrong blurring into shades of gray. In the darkness of Carlos's embrace, you found a strange kind of solace—a fleeting respite from the turmoil that raged within you.

As the night deepened, you embraced Carlos with a fervor born of desperation, knowing that in his arms, you could forget, at least for a moment, the tangled web of emotions that bound you to him. And as the flames of passion engulfed you both, you surrendered to the darkness, knowing that in the depths of your captivity, there was a twisted kind of freedom that only Carlos could provide.

-------------

A week later, Carlos surprised you with an outing to the park. It was a rare moment of freedom, a brief respite from the suffocating confines of the apartment. As you stepped outside, the cool breeze brushed against your skin, a welcome relief from the stale air that had become all too familiar.

Carlos led you along the winding paths of the park, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Despite the tranquility of the surroundings, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. It was as if the weight of his presence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the chains that bound you to him.

Yet amidst the swirling currents of fear and uncertainty, there was a flicker of something else, a glimmer of hope that danced just out of reach. It was a small spark of defiance, fueled by the knowledge that even in the darkest of moments, there was still a chance for redemption.

As you walked together, the world around you seemed to fade into the background, the only reality that mattered the one you shared with Carlos. It was a fragile illusion, a fleeting moment of respite in the midst of chaos, but for a brief instant, it was enough.

But as the day wore on and the sun began to dip below the horizon, the shadows grew longer, casting an ominous pall over the park. You felt the weight of Carlos's gaze upon you, his eyes dark and unreadable

Under the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees, Carlos's demeanor seemed to soften, his usually stern expression replaced by a rare hint of vulnerability. "You know, mi amor," he began, his voice gentle, "I often think about the life we will have together. A life filled with love and happiness."

You glanced up at him, surprised by the sudden tenderness in his tone. "Do you, Carlos?" you asked cautiously, uncertain of where this conversation might lead.

He nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, of course. You mean everything to me. I'd do anything to make you happy."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mixture of longing and apprehension washing over you. Despite the darkness that had clouded your relationship, a part of you still yearned for the connection you had once shared with him, when you first met him.

As you continued to walk, the tension between you began to ease, replaced by a fragile sense of hope. Perhaps, amidst the chaos and turmoil, there was still a chance for redemption, a chance to rebuild what had been broken between you.

But even as the possibility of a brighter future danced on the horizon, a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminded you of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface. The road ahead would be fraught with challenges, and the path to true freedom would not be easy.

And yet, as you walked side by side with Carlos, a sense of determination stirred within you, a resolve to confront the demons of your past and forge a new path forward, one defined by courage and resilience.

For in the depths of your captivity, you had discovered a strength within yourself that you never knew existed, a strength that would carry you through the darkest of days and lead you towards the promise of a better tomorrow.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 fic

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novembermorgon · 6 months

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Op i desperately need to know about your bolton oc(s) for they are beginning to haunt my waking dreams 🙏 i humbly ask for your intel 🙏

FIRST OFF … thank you so much for the interest ive been really rotating them in my brain lately so it means a lot to hear you like them (ʃƪ˘ﻬ˘)

i originally made them for funsies last year for a fic i didnt end up writing but i've gotten back into the swing of it so when i figure out how to put a story together i'll put it out there . for now... > here's a proper doodle of their fits i put together .

their names are ysabel and cayn bolton - their parents are maisie manderly and alaric bolton ( x ) . cayn is ~20 and ysabel is a few years younger but don't ask me about specifics because i ...... <3 haven't figured the timeline out yet .

ysabel is a severe case of troubled youth as a result of being raised in a household that centers its identity around the concept of flaying people . their dad is kind of balls off the wall nutso and insists very early on that both his kids have to uphold their family history and identity which leads to both of them being exposed to excessive violence before they really should have been and it definitely gets to her the most . at the core she's kind of squishy and more delicate than you'd imagine from the horrendous dead stare she has > growing up she definitely struggled more than cayn to deal with growing up in the environment she did > she has frequent delusions of what is basically a reanimated skin of a man that follows her around and gets in the way when she's especially stressed out . physical representation of the terror of her father's ambition and actions etc

she's kind of quiet and weird and doesn't have many friends aside from her brother but she IS very polite and well-mannered as is expected of a noble lady . very influenced by having a manderly mother in that she leans a little more into expectations of women as framed by the faith of the seven . likes poetry and embroidery and whatever else she's been told to like and is determined not to step outside her box of expectation . eventually spirals into further delusion of the religious kind when she gets to king's landing and things start to devolve politically > the spiral and downfall of what being a proper lady in medieval society means . her first encounter with aemond targaryen is in the king's landing gardens where she thinks he's about to attack her so she bites a chunk out of his neck so do with that as you will

cayn on the other hand is by all accounts outwardly pretty Normal . he's charming and an open book and very easy to get along with if you can disregard the ever lingering Blue Eyed Stare . being the oldest son just like ysabel he has a very specific set of expectations put on him but in a very different way . should uphold a clear image of being like his dad and learns to fight and hunt and rule but it all ends up being very fake . you look him in the eye while you chat about northern alliances and how to make sure this and that lord is satisfied and hes smiling but there is nothing behind those damn eyes .

definitely does not help that ... he IS a homosexual <3 both of them are meant to be people who put up very firm appearances of being well-adjusted, matching expectations essentially perfectly - only to have those expectations torn down entirely when they're strained enough . going to sound like a fucking insane thing to say but cayn to me is very medieval patrick bateman - in the sense that he's obsessed with appearances and what others think of him, but it's all just a means of covering up the fact that he is 2 seconds away from snapping and killing someone or himself at all times . i have all the characteristics of a human being: flesh, blood, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. something horrible is happening inside of me and i don't know why. my nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. i feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip etc, if you will .

the plot here is a little lost on me because i havent written it all out yet and i cant keep information in my mind for longer than a second but it's essentially dance of the dragons but if i took all the events and scrambled them around and made it completely different . ´･ᴗ･` more book-focused than show-focused at least in terms of the characterization of people like aemond and alicent (i like when they're a little meaner and more crude . my bad ...)

before the war begins - the greens plot away, realizing viserys is not going to name aegon heir even as his health worsens and tensions become more apparent at court. more political action is taken here with the starks declaring for rhaenyra in any matters of succession much earlier - working counter to this is a little already-formed cluster of northern houses that kind of band together under the boltons with the help of some marriage ties and general disagreements with the starks (ie ysabel + cayn's dad is married to a manderly, cayn eventually gets betrothed to a karstark before the starks can snap them up a generation later as they do in canon). with the north kind of silently divided the greens reach out with the intent to form an alliance there with the promise that the boltons will be given the spot as wardens of the north when the war eventually ends knowing full well when viserys kicks the bucket things are going to spiral without question . they accept and head down south - which obviously makes for even more tensions considering they're still stark bannermen . everyone is a little bit or more than a little bit mad at each other and viserys dies and things spiral as usual .

ysabel marries aemond to secure that northern alliance , goes to storms end and promises daeron + lands and wealth to make up for the fact he can't marry one of borros daughters himself, lucerys dies etc and well ........... i need to iron out some wrinkles . <3

as for their relationships obviously as mentioned ysabel marries aemond and its Weird . she really likes him but in a weird almost obsessive way . watches him from afar before they even get introduced officially and sits awake at night and stares at him and i think part of it is because she doesn't know how to approach . wants to be affectionate and loving but also wants things to be on her own terms while also knowing that the circumstances (WAR) doesn't allow for that to the extent she wants so she's at a loss at what to do . which manifests in Being strange . with both these relationships there's a touch of strange hunter prey dynamics and here its definitely more laid back than with cayn and aegon . you watch from afar but never strike . you learn someone's patterns and habits and the threat of having that used against you is always present but te tension only ever builds and never comes to a peak .

because ysabel is very tall and slender and kind of gangly she struggles a lot with pregnancy and when they eventually do have a child it's a girl . which she's intensely conflicted about . you have a child put in your arms and theres a moment of complete joy that turns just as quickly into horror because she believes so firmly that a son would have been what makes her husband and her family happier . sort of anne boelyn esque . she ends up with health issues and a line of lost pregnancies after that before having a son who is incredibly weak and sickly and doesn't make it into adulthood . horrorshow in the capital here

cayn and aegon ........... scratches my chin. on account of being gay in westeros it's obviously very different . aegon is married and cayn is betrothed and still i think cayn meets him and it's a case of well i will die before i give up being able to be with you . they're kind of similar on the surface in that they bond over sort of skipping out on court duties and prefer to spend time out in king's landing . a lot of watching aegon give out his attention to others freely and getting nothing in return (because shockingly you have to initiate sometimes instead of staring at someone you like longingly and looking like a creep) . again that sense of not knowing how to approach just like ysabel . a slow buildup of shared glances and mutual want that you both know will never be okay to anyone but the two of you . cayn wants to hunt and kill him and tear him apart and make out sloppy with him because it's all he can do to show that affection . violence in place of love in a society that would never accept your happiness .

when that hurdle of Figuring out they're both a little homo for each other is crossed they're definitely more direct than ysabel and aemond . very heavy handed physical affection moreso than verbal or emotional signs. rip at each others flesh but never express all the things you'd do for each other . share desperate fumbling kisses in some back alley but don't begin to think about what it might be like to run off and never be seen again or how differently youd be able to see each other if one of you happened to be a woman . i <3 medieval homosexuality !

THAT'S ABOUT ALL. sorry this was a whole load of nothing but i loved getting to ramble about them . final notes are some design pointers

the little eyes on the necklace ysabel wears + the eye on the armour design i did for cayn is meant to be similar to 18th century lover's eye jewelry! : -) essentially a form of affection in literally carrying a lover's gaze with you . i think it's very bolton esque

cayn has a little gold ring to tie back to aegon . and the earring is meant to look like a drop of blood

the armour is his dad's . he dies like halfway through the war and i think it's very telling to have the deeply imperfect son don his dad's fit after he dies . bad fathers who haunt their children etc

he does go off to fight in the war as well hence the scars and the hair . loses parts of his arm as well as parts of his face (lip + his eye is injured so he doesn't see very well) . unfortunately the rat tail had to go but it pains me as well

the white gown instead of black for mourning i think was mostly just for aesthetics (tough to fit with the dark background) but also has SOME intent behind it . atp ysabel ends up barely existing as a person properly as per what war does to someone especially when they're already struggling - it's meant to be a nightgown because she rarely gets dressed beyond that . white was also historically a mourning colour in specific countries in specific eras of history and i do really like that . gives sort of sad miserable ghost in the castle vibes idk

#aghh much longer than i meant it to be but this is the only place i have anything summarized for them so i guess its ok #thank u again for the interest <3 #oc tag #txt #asks #asoiaf #asoiaf oc #cayn tag #ysabel tag #oc art

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ameribell · 4 months

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Could we please get general relationship headcanons for Erza, Juvia, and Mirajane? Thank you!

Dating Headcanons

Erza x reader

Juvia x reader

Mirajane x reader

Notes: Of course! Gotta give my girlies some love too obviously 💙Summary: As the title implies, dating headcanons

Warnings: Mental health, minor arguments, but mainly fluff

Erza

She definitely gets flustered easily, but she’s really good at playing it off

She’s not good at showing her love romantically, but she learns to overtime

Babe is touched starved, and adores when you’re comfortable enough to lay on her

Now, her biggest form of love is quality time

As long as you’re around she feels content, just don’t get hurt or into too much trouble

If you go on quests with her you bet her guard is up, even if you’re stronger than her

If you stay home, she’ll be so eager to get back that the quest will be finished so fast, you won’t even have time to miss her

Example here

There can be ups and downs in any relationship, and with her they tend to be very rare

When you guys do argue it’s always over health, mental and physical, if you both

Which means it’s rather easy to resolve, just promise to work together on it

Speaking of mental health, she’s a firm believer in cuddling for serotonin 🥱

She’s a major cuddle bug so prepare lmao

Juvia

Obsessed with you, I’m talking, everyone shes talked to is tiiiired of hearing about you 💙

She loves any form of love, if it’s coming from you, but any words of affirmation and she’ll combust

Any gifts you give her you know she’ll treasure, and best believe she’ll keep them forever

She’s the type to have every bit of your future planned out.

Wedding? Check.

Kids?? Check.

Where you’ll be buried??? Double check.

Example here

She’ll memorize everything about you, but if you do the same she’ll curl up and cry

Babes is such a sweetheart, she adores learning things you enjoy (cooking styles, hobbies, even the lives of celebrities you’re into) but if you teach her she’ll love it more

Now, while most of your relationship is good, there are occasional arguments

Typically over how she represses herself so you can shine…

To help her out of that you must make sure she knows you’ll adore her no matter what she hides about herself

She’s the first to say ‘I love you’ and if you don’t reciprocate she’ll be closed off for sometime, watching from a distance

Mirajane

She’ll tease the ever living shit out of you

If you fluster easily, then it’s a major win for her

If you don’t, she’ll make you, eventually…

Her love language is quality time and words of affirmation

She loves physical touch, but on occasion it can be overwhelming, especially because that’s all people tend to want from her

On the other hand, she craves it from you, if you don’t let her know how much you love her and her body she’ll get insecure (yk, the validation is a different thing from those you love)

Example here

Arguments, they happen, but she’s a big person of communication and listening, so as long as you talk things through and hear one another out, you’ll be a-okay! 😊 Right…?

Now, she loves taking pics with you

She’s in the middle of a photo shoot? Jump in!

You know she’ll talk about you two to anyone she can in the form of advice

“My partner just…they don’t understand the pressure I’m under…” “Have you tried to sit and talk with them?” “Yes, but they just won’t listen.” “Have you tried listening to their problems too? Conversation isn’t a one way street you know!”

She’s just very proud of being with you

Request rules

Ways to follow and new content

#amber-bella #fanfic #fairy tail x reader #fairy tail #erza scarlet #erza x reader #juvia lockser #Juvia x reader #mirajane strauss #mirajane x reader #x reader #fanfic request #headcanon

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yandere-paramour · 8 months

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Meet Atalanta

"Y/n, I have had a very long day, and I just want to have a hot bath and rest. Will you please join me?"

Atalanta Montclair is a formidable woman. She gets up every morning at the break of day, practices martial arts, and proceeds to work towards inheriting her Mother’s company, the thing she has worked toward her entire life. She works hard, cutting down anything or anyone in her way. Control of the company she has sacrificed her life for is the only thing she truly wants… until she sees her Darling.

As soon as she sees Darling, Atalanta makes plans to kidnap her. Darling wakes up from a gentle sleeping medication in silky pajamas, on soft sheets in a lush bed, Atalanta sipping tea next to her. At first, Darling is kept inside the penthouse with cameras, monitors, and guards keeping a close watch on her, but the more Darling settles and starts to behave, the more the rules relax, allowing Darling on short trips outside as long as she has at least four guards following her and listens to instructions. Atalanta wants a lover, not a prisoner. However, if disobedient, Darling will quickly lose privileges like television and (supervised) internet access, and she will be fairly punished. The absolute worst offense is to try and run away; Darling will not succeed, and Atalanta will be forced to take her over her knee and punish her with her own hand. She would never allow anyone but herself to discipline her precious Darling. Only she is worthy to touch and correct their behavior.

Despite her strict and firm exterior, Atalanta is soft to the people she loves. She was raised overflowing with love and care from her parents (another Yandere couple), and she loves them dearly and desperately craves their praise and approval. She wants the overwhelming, obsessive, all-encompassing love that she grew up watching her parents exhibit. She also truly loves her Darling and wants to use all the perks she gains from working hard and being born rich to spoil them. She enjoys hearing Darling talk about her interests and will always listen like it is the most important thing in the universe. Atalanta can even be soft and playful, like tickling her Darling lightheartedly, but only if Darling is behaving well.

Deep down, under a lifetime of emotional barriers, Atalanta is a sweet person who wants to love and be loved in return. She wants to be the kind of couple where you come and have lunch with her at work, you hug and kiss her when she comes home, and she washes your hair as you bathe together each night. She sees a future with her Darling, and she’s willing to wait for as long as it might take for you to soften to her, no matter how torturous that might be. Atalanta is wealthy and patient, and she has no intention of losing the person she loves most. There is nothing more she wants than to see y/n safe, happy, and well-cared for, sleeping peacefully in her arms every night.

"Careful, Darling girl. I will not tolerate disrespect. Not even from you."

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bunisher · 4 months

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just some autistic frank things and headcanons:

• one of his special interests is weapons, when he was a teen he developed one involving medieval torture. he’s known all the pressure points of where to hit someone in order to incapacitate them for years.

• he reads and writes more than he speaks. he often felt like an outsider growing up. he needs rules to function and many social situations are too complex. he likes when things are simple.

• goes nonverbal when he’s upset and starts stimming by tapping his fingers, walking around.

• general stims include his index finger tapping against his thumb, chewing the inside of his cheek, licking his lips, and rubbing the back of his head if it’s been shaved. he likes playing with his longer hair too but hardly anyone is around to see it.

• he stims every time he listens to music. he doesn’t listen to music very often. it’s distracting for him.

• he likes his long hair but it’s too noisy for him. he needs it out of his eyes and face to be able to focus.

• autistic rage is how he survives.

• safe foods include black coffee and breakfast foods. he likes trying new foods and recipes because he likes exploring different types of textures and flavors. he cooks for people to show that he cares because he’s not great with words.

• stims by cleaning his guns. he used to play with maria’s hair a lot. now he rubs the scar on the back of his head.

• extremely high pain tolerance from years of dissociating from his body. it was difficult when he was growing up. his mom would often find him injured and not saying anything or acting like there was something wrong. he once broke his finger and didn’t realize it until later when someone pointed it out.

• has to have everything extremely organized. as a child he lined things up and would get upset if people touched his stuff. he wasn’t good at playing with others.

• technology is overwhelming for him, he likes old fashioned things with physical parts.

• needs more information to assess a situation. whether that be for a mark or in personal situations. he would always ask “the wrong questions” and offer solutions instead of just listening. it was one of his main issues with maria. she thought he didn’t care about her feelings for years when he was trying to help.

• he did not realize maria was flirting with him at first. she was his first real relationship because all other people gave up when they assumed he wasn’t interested. he doesn’t know how to flirt.

• he’s obsessive. when it comes to his mission, nothing else matters. when he first got with maria, nothing else mattered. he needed to know everything about her.

• his autistic sense of justice is what drives him. he believes what he is doing is right and is firm in his beliefs. this also goes hand in hand with his black and white thinking.

• even before war, he was awkward in social situations. he’s always been quiet. he doesn’t like big settings of people, it’s too loud with too much going on. he prefers one on one interactions. it’s easier to focus when it’s just one person.

• he’s been told he struggles with empathy and has no emotions, but he feels so deeply despite not expressing it. he doesn’t understand how people don’t see it but it’s not something he can really explain. it’s always been like that.

• he was nonverbal for years as a child, which is why he was so used to the comments that were made at the construction site (nmcu specific) and he couldn’t understand why they gave a shit.

• in school, he was bullied, but he never really told his parents about it. he was always kinda different. always felt like he was faking the whole “being a human” thing, so in some ways what he does now is easier. he doesn’t have to pretend and put energy into things he’s bad at.

• lisa was kinda like him and it made him nervous. she was blunt and accused of being cold when he knew what she meant. maria had to explain why it was an issue, but all he could think about was the factual statements and how it’s good to pick things apart.

• he always has a plan, a backup plan, and a backup backup plan. it’s part of why he hates a lot of heroes that just go in with no plan. why don’t they have a plan? he’s gone on many tangents before. it’s one of the main reasons why he doesn’t do team ups. that, and other people are too unpredictable. he still doesn’t play well with others.

• when he was young, he really believed in god because god and catholicism has rules that you stick to. he never understood why god and the angels were allowed to kill people but he wasn’t. he went into seminary because he had a special interest in god. he can debate a lot but religious people rarely enjoy it. he’s now a lapsed catholic, mostly because of that.

• nowadays to him, heaven is just a fancy prison and free will is what’s important. he doesn’t like the idea of being a pawn. it’s why he told heaven to go fuck itself. if he has to sacrifice his beliefs then what does that say about him?

• part of why he went into the marines was because he dad always told him he needed to respect authority. he was pushed into it, told that maybe it would do him some good since he was constantly picking fights and not understanding why people behaved the way that they did.

• he likes dogs because dogs like routine. they’re always affectionate. he can also talk to them and they don’t judge or expect him to say the right words. they just like it when he talks.

• his punisher shirts are always a blend of cotton and polyester overtop kevlar. he has a stencil he carries in his bag. the skull is like the jacket he had in high school. it makes him feel comfortable and secure.

• he never wears cologne and doesn’t like things with a lot of scent.

• he was never too good at hygiene, even as a child. now he has an excuse, but really it’s just a lot of effort and he’s going to get dirty again so why does it matter?

#might add more later #really obsessed with autistic frank #probably because i’m autistic #frank castle #the punisher #headcanons #autistic frank castle #comics inspired #nmcu inspired #bun.txt

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fadedsweater · 2 months

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Fan Work Friday Funday

Rules: If you’re tagged, MAKE A NEW POST to showcase ONE fanartist and/or fanfic for any fandom you recommend (with links).Then tag someone to give their recs next! Don’t forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in, and include these rules! :) If you have more than one person to highlight, consider spreading it out!

Bonus: Choose works by people you aren’t super tight with, or choose older works that maybe haven’t gotten some love in a while. :)

Thank you @dreadfutures, @rosella-writes and @broodwolf221 for tagging me in this many Fridays ago! Blue specifically tagged me to rec fanworks about Thedas at large or about Solas specifically, so I am of course going to go with the latter. Today I'm gonna recommend Keturagh, who writes some of the hottest (and most interesting from a character perspective, imo) kinky dom!Solas fic I have ever read. They also write gorgeous, lyrical, poetic prose and have *such* a firm grasp of Solas's character. This meta essay about Solas, for example, has lived rent-free in my brain since the first time I read it.

WRITER: Keturagh | @gangrelslut

Fic: The Fire is Burning

Solas could not unpiece his thoughts. He wanted to dream, for she was too pressing, too soft and real and good, and she kept bringing him back to this camp in the hills. Help, he thought, help. This was no spirit’s landscape. How had he forgotten about this boundary between waking and dreams, this linearity of sensation? It went: she touched him. He felt. She loved him. He loved.

I am obsessed with how well Solas's POV is handled in this fic. Yes, it's smut, yes it's kinky, and yes it's very hot -- but Solas also sounds so ancient and esoteric and it's a fascinating look into his head. The angst is also absolutely positively delicious.

Fic: mornings

There’s an urgency to how he holds her in the night: arms like twisted sheets, his chest pressed against her back and sticky with his sweat, his mouth on her shoulder — his head moves sometimes in the night, his dreams troubled, and she feels his lips gently brushing her skin.

This is a sweet little fluff fic, and it's also the first fic by Keturagh I read. It just says so much about Pangara and Solas's relationship in so few words and endeared me to them immediately.

Fic: False Fruit

Wrenched asunder, the living soul left form behind, then became a shining blade, and the blade fell up into the sky. This is how it was: no longer were there hours nor days nor nights nor seasons, but only tidal shifts. This is how it was: no longer were there distinctions. Above, the river of blades. Below, the blades were stars and the river was pulled. Sometimes the river jumped her banks; that is how it was. Then from that Void, a voice. Dear friend. I miss you.

This one is longfic in progress that I'm still in the process of reading, but I cannot recommend it enough. It plays with form in a way that's so delightful and refreshing, and the premise -- a time-travel back to Elvhenan fix-it fic with a twist -- is so cool and unique. The writing, of course, is absolutely gorgeous.

I tag forward (and of course no pressure to join in 💛 - and apologies if you've been tagged before, it's hard to keep track) @bdafic | @queenaeducan | @mel-0n-earth | @thebookworm0001

#fanwork friday #fan work friday #technically sunday but whatever #fic rec #solas fic #solavellan fic #dragon age fic #keturagh #seriously go read their fic #long post #for some reason I'm unable to tag the author's tumblr but #go check out their meta and their fic regardless

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reddorkredemption · 4 months

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My Blessed Son—Chapter 21

|| AO3 || Chapter List / Story Info ||

Summary:

For years, Jack Marston dreamed of killing Edgar Ross, the man who had taken everything from him, who had ruined his life. His obsession with revenge had given him a reason to keep going. But now, after it was done, he was left lost, depressed and without purpose. He was left to navigate life alone with the unforgiving eyes of the law slowly narrowing in on him. Though he soon comes to realize that perhaps he isn’t quite as alone as he thought he would be. A continuation from the end of Red Dead Redemption 1.

Word count: ~7k

Chapter under the cut <3

A knock echoed throughout the house, startling Jack where he sat on the sofa in the living room.

From her seat beside him, Lilly let out a heavy breath. “There he is.” She stood up and smoothed out her skirt before turning to look at him. “You ready?”

Not really. “I guess.”

She smiled at him and gave him a small nod. He stayed seated as she walked around the back of the couch to answer the door. As she passed behind him, she ran a hand gently across his back, making him shiver. He looked over his shoulder and watched her disappear into the hallway that led to the door.

The door creaked open, and Jack anxiously bounced his leg as he listened to Lilly greet her brother.

“Hey, kid,” he said, his shoes clacking against the floor as he entered the house. “Sleep okay?”

The door shut, and she responded, almost too quietly for Jack to hear, “No.”

Tommy hummed. “I wish I was surprised.”

The clicking of dress shoes continued down the hallway, accompanied by Lilly’s softer, familiar footsteps, and the two soon emerged into the living room. Tommy stopped when he met Jack’s eyes and put his hands on his hips. Despite the early hour and informal setting, he was dressed just like he was the day before— in a fresh suit and tie with his hair perfectly in place. It made Jack question whether he was even human.

“Marston,” he greeted.

Jack shifted in his seat and replied with an awkward, “Hi.”

“Hi indeed.”

“C’mon,” Lilly interrupted, brushing past him to return to her place beside Jack. “Let’s get this over with.” She sat down and waved at the chair across from the sofa, motioning for Tommy to sit there.

He complied and made his way to the chair, but before sitting down, he stopped and turned to face them. “Alright, listen. I gotta make something very clear before we get into anything.” His voice slow and firm, he explained, “This is not an official thing. I’m not licensed in this state; I’m not your lawyer; and if they do end up throwing you in jail and trying you in court, there’s nothing I can do to help you. I’m just here to try to stop it from getting to that point.”

Jack slouched. That didn't sound too promising.

“But,” he continued, holding up his palms, “lucky for you, that also means that I don’t have to follow any of the rules that I normally would with an actual client. Anything goes.” He put his hands on his hips and paused to let the information soak in. “So are we all understood?”

Jack and Lilly shared a glance and then nodded.

“Okay, good.” He clapped his hands together, turned around, and plopped down in the chair across from them with a heavy sigh. Leaning back, he crossed his legs and gave Jack a pointed look. “So… what’d ya do, kid?”

The second the question was uttered, Jack tensed, and his heart began to beat harder. His immediate urge was to insist that he hadn’t done anything, but at this point, that wasn’t an option. He had agreed to tell Tommy about the situation so that he might be able to help, but now that it was time to do it, his nerves were getting the better of him.

“C’mon. Just tell me. I promise I’ve heard worse.” Tommy’s voice gained an edge of impatience. “Seriously. You could’ve sucked the devil’s cock for all I give a shit; nothing surprises me anymore.”

Jack grimaced. Well, that definitely wasn’t it….

He swallowed hard and squirmed in his seat, his eyes darting around the room. As hard as he tried to find his voice, the words didn’t want to come out. It was like his body physically wouldn’t let him admit what he’d done to Ross. Doing so felt too risky, too dangerous, and frankly stupid. He would be putting his life in the hands of a man who didn’t even like him.

From beside him, Lilly placed her hand on his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. When he turned to look at her, she gave him a reassuring nod.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Go ahead.”

The calmness of her voice quelled some of his anxiety. If she didn’t seem worried, then maybe things were okay. After all, she did know Tommy better than he did. Maybe he had no reason to be afraid. He certainly hoped so.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, he looked back at Tommy and said, “I— I shot a guy. One of them government agents— or a former government agent. Edgar Ross.”

Tommy nodded and sucked on his teeth. “Yeah, I got that part. I need you to tell me exactly how it happened. How’d you go about shooting him? Where’d it happen? When?” He threw his hands up. “I need details.”

Jack frowned at his impatience, and Lilly interjected to defend him, “He’ll get to it, Tom. Give him a second.”

“Alright, alright.”

After a grateful glance at her, Jack looked down at the floor for a moment to gather his thoughts. Once he was confident in what he wanted to say, he began, “I went to find him in Blackwater around the middle of August. Right after I buried my ma.” He lowered his head, the memory of his mother causing a shooting pain in his chest. When he raised it again, he thought he saw a glint of sympathy in Tommy’s eyes, but he couldn’t be sure— it was gone in an instant.

Clearing his throat, he continued, “I asked one of them agents where to find him, and—”

“Well, that’s fucking stupid…” Tommy muttered to himself.

Jack scowled.

Lilly opened her mouth and leaned forward to scold him again, but before she could, he smirked and put a hand up in apology. “Pardon me.” He nodded at Jack. “Carry on. I’m done.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned back on the sofa, shooting Jack an apologetic look.

Biting back his annoyance, he kept going, “They told me where he lived— near the lake in New Austin— but he wasn’t there. His wife told me he was on a hunting trip with his brother on the Mexican border. I went and found his brother down there pretty easy, and he pointed me down the river where Ross was.”

He paused and swallowed, bracing himself for the final leg of his story. “I went down there and confronted him. We ended up in a duel, I shot him a few times, and he fell in the river and died.” He shrugged. “Then I just went home.”

Tommy nodded along. “Okay. Where’s the gun you used now? Do you still have it?”

Jack shook his head. “I tossed it in the lake in Blackwater a while ago.”

“Alright… good.” He chewed on his lip for a second, deep in thought. “Did you tell any of these people you talked to your name?”

“No. No one ever asked. Not that I’d have told ‘em anyway.”

“Yet you’re worried the BOI knows it was you?” he asked, raising a brow. “Why’s that?”

A hint of embarrassment crept across his cheeks. “That agent I talked to recognized me later on and found out who I am.” He chose to leave out the fact that he’d gotten recognized because he’d shot another man in a duel in Blackwater. He didn’t want to hear whatever snide comment would be made about that. “Now they’ve been following me around ever since. The guy that’s been heading the whole investigation— Archer Fordham— even came up to me on the street one day and asked what I did to him.”

Alarm filled the man’s face, and he sat up straighter. “And what’d you say to him?”

“I told him to leave me alone. That I didn’t do nothing.”

He relaxed and sighed out a laugh. “Well, at least you managed to make one good decision there.”

Jack pursed his lips, unamused.

Tommy uncrossed his legs and shifted in his seat, settling into a new position. “So, what was it that made you wanna go and kill this guy?”

Without a hitch, Jack snapped, “He was a piece of shit.”

“Of course he was.” Tommy chuckled. “He worked for the government. That’s kind of a requirement.”

Well, at least they could agree on something. The remark caused a slight smirk to play at the corner of Jack’s lips, but he did his best to suppress it. He didn’t want to give Tommy the satisfaction.

Luckily, it wasn’t too hard to keep that smirk back once he began to seriously ponder the question of why he’d killed Ross. Thinking about it too hard always brought on intense anger, and he could already feel his face flushing as all of the memories came rushing to the forefront of his mind.

“He ruined my life,” he said, his voice eerily quiet and drenched in bitterness. “My whole family’s life.”

Tommy studied him, his face setting into a more serious expression to match Jack’s change in demeanor. “How so? What’d he do?”

Jack closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to calm himself, but it caught in his throat. He didn’t know where to start. He could write a book about all the things Ross had done to him and his family, and that still wouldn’t be enough to fully encompass everything that happened. Obviously, killing his father was the worst of Ross’s misdeeds, but it was far from his only transgression.

He’d had Jack and his mother abducted from their home and held in a glorified prison for months while his father was used as a pawn. Then, after all was said and done, he and the rest of the bureau took full credit for everything Jack’s father had done. They slandered the Marston name in the papers too, something that he was still feeling the effects of years later.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he grew, and he clenched his fists as he once again struggled to form words. Meanwhile, Tommy tapped his foot against the floor, waiting for an answer.

After several seconds went by without Jack providing one, Lilly cut in to answer for him: “Ross killed his father— well, a bunch of government assholes killed him actually. But it was on that guy’s orders.” She looked at Jack for approval. “If I remember correctly.”

He gave a nod and mumbled, “That’s right.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed, and his eyes flitted back and forth between them. “Why?”

“He was in a gang,” Lilly said.

“Was,” Jack emphasized. He didn’t want anything misunderstood. “A long time ago. Years before they killed him. He’d changed, bought this place, and quit livin’ wrong. He wasn’t a bad man. He was just a rancher when they killed him.”

Tommy hummed and shrugged a single shoulder. “Yeah, well, the law’s not exactly known for its forgiving nature. I know it doesn’t seem fair, but I’m not sure what you were expecting.”

“I know that. I’m not finished though.” He hung his head. “All that ain’t even the worst of it.”

“Okay. What is the worst of it then?”

Jack’s lip shook, and he bit down hard on it, lowering his head further. Lilly scooted closer to him, draped an arm around his shoulders, and gave him a comforting squeeze.

When he looked up at her, she softly asked, “You want me to tell him everything?”

Jack shook his head. “I will.”

She nodded and moved to pull away from him, but he leaned into her, not wanting to lose the warmth of her touch. Recognizing his need, she settled back against him and kept her arm around his shoulders.

Finally, he looked back at Tommy, whose lips were now curled in a subtle expression of displeasure as he watched them. Jack’s cheeks heated up, and he wondered if he should pull away from Lilly. He decided against it when Tommy simply rolled his eyes and wiped the expression from his face without saying a word.

“Well?” he said, tapping his foot. “I’m listening.”

Jack took a deep breath, and with a final glance at Lilly to give him courage, he began to recite what happened, beginning in 1911.

He detailed how the government had shown up on the ranch one day and taken his father away. He had gone peacefully, telling Jack and Uncle to look after the ranch while he was gone. He didn’t have much choice. In hindsight, Jack suspected he’d known for a while that day was coming.

Before they’d had the chance to process what happened, the government returned for Jack and his mother. They covered their heads, shoved them into an automobile, and carted them off to some makeshift prison, all while refusing to tell them anything.

He told of all the sleepless nights he and his mother spent locked away, wondering when or if they’d be able to go home. Wondering where his father was and whether or not he was even alive. This went on for ages until one day, they suddenly took them out of their prison and dumped them back off at the ranch. Unfortunately, the place was empty— save for a drunken Uncle passed out on the porch— so their fear for his father’s safety only grew.

Days later, their worries were extinguished when his father returned, and they continued on with life as normally as they could. For the first time in ages, they were happy. They were hopeful. Then, all hell broke loose.

Jack’s voice broke as he came to the final part of the story, and Lilly held onto him tighter. He barely managed to spit out the memory of what happened on the day his father died. At times, Lilly had to cut in to offer additional information that he’d told her in the past, which he was beyond grateful for.

Throughout the story, Tommy sat and listened quietly, a flat, unreadable expression remaining on his face the entire time. When it was over, he stayed quiet for several seconds before shaking his head and letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. That’s… ridiculous.”

“I know,” Jack replied, a slight shake in his voice. “It was. It—”

“No, no. I mean that’s ridiculous,” he interrupted. “As in, there’s no way that’s what happened.”

Jack froze and blinked at him. Narrowing his eyes, he asked in a low voice, “You don’t believe me?”

“No. Frankly, I don’t.”

Jack clenched his fists, and Lilly’s grip on his shoulder tightened. “Why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” Tommy repeated, unfazed by his anger. “Like I said.”

Digging his nails into his palms until his hands shook, Jack huffed. He’d expected to receive some kind of judgment or attitude from the man, but not being believed? How could he not believe him? Who could make this up? Jack wished he could. He wished all of it had never happened.

Lilly squeezed him to get his attention and leaned in closer to him. “I believe you,” she murmured.

Tommy laughed at her. “Of course you do. He could probably convince you the sky is red.”

She shot him a scowl. “Oh, shut up! I don’t see what’s so ridiculous about it. You of all people ought to know the government’s not above doin’ shit like that.”

“I’m not sayin’ that they don’t do a lot of underhanded shit, but this? This is on a whole ‘nother level.” He leaned forward. “They can’t just kidnap and hold an innocent woman and child hostage. They’re not legally allowed to. You have to have done something to justify being locked up.”

“Well, they did it,” Jack snapped, gripping the arm of the sofa. “Whether you wanna believe it or not, they did.”

Tommy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If word of them doing something like that ever got out, heads would roll. And they know that. As bad as they are, I can’t see them taking that kind of risk. It would be idiotic.”

That statement piqued Jack’s curiosity, overshadowing some of his anger. “What do you mean ‘heads would roll’?” he asked. “What would happen to them?”

“Well,” Tommy drawled, glancing up at the ceiling, “anyone who was involved— or who even had any knowledge of it— likely wouldn’t have a job anymore. And worst case, they could get in some serious legal trouble themselves.”

Jack gaped at him. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that those government agents could see any consequences for what they’d done to his family. He always thought they were above the law— no, they weren’t above it. They were the law. They could do whatever they wanted. Or at least, they acted like they could. The thought of them paying for all the pain they’d caused brought him ineffable delight.

Making eye contact with Tommy, he asked in a quiet voice, “Really?”

“Maybe. It depends.” Tommy studied him for a moment then narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“What if word did get out?” he thought aloud. Then, an even better idea came to him, and he sat up straight. “Or what if Fordham thought it could get out? Maybe he wouldn’t be too keen on harassin’ me about Ross if he knew I could lose him his job. Lose him everything.”

Jack felt like he’d struck gold, but Tommy didn’t seem impressed.

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “If you wanted to go after him, he could easily just deny any wrongdoing. Then, it’d be your word against the Bureau of Investigation’s. And who do you think is gonna be believed?” He put his palms up in a shrug. “Unless you can definitively prove it—”

“I can,” Jack interrupted, a surge of energy coursing through him.

Tommy raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “How?”

“I have something.” He sprang to his feet, startling Lilly as he abruptly pulled out of her embrace. “Hold on.”

He ran straight to his bedroom, cringing as the door slammed open and smacked against the furniture behind it. Once inside, he went straight to his desk and rummaged around until he found what he was after: his father’s old journal. Surely, that would be enough proof.

Dashing back to the living room, he handed the journal to Tommy, who eyed it skeptically before taking it. As he opened it and began to thumb through the pages, Jack sat back down by Lilly.

“That’s the journal my pa kept while it was happening,” he explained, out of breath. “Most of what I said— and even more— is in there.”

Tommy hummed as he continued to flip through and scan a few random pages. Jack shook his leg, watching him intently to gauge his reaction, but frustratingly, his expression remained blank. He looked through the journal for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes before finally lowering it.

Shaking his head, he let out a sardonic chuckle. “Yeah, you’re gonna need something a little more concrete than Daddy’s diary.” He snapped the journal shut and tossed it onto the coffee table. “You need some kind of real proof or at the least, someone who can corroborate your little stories.”

“I have plenty of people who can do that,” Jack blurted out. “And I can get more proof.”

“Right, okay…” Tommy replied with a dismissive wave. “You go get that proof, then maybe we’ll talk.”

Jack frowned, irritated at not being taken seriously. He knew that his story was true, and he knew there was proof that it was. He admittedly didn’t know where that proof was, but given some time, he was sure he could find something.

“In the meantime,” Tommy continued, “I wanna focus on making sure they haven’t got any strong case against you.”

Lilly asked, “How are you gonna do that?”

“I don’t know yet,” he said, sitting up straighter and slapping his hands down on the arms of his chair. “I need to go think about it a bit. Maybe see if I can’t gather a little more information.” Groaning, he stood up, brushed himself off, and began smoothing out the wrinkles left in his suit. “I think we’re about done here.”

Lilly rose to her feet after him. “Are you gonna be staying here at the ranch?”

Still fiddling with his clothing, he wrinkled his nose and glanced around the room. “No. I’ll stick with the hotel, thanks….”

Thank God, Jack thought, slumping his shoulders in relief. He’d go insane within a day if Tommy stayed at the ranch with them.

Tommy stretched and eyed the journal still sitting on the coffee table. “Y’know what? I’m gonna take this with me.” He leaned over and picked it up, running his thumb along the pages again. “I wanna read through it— just in case there’s something useful in it.”

“What?” Jack stammered. “But it’s mine. It’s my pa’s. I—”

Tommy rolled his eyes and put up a pacifying hand. “Oh, calm down, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of it. You’ll get it back as soon as I’m done.”

Jack fidgeted. He didn’t like that. That journal was one of the few things he had left of his father. It was written in his voice. Reading it was the only way Jack could still kind of hear him. Even though it was painful to read, it’d kill him to lose it.

“Don’t worry,” Lilly said. “You will get it back.”

Jack sighed, his resolve cracking under her gaze. “Fine,” he grumbled. He better get it back. He’d raise hell if he didn’t.

Tommy flashed a satisfied smile. “While I’m gone, if anyone else comes knocking on your door or approaches you on the street, don’t talk to them,” he said. “You can tell ‘em, ‘no comment’ or ‘I don’t wanna talk right now’ or ‘fuck off, buddy’— whichever tickles your fancy at the time. Just don’t say any more than that.”

“I won’t.” That wouldn’t be too hard; it was what he’d already been doing.

“Great.” He tucked the journal under his arm, put his hands in his pockets, and looked between Jack and Lilly. “Anything else before I go?”

“How bad do you think it is?” Jack asked. “Do I have a chance? Or am I just…” He trailed off, not wanting to say the alternative aloud.

Tommy sighed and glanced at the ceiling. “Well, it’s a good sign that you haven’t been locked up yet, despite their suspicions. If they truly knew for a fact you did it, you wouldn’t be sittin’ here right now. Apart from that, I’m not sure yet. We’ll have to see.”

Jack slouched. We’ll see. He hated that answer. He hated the way it left so much up in the air. He wanted to be told for certain that everything was going to be fine— anything to soothe the anxiety that constantly gnawed at his chest.

“I’ll stop by again when I have something to report. In the meantime, try not to worry too much.” He winked. “You’re in capable hands.”

Jack frowned at the statement, finding it more arrogant than reassuring. He had no reason to believe it, and truthfully, still no real reason to trust Tommy. He knew everything now. It would be so easy for him to go turn Jack in, and it’d save him a lot of trouble.

Despite his concerns, he nodded in agreement anyway.

With that, Tommy said his goodbyes, and Lilly walked him to the front door. Once he was gone, she returned to the living room, stood by the sofa, and let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Well, we survived,” she joked.

“For now.”

Her face fell, and she sat down beside him, turning towards him and touching her knee to his. “What do you mean by that?”

Jack fidgeted and drew his brows together. “How do I know he ain’t gonna take everything I just told him and go straight to the law with it?”

Lilly shook her head, breathing out a laugh like that was the silliest thing she’d ever heard. “You don’t need to worry about that. He won’t tell anyone. He’s good for keeping secrets— if nothing else.” When his expression didn’t change, she added, “He never told anyone back home where I’ve been even though I know he really wanted to. Sure, he bitched about it the entire time, but he didn’t rat on me. It’s not who he is.”

“Not when it comes to you, maybe,” he countered. “But he ain’t got no loyalty to me.”

Lilly sighed and pursed her lips. “Listen,” she said, her voice coming out much softer. “I promise it’ll be fine. If you can’t trust him, trust me.” She put a hand over her heart and held his gaze intently.

Jack looked back at her with the same intensity, his heart skipping a beat as he got lost in her eyes. He did trust her. She was probably the only person that he trusted completely; he didn’t even fully trust himself most days. He wouldn’t have told Tommy a thing in the first place if she hadn’t assured him it was okay.

Swallowing, he broke eye contact with her and averted his gaze to the floor. “Okay,” he murmured. “I do.”

That was the truth, but he still couldn’t help but worry. It was who he was. No matter what anyone said, he knew he’d likely be consumed with worry for every waking moment until the Ross situation was resolved— assuming it ever would be. Hell, he’d probably find a way to stay worried afterwards too.

“Y’know, I think you were onto something earlier,” Lilly said, pulling him from his thoughts. “When you mentioned trying to use what that guy, Fordham, did to you against him. I think it’s an idea worth pursuing.”

“Your brother didn’t,” Jack mumbled, still staring at the floor.

She chuckled. “Yeah, well, he’s him. He only thinks ideas are good when they come from him. I wouldn’t let that discourage you.”

He rubbed his forehead. “He doesn’t even believe what I said happened.”

Lilly reached out and rested her palm on his hand, making him look at her. “Prove him wrong then,” she said softly. “Go get whatever proof you need to show him that it did happen.” She sat up straighter. “I can look after things on the ranch while you’re busy doin’ that.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” She gave him a sheepish smile and nudged him with her elbow. “I could use the ranching practice anyway, no?”

That got a little laugh out of him. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“Hey!” She snorted and playfully slapped him on the knee. “You weren’t supposed to agree with me.”

“I— I wasn’t?”

“No.” She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. “You’re supposed to say, ‘Oh, my dear, sweet, Lilly, that ain’t true. Yer the best dang rancher this town ever did see,’” she poorly mimicked his accent.

Jack chuckled nervously, feeling his cheeks heat up. He assumed she was joking, but he’d been wrong about that before, so to play it safe, he replied, “Oh, um, sorry?”

Her expression softened, and she affectionately studied his face for a moment, making him feel fuzzy inside. “Don’t be,�� she said, waving off his apology. “I was just teasing.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, feeling his heart start pounding harder. “Good.”

Giggling, she gave him a small nod. “Good.” She smiled down at her lap and fidgeted with her skirt, tapping her toes against the floor. “Well, I think we ought to go ahead and get to work then.” Slapping her hands down on her knees, she stood up and looked over her shoulder at him, that sweet smile still plastered on her face. “Come find me if there’s anything I can do to help you with gettin’ that proof.”

He gave her a look of gratitude. “Thank you.”

Her smile grew. “Of course.”

With that, she left, giving him a final pat on the shoulder as she made her way towards the front door. When he heard the door click shut behind her, he let out a shaky breath and pressed a hand to his chest, trying to calm his stampeding heart.

If the bureau didn’t get to him first, he swore that woman— the way she made him feel— was going to kill him.

———

Hours later, Jack sat hunched over his desk, repeatedly tapping the shiny fountain pen Lilly had bought him against a sheet of paper. He was wracking his brain, trying to think of where he could get some proof of everything that had happened to his family. Of all of Ross and Fordham’s misdeeds. Unfortunately, he wasn’t having much luck coming up with anything.

So far, all he had written down was a list of people who could vouch for him: Bonnie and her ranch hands, the bartenders and shopkeepers who had known his father, and an old friend of his parents, Charles Smith. Jack doubted that their word alone would be enough, however. They could easily be accused of lying for him and written off entirely.

Tommy said that he needed something concrete. Something impossible— or at least difficult— to refute. Ideally, Jack wanted to find another written record of events, but he wasn’t sure where such a thing could be. He wished Tommy hadn’t taken his father’s journal with him; being able to read over it again might give him a better idea.

For now, he supposed all he could do was wait until he got it back. Hopefully, that would be sooner rather than later.

With a sigh, Jack dropped his pen on his desk and rested a hand on his forehead. He scanned over the list of names he’d written several times over, hoping that something else useful would pop into his head.

As he made what felt like his hundredth pass over the list, his eyes lingered on Charles’s name. He was listed because after Jack’s father died, his mother had him send out a letter informing the man. He was the only one of their old friends who they’d still semi-regularly kept in touch with. When Charles replied to their letter, sending his condolences, Jack, with his mother’s guidance, wrote him another to better explain the situation.

Eventually, this led to him sending a whole series of letters, which went into great detail about all of the events of that dreadful year— and the years following. Most of them focused heavily on everything he and his mother had endured.

Jack wondered if Charles might still have them. A stack of signed and dated letters that supported his claims might give him some of the proof he needed. Although, if his father’s journal wasn’t concrete enough, why would the letters be? And that’s not to mention how unlikely it was that Charles kept them for all these years. Jack may have been in the habit of keeping every letter he received, but that didn’t mean everyone else was.

Surely, it couldn’t hurt to ask though….

Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled open one of his desk drawers and rifled through it until he came across a small stack of telegram blanks. He took one out and slapped it down in front of him to write out a telegram to Charles. A simple letter wouldn’t arrive fast enough. Picking his pen back up, he scrawled a simple message onto the small slip of paper:

Charles,

Ma passed August. Need back letters sent 1911-14 if you kept them. Can’t explain.

— J. Marston

He scooped the telegram up by its edge and waved it in the air for a few seconds to speed up the ink drying. Once it seemed dry enough, he got up and left his bedroom, not wanting to waste any time in getting it sent. He rushed out of the house, but before leaving, he decided to let Lilly know so she wouldn’t worry where he’d gone.

It wasn’t hard to find her; he only had to walk around the corner to the other side of the porch. He froze when he spotted her sitting on the bench, looking down at her lap with her brows drawn together and a pensive frown etched onto her face. Her violin was sitting in her lap, and she appeared to be messing about with it.

He approached her, but she didn’t notice him until he uttered, “Hey.”

She looked up, appearing startled at first but quickly putting on a smile. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi.” As soon as the word left his mouth, he internally berated himself, You already said hello, idiot. Luckily, Lilly didn’t appear to pay his stupidity any mind, so he shook off his embarrassment and strolled closer to her. “What’re you doin’?”

“Just tunin’ the violin.” She grabbed the instrument by the neck and held it up to show him before setting it back in her lap. “Haven’t played it in a while, and the poor thing sounded like a dying cat.”

“Oh,” he said, resting a hand on his belt. “That don’t sound nice.”

She chuckled. “No, it doesn’t.”

Lilly returned her attention to the violin, going back and forth between fiddling with one of the pegs and plucking one of the strings. Jack quietly watched her fingers work, interested in the subtle ways the sound changed with each pluck of the string.

“How’re you supposed to tell it’s tuned right?” he asked.

Without looking away from her task, she replied, “Well, ideally you’d use a tuning fork, but I haven’t got any.” She shrugged then smiled up at him. “It becomes second nature after a while though, so I manage pretty fine without it.”

Jack nodded and hummed in response. Going silent again so as not to disturb her, he continued to watch and listen. With a few more adjustments, she seemed to get the sound she’d wanted out of the instrument, and another soft smile appeared on her face. Involuntarily, he mirrored it.

She moved on to the next string—which let out a much less pleasant sound than the previous one— but his gaze remained fixed on her face. He didn’t think he’d ever get over how beautiful she was. He could sit there with her for hours.

To his dismay, the smile on her face gradually faded away, and that despondent look he’d seen when he’d first come outside returned.

He furrowed his brows and frowned. “Are you alright?”

She looked up at him and shook her head, the smile returning to her face in an instant. “Yeah, I’m…” She trailed off and pressed her lips together, glancing away from him. Her face fell again, and her next words came out much softer: “No. I’m not.” She sighed and hung her head. “Not really.”

He sat down on the bench beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“I, um…” She hesitated, her eyes searching the ground as if the answer was written somewhere on the porch. Drawing in a shaky breath, she returned her gaze to him. “I told Tommy that I'd stop hiding from my mother if he helped you.” She gave him a sad smile that hurt even worse than the frown it replaced. “I guess I’m a bit stressed about that.”

The admission hit him with the force of a thousand trains. He’d wondered what she’d said to get Tommy to agree to help him, but that wasn’t anything he ever would’ve considered a possibility. He knew how much she didn’t want to be found, and he heard how much vitriol she spoke of her mother with. Why would she just give it up now?

“What— Why?” he stammered, giving her a look of horror. “You didn’t have to do that. Why would you—”

“I did have to,” she insisted. “I had to get him to agree, and I know that’s the one thing he’s been wanting more than anything. I couldn’t… I can’t stand to see anything bad happen to you.” Tears began to well up in her eyes, and she sucked her lips in. Dropping her voice to a whimper, she added, “It’d kill me.”

Those words sent a knife through his heart.

She sniffled and looked down at her lap. “Besides, I can’t keep this up much longer anyway. Not with the damn government sniffin’ around me.” Her eyes returned to his, and another sad smile spread across her lips. “And if I’ve gotta be found, I might as well get something important to me out of it, right?”

Jack parted his lips and blinked at her, speechless. The look in her eyes floored him. He swore he’d seen it before— in the eyes of his mother when she’d look at his father. There was a hint of worry there, an uncertainty for the future, a subtle sadness, but most importantly of all, an unmistakable and overwhelming love.

Slowly, it dawned on him. She loved him back.

That was why she was doing this, wasn’t it? He couldn’t come up with another explanation. There wasn’t another explanation. It was clear as day, even to a clueless idiot like himself. And maybe it had always been clear. It would explain why she’d continued to be his friend despite it destroying her reputation. Why she’d agreed to help him on the ranch. Why she’d stayed with him through all of the trouble with the bureau.

It explained everything.

He should’ve been ecstatic. She loved him, just as he loved her. That was what he wanted, after all. Yet all of that excitement he should’ve felt was overshadowed by a deep sense of trepidation. He was in deep shit with the Ross situation. Despite all of the help and hope he was being offered, he knew deep down that his odds weren’t great.

What would happen to her if he told her how he felt and then failed to get away with killing Ross? What would happen to her if he started a relationship with her and then got hanged or thrown in prison? It would kill her, she’d said. The thought made his stomach turn.

He had seen how his father’s death broke his mother down into a shell of herself. He didn’t want anything similar to happen to Lilly; he didn’t want her to ever feel a fraction of that pain. As much as every part of his heart yearned for her, he couldn’t risk starting a doomed relationship with her. He couldn’t risk causing her that much pain. He cared too much about her.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” Lilly said with a sniffle, and some crazed part of Jack feared she’d somehow been reading his mind. That was quickly disproven when she wiped a stray tear from her cheek and added, “She can’t do anything to hurt me. Physically.”

He parted his lips, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what to say. His brain had checked out the second she’d given him that look. As his silence droned on, it grew awkward. Lilly began to squirm a bit and fidget with her fingernails.

Her eyes floated away from his face and down to his hands. Brows furrowing, she reached over and tapped on one of his knuckles. “Um, whatcha got there?”

The question snapped him out of his stupor, and he looked down at his hand, spotting the telegram he’d written still firmly grasped between his fingers. Remembering why he’d come out there in the first place, he stammered, “It’s a telegram. To someone who might be able to help me get some of that proof we talked about.” He held the slip of paper up. “I-I was ‘bout to head down to Blackwater to send it.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said. “I hope something comes of it.”

“Me too.” He fidgeted. “Um, d-did you wanna go too?”

A half-hearted chuckle escaped her lips. “No, thanks. I don’t really feel like being stared at and whispered about by Blackwater’s finest. I had enough of that yesterday.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped, and a helping of guilt was piled onto his already overflowing plate of emotions. People stared at her because of him. It was his fault they whispered about her. Yet another reason she shouldn’t be with him. All he’d ever done was bring her trouble.

Seeming to sense his dejection, Lilly added, “I also want to finish this.” She lifted the violin off her lap and plucked a couple strings. “Gotta make sure it sounds nice for the grand party we’re gonna throw you once you get let off the hook.” She punctuated her statement with a wink.

He forced a laugh for the joke and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hopefully that party actually gets to happen….”

“It will,” she said with an unwavering confidence and certainty that he wished he could have.

Unsure of what to say, he responded with a grateful nod. “Well, I should get goin’ now. I don’t want the telegraph office to close before I can get there.” He stood up and hesitated a moment before giving her an awkward wave. “Um, bye.”

She responded with one of those sweet smiles that he loved so much, but this time, it made his chest ache with sorrow. Everything he wanted was sitting right in front of him, wanting him just the same. But he couldn’t have it.

“See you later,” she said.

“Right.” He corrected himself, “See ya later.”

Jack walked away, trying to swallow the massive lump forming in his throat.

#jack marston #adult jack marston #rdr1 #rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption #my writing #//my blessed son

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blueraineshadows · 1 year

Text

Dark Betrayals Part Three

Sebastian 🔺️F!MC 🔺️ Ominis

Triggers: violence, murder, explicit language, implied sexual assault. Chapter One .... Two

NSFW 🔞 violence and sex

Chapter Three - Of Love And Murder

The afternoon had brought a low fog to the city of London, the air chilly and the light dull. MC had wrapped herself in a shawl, curled up on the chair near the fire to read. Her mind needed distraction. The night at the duel pit plagued her. The fun, the edge of danger and anticipation awaking an old excitement in her. Sebastian's lips on her cheek...

The front door opened and Ominis entered, slamming the door shut behind him. MC looked up from her book. Ominis appeared tired and agitated. He moved across the room towards the kitchen, pulling off his robe with a sigh. He tilted his head, listening, and MC closed her book with a soft thump to signal where she was. He turned her way.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, getting to her feet. "You look a little agitated."

He frowned, deeply, and pulled out a chair from under the table to sit down. He leant his elbows on the table top and put his face in his hands. "I've just come from a visit with my family," he said, quietly.

MC grimaced and went to him immediately. Why he continued to visit with them was a mystery to MC. The Gaunts were cold, cruel and insufferable. She avoided them as much as possible.

"I can only imagine how well it went," she said. She smoothed her hands over his shoulders, feeling the tension in them. Gently, she began to massage them, rolling her thumbs against him through his clothing. He groaned in appreciation, sitting back in the chair.

"Tell me about it," she said.

He sighed. "They brought up the subject of marriage again. They are quite displeased that I have not taken you as my wife," he said. "I have told them to mind their business, but they are obsessed with continuing the blood line. When I told them that I had no intention of having any children, they were most upset."

MC knew his views on the matter, and she understood. But her hands slowed a little as she pondered his words. "You mean never to have children at all?"

He stilled, his head turned a little towards her behind him. "I thought I had made that clear," he said. He hesitated. "Are you suggesting that's not how you feel?"

"Honestly? I haven't given it much thought," she said, slowly. "I'm still young. We both are."

It was true. She was only 21, there was plenty of time to decide. She didn't want to completely rule the idea out, and it made her uncomfortable to think that he wouldn't be swayed. She tried to picture herself with a child, it's hair blonde like his. Who would the child look like? It was hard to imagine, but would it be so terrible?

He shifted, turning in the chair, reaching out, searching for her hand with cool fingers. She gave it to him and he pulled her closer towards him, his other hand slipping about her waist.

"I have you, and that's all I need," he said. "The thought of breeding more Gaunt children into the world, only for them to grow up and be married off to people they don't love or want, it fills me with dread. Any child of mine would be nothing more than another pawn in my family tree."

"I understand," she said, softly. Disappointment flooded through her and she swallowed it down. Her reaction surprised her. She really had not thought much about children, but to be told a firm no had instinctively made her balk.

She slid her fingers through his soft, blonde hair trying to offer him some comfort and he closed his eyes at the touch. He looked so beautiful, so tired. She suppressed her own feelings, not wanting to look at them too closely. "Don't fret, Ominis. I'm not asking you for children."

He pressed his face into her front, his grip on her tightening. "You are everything I want," he said, his voice muffled against her blouse. "I love you."

Her heart squeezed. He did not say those words very often. She held him tightly against her, soothing him with her fingers. She bent to kiss him on the head. "I love you, too," she whispered.

She did. Of course she did. She had been living with him for three years, slept beside him every night, and he was the only man to have taken her for his own. They had shared so much together.

Ominis stood, his mouth pressing kisses wherever he could, his fingers working fast at the buttons on her blouse. There was something urgent and desperate about him as he pulled her blouse free and pressed his mouth to her neck. She gasped as he sucked at her, drawing her skin sharply into his mouth, his fingers digging into her hip.

"I need you," he groaned. He backed her up to the table, fumbling at her skirt. She let him, bending to his will, letting him take what he wanted because so often she held back, and she felt bad for it.

He continued to kiss her neck, and her head tipped back, his hand sliding up her thigh. At the first deft stroke of his fingers, she moaned, her eyes closing. He worked her gently, easing her open before sliding two fingers into her.

An image flashed behind her eyes. A dark tunnel, glittering brown eyes, a mouth whispering at her ear.

She gasped, eyes flying open to fix her gaze on blonde hair, the familiar surroundings of home. Ominis worked his fingers a little faster. "Mmm, you feel so good," he approved. "You're always so perfect for me."

She heard the release of his belt, the fumble of clothing as he took himself out, she kept her eyes on him as he lined himself up to her.

It was Ominis. She loved him. This is what she wanted.

She braced herself on top of the kitchen table as Ominis slid deep inside her, and she arched her back, moaning at the familiar feel of him. As Ominis fucked her, MC's eyes drifted closed again.

Think of me when he fucks you.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the table as the burning ache inside of her twisted deliciously. Behind her eyes, freckled skin, a mischievous smirk, remembering the weight of Sebastian's body pinning her against the wall. She quivered, a low moan slipping past her lips.

Ominis gripped her hips, angling her just perfectly, his own hips bucking and grinding against her, fucking her deep. MC lay back on the table, her back arched, cries spilling from her lips as her heat began to build. A flush spread across her cheeks as she remembered whispered words in a dark tunnel, the forbidden graze of lips against her cheeks.

Think of me. You know where to find me now.

Gods, what if it was Sebastian fucking her on the kitchen table? She would bet anything that he would take her hard and fast, fuck her until she couldn't breathe. The very thought of it had her clenching tightly, her orgasm ripping through her, her hand reaching out to grasp something, anything, and she knocked a pile of papers to the floor, the pages spilling everywhere.

Ominis quickened his pace and found his own release, panting, his hands smoothing up her waist to pull MC upwards, holding her against him.

She let Ominis hold her, his hands stroking her back and hair, while her heart raced, her cheeks burning with the shame of where her mind had taken her. He whispered intimate words of affection that fell into her ears and made her shiver. She was grateful he couldn't see the devastated look on her face, the tears pooling in her eyes. If he knew what she had been thinking as he fucked her, he would be furious, and he would have every right to be.

Sebastian had got into her head. He had crept inside and woken something up. Even now, in her guilt and shame, an ache burned deep within. An ache to feel hands and lips, to taste kisses.

It pained her, but it felt like the void between her and Ominis had just widened a little more, despite their physical intimacy just now. MC didn't know what she was going to do.

....*....

With a gentle hand, MC bathed Daisy's cuts and bruises, her eyes sad and worried as she took care of her friend. Daisy winced at the sting of the Dittany paste being rubbed into a graze. She eyed the potion bottles that MC had taken from her own stash. "You really make all this stuff yourself?'

MC smiled grimly. "Mostly, yes. I don't really have much call for it all these days though, and I know a lovely potioneer who helps me out if I need anything quickly. Luckily, I had these to hand when you sent your message."

"Thank you for coming so quickly," Daisy said.

London was still under a blanket of fog, and MC had taken the Floo Network to get to The Black Rose pub as soon as possible. The streets of London were dangerous at night, and in the fog the fear crept along your skin like crawling fingers. She was thankful for living in the Wizarding World and the perks it gave one travelling alone.

Daisy gave MC a curious look as she worked on the bruising near her eye. "Was your man okay about you coming here?"

MC concentrated on the task at hand, avoiding Daisy's look. "He wasn't home when I left," she said. And she had been relieved to not have to explain where she was going. She had been distant with him since they'd had sex on the kitchen table. Her guilt slithered through her, but her mind continued to torment her with thoughts about Sebastian.

"I would have come regardless. You know I would do anything for you."

Daisy lowered her eyes. "I'm okay, MC," she said.

"Your client beat the shit out of you, Daisy," MC said with a sigh. "That's not okay, not in any way."

Daisy shrugged. "It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. It's a whore's life."

MC hated the accepting tone in her friend's voice. She sat back, looking at Daisy. She was a pretty girl and young enough to be whatever she wanted. "I wish I could get you out of here. You deserve so much better."

Daisy smiled and took hold of MC's hand. "You're a good friend, MC. You've always taken care of me, ever since we were little kids. But, this is my home. Where else would I go? I don't know anyone, and these people here are like family now. Don't worry about me. I know what this life is, you gotta roll with the punches."

"Anyone else punches you, and they will have me to deal with," MC frowned.

"Just fix me up all pretty," Daisy grinned. "I'll treat you to a drink after to say thank you."

MC gave her a reluctant smile and continued to patch Daisy up. This conversation wasn't over.

....*....

Coming to the Black Rose was always a risk, he could be seen, by a snitch or even an Auror. It wasn't unheard of for them to come in and make use of the services. The Black Rose whores were some of the better quality on offer in the city.

Benny Cripps owned the pub, it was right in the middle of his patch in the city, and he liked his coin collected on the regular. Sebastian did the collecting most of the time, delivering it to their contact at Gringotts bank.

Tonight, as he walked through the fog, taking advantage of the extra shield of cover it provided, he thought he might even stop for a drink or two. It had been a long week.

That idea had been finalised as a great one when he had strolled into the bar to see a giggling, flushed MC sitting at a table with Daisy. He had paused, taking in the sight. Daisy had clocked him immediately and had given him her most prettiest smile. But, he only had eyes for the witch sitting with her.

As always, MC looked utterly beautiful.

It had been easy to accept the drink offered, to slide into a seat at their table. MC's eyes were soft, alcohol weakening her resolve. The look she gave him almost had him dragging her across the table to claim that mouth. But he reigned his lust in.

There were too many eyes in this place that were attached to loose mouths.

"It's not like you to stick around, handsome," Daisy said. Her lips curved upwards, and her eyes flicked towards MC. "I wonder what's attracting you here this evening."

He liked this whore. She was pretty, sweet. Tonight her face was rather banged up, but he never asked questions. He didn't meddle with that side of the business. But he could smell the Dittany, and the wounds were healing fast. MC had been here working her magic with those delicate healing hands.

He looked down at her slender fingers, remembering all the times she had patched him up after a scrap. Hmm, what was attracting him here, indeed.

"How can a gentleman say no when he is invited to join two such lovely ladies?" He smiled. He picked up his whiskey glass and drained it.

"Calling yourself a gentleman now, are you?" MC teased. "My, my, Sallow. You have gone up in the world."

He quirked his eyebrow, unable to resist a tease. "And there was me thinking I was so much better at going down." He winked and enjoyed the glorious blush that stained her cheeks.

He lifted his glass. "Another round?"

Cole, the bar tender carried over the whiskey bottle as Sebastian leaned on the bar. Sebastian shook his head. "Got any bottles of Absinthe in?"

Cole smirked. "Of course."

"I'll take 3 shots." He pulled the coins from his pocket and handed them over. A glance to the table showed the girls with their heads bent close, talking quickly, MC throwing quick glances his way. Clearly, they were discussing him and he smirked. He was rather enjoying this evening.

When he placed the three shot glasses of vivid green liquid on the table, Daisy giggled, but MC eyed it suspiciously.

"What the fuck is that?" She asked. She leaned over it for a closer look, then sniffed. She winced. "Fuck, this looks like something Weasley would have created!"

Sebastian laughed. "You're not wrong. It's Absinthe, the little green fairy. If you want to forget your troubles for a while, get this down your neck. No more fucks given, trust me."

Her head bent low over the glass, her eyes lifted to meet his and he stilled, locking gazes with her. With her lips slightly parted and a devilish gleam in those gorgeous eyes, he felt the air evaporate from his lungs. She smiled, a slow, wicked smile and his own lips curved in response.

She lifted the glass and threw the contents back, her throat working as she swallowed.

Gods, he wanted to fuck her, make her his.

MC coughed and spluttered, slamming her glass back down and laughing as she wiped her mouth. "Bloody hell!"

Sebastian smiled. He had missed her so much.

He realised Daisy was watching him, her eyes passing between him and MC, a knowing smirk on her lips. He cleared his throat and looked away. Fuck, was he even blushing?

He grabbed his own glass of Absinthe and threw it back, coughing at the strength of it. He stood up, his seat scraping against the grubby wooden floor. "I'll be back," he said.

MC met his eyes for an instant. Yeah, the way she was looking at him was dangerous. He needed to put some distance between them before he did something stupid. He needed some air.

The street outside was quiet, Knockturn Alley full of shadows and fog. A cloaked figure wandered past, giving Sebastian a wide berth as they disappeared into the murk.

That was one thing he disliked about this city, the stinking smog. In Scotland, the mists were pretty, the air clean. He missed it sometimes, the sound of the ocean and the peace of Feldcroft.

He looked back at the pub door. MC was inside there, looking beautiful, smiling at him. Something twisted in his chest. He had wanted to tempt her, get his revenge on Ominis by luring her away, but it was turning into something else. He was slipping down a slope he hadn't been prepared for. Under the desire to have her in his bed, his body aching to claim her, there was this deep, empty space lurking underneath it all. A space that only she could fill.

He hadn't realised how much he had missed her until being this close to her had ripped up all the walls he had built around his heart.

Fucking hell. He wanted her. She was his, and she always had been. And she was on the other side of that door. He turned ready to go back to her.

A high-pitched scream split through the murky dark. He spun, startled. It was coming from the rear of the pub. He hesitated.

"MC! No!"

His stomach lurched. And then he ran, his hand whipping out his wand as he rounded the Black Rose and sprinted for the back courtyard. Skidding to a stop, he quickly assessed the scene before him.

Marvolo Gaunt's top duelist, Gren, had Daisy by the throat, a fresh wound blooming on her face. She was grappling at the grip around her neck, her eyes wide as she stared at MC.

MC was in a duelling stance, arms up, wand pointed at Gren, her face one of cold fury.

Gren was laughing. "Put your wand down you little bitch," he cackled. "Whatcha gonna do? Hex me?"

MC tensed, and Sebastian felt his stomach twist. Gren had no idea what he was messing with, but then Gren was also a bloody good duelist. There was a reason he was Marvolo's best money maker on his books.

Sebastian edged forward, hands up. "Alright, easy now," he said, carefully. He looked at Gren. "Let the girl go, Gren."

Gren shook his head. "I paid good coin for this pussy, and I'm here to collect," he said. "The bitch kicked me out before I could get what I'm owed."

"Get your hands off her," MC hissed.

Gren narrowed his eyes. "Shut your mouth or I'll pound your cunt next."

Sebastian felt rage snap through him, a white hot crackle that made him hold up his own wand. Nobody spoke to MC like that, and Gren definitely wouldn't be laying one dirty finger on her skin. Sebastian would remove said finger first, slowly, painfully.

"Watch your mouth," he warned. His voice was like ice.

Daisy whimpered and struggled against Gren. "Just let him take me inside," she pleaded. "MC, please, don't do anything stupid!"

"Listen to the slut, MC," Gren said. "She knows the score."

Gren squeezed Daisy's throat and she choked, her face turning red. Sebastian stepped forward and then flinched as MC screamed in fury. A blinding flash of blue and white erupted around her, flickering like a blue blaze.

Gren's eyes widened, the terrifying light reflected in the glassy orbs of his eyes before it streamed towards him in a pulsing beam, hitting him right in the face. Gren let go of Daisy, and she slumped to the floor, Gren's body was thrown back against the wall of the pub with a sickening smack. Blood sprayed up the brick from the back of his head, and he tumbled forward, face planting on the stone slabs, the blood pooling darkly around his corpse.

Sebastian stared at the body in shock before slowly turning his gaze to MC. She was shaking, the last wisps of ancient magic absorbing back into her body as she stared at Gren, face pale.

Daisy sat up, holding her bruised throat. Her voice came out husky, bruised. "Oh, MC, what did you do? What have you done?"

Sebastian felt ice pool in his gut. Daisy was right. Marvolo Gaunt was going to fucking kill her!

He met Daisy's gaze. "Nobody finds out about this," he said. "Nobody."

Daisy coughed and rapsed a cry, her arm lifting to point in alarm. Sebastian spun in time to see a lackey backing up and taking off at a run behind him. He went to give chase, running after the witness who would take this news straight to Marvolo. He lifted his wand ready to cast, but he was too late, shock making him too bloody slow.

A cry of frustration left his throat as the lackey Disapparated with a crack. "Fuck!" He screamed.

Hurrying back to the girls, Sebastian felt sick. This was bad, really fucking bad. Marvolo was a cold bastard and suffered no slight without a price.

MC was standing in the same place, her wand in her hand, staring into space. Daisy was shaking her. "MC, you need to leave, now," she rasped. "MC!"

Sebastian grabbed MC's arm, she gave him a blank look. Daisy looked up at him. "Get her out of here. I know I can trust you with her," she said. She put a shaking hand on Sebastian's arm. "Keep her safe, Sebastian. She's my family, my heart. I can't lose her."

MC was his heart too. The thought crashed into him like a sledge hammer. "Of course," he said.

Daisy backed up from them, nodding. "Go!"

Daisy trusted him with MC. But did he trust himself?

He pulled her in close, her face was blank shock, and he completely understood. He'd been there. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I've got you," he whispered.

With one last look at Gren's dead body, Sebastian Disapparated, taking MC with him.

To be continued.... Part Four

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt #blueraineshadows

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tyranasauruslex · 9 months

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What did Roman and Lukas get each other for Christmas?

Lukas

Lego.

To prevent even more arguments and family hostility, the remaining Roy’s have decided to do Secret Santa which initially sounded like a good idea, until Tom kept trying to tamper with the selection process to get Lukas (an easy win to suck up to your boss over Christmas) whilst Kendal refused to let Shiv, Tom, Lukas or Greg participate. After much sibling bickering, Shiv and Lukas are allowed back in the Secret Santa draw but when Roman excitedly brings this up to Lukas, he’s met with a firm no.

Already perplexed by the vast amount of unwritten, and quite frankly confusing, Neurotypical social rules and expectations surrounding Christmas, adding surprise gifts into the mix is just too much for Lukas. If someone insists on getting him something - like Oskar or his mum - then he will provide them with a very specific list that must not be deviated from otherwise he gets overwhelmed and flustered. Roman reports back with a vague explanation that Lukas is fine not being in the Secret Santa which annoys Kendall because now they’re an odd number and Willa decide that she’s getting him something anyway which Roman has to repeatedly tell her not to do.

Oskar then makes it his mission to explain to Lukas that Roman would probably like to get him a Christmas present and after weeks of pestering, Roman is eventually presented with a piece of paper that just says Lego on it. Usually he would be more specific but he trusts Roman - although he does get increasingly more anxious the closer it gets their gift exchange; he’s still not quite nailed down the appropriate response to receiving something he doesn’t like.

At first Roman is a little underwhelmed that all Lukas wants is an assortment of plastic bricks, until he discovers that he can do a custom order and ends up with a large scale Viking Village, Viking Longboat and a bunch of villagers designed to look like Team GoJo. It’s a bit odd giving someone a gift they already know they’re getting, and unwrapped as requested, but Lukas seems genuinely excited when Roman hands over the Lego. Like, incredibly excited and Roman knows him well enough by now to know this isn’t Lukas masking or pretending he likes the gift to spare his feelings. They end up making the Viking Longboat together before Roman flies off to Scotland with the other Roys for Christmas and Lukas heads back to Sweden.

Lukas then keeps sending him “Building Updates” of the Viking village which is the most adorably dorky thing Roman has ever seen.

Roman

A cat.

The dog cage story comes up one evening after Roman has a nightmare about being trapped in a cage and unable to get out. It didn’t sound like the amusing childhood story he tried to make it out to be, and Lukas adds it to his ever growing list of reasons why he needs to protect Roman from his insane family. Once the panic had subsided, Roman joked that he’d always preferred cats anyway and Lukas knows enough by now to know that there’s a lot of truth hidden in those “jokes” so he sets about finding Roman the perfect furry friend for Christmas. A cat is also better than whatever silly Secret Santa gift the Roy’s will come up with, so Lukas is pretty confident that he’ll “win” Christmas. It’s a long process because’s Lukas is obsessed with finding the perfect cat for Roman until Oskar finds a Norwegian Forest Cat breeder just outside Gothenburg. They ditch their meetings for the day and head up into the countryside to pick one out.

There’s an amber coloured one, smaller than the rest, that keeps being trampled over by the all the other kittens that the breeder tries to dissuade him from looking at, but it’s also the only one that manages to scale it’s way up Lukas’s leg and eventually sit on his shoulder; purring loudly for attention. Twelve weeks later the newest member of Team GoJo is making his way through the Swedish countryside to Lukas’s mums house in preparation for Roman’s arrival on Boxing Day. Roman has barely got through the door before Lukas is pulling him up to their bedroom to finally give him his present that’s been trying to claw it’s way out of the cat carrier.

After he stops crying, Roman names his new BFF Sven and Lukas is satisfied with the knowledge that not only did he make his boyfriend happy but he also won Christmas.

Six months later Sven the Cat has 11 million followers on instagram and spends his time traveling the globe with his dads and invading Lego Viking villages.

#lukas matsson #roman roy #romelukas #roman x lukas #roman roy x lukas matsson #romanlukas #romlukas

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dankovskaya · 1 year

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Yeah the idea of Leon being "in love" with like. His idea of who Ada is based on a couple very specific encounters wherein basically all of Ada's interactions with him are highly controlled and strategic and often catered to whatever she believes will most effectively get what she wants out of him is weird and definitely makes him seem like a moron at best and some kind of creep at worst. But he does definitely have residual attachment towards her largely as a consequence of that one night in Raccoon City and I think the most flattering way to interpret it would be that he is fully conscious and aware of the fact that absolutely nothing that Ada has ever shown him of herself is the real Ada but he can't kick the part of him that really really wants to see even a glimpse of what is under that mask.

Vaguely romantically intentioned or otherwise I think Leon just desperately wants to feel like the mutual surface level familiarity or recognition they develop over a series of semi-coincidental high-stress encounters is even remotely balanced bc even with his sarcastic and dry defensive exterior she can still practically read his mind at a glance while he never gets to see so much as a crack in her persona and doesn't even know her real name 😭

And like I don't think he actually EXPECTS to get what he wants especially by the end of re4 reunion but I think there is this like. One sided tension and maybe even grief on his part over the fact that he's probably never going to get to know who she ACTUALLY is even though she was so integral to the most formative event of his entire life mixed with the weird residual emotions he feels for spending half a decade thinking he practically killed her and all of this is in conflict with his also very real resentfulness of the way she has treated him and lied to him and distrust of her profoundly unclear motivations etc. When people say Leon is "obsessed" with Ada I don't think that's really accurate but I DO think he can't let himself think about her too often or he'll drive himself crazy wondering who the hell she is.

And of course another major reason he wants so badly to know something genuine about her is because he is so desperate for her to give him a solid reason to trust her. Which Ada naturally does not give a shit about because whether or not he trusts her fundamentally and no matter how much he might bark about it he's still gonna act like her dog when she's around cause he's still repaying his "debt" 😭 (And it's also interesting I guess to see how that changes over time i.e. by the time of like, re6, which is essentially "Ada gets framed" the game, Leon really doesn't really have any reservations about defending her and he's pretty firm in his resolution to do so. Which again you can interpret as him being a moron with a residual crush on her exterior, or you can interpret as him no longer really giving a shit about Quote Unquote Moral Concerns and playing by personal compulsive raccoon city loyalty rules 😭)

Also, in a similar vein to that, with his own presumably quite lonely and isolated and inherently dehumanizing life as a secret agent guy, he probably views Ada as the only person "in his life" who might be able to relate to him without being (in a sympathetic interpretation of Leon's perspective of his job) tainted by the same institution that has quite literally stolen his life from him. So again, it all ties back to him knowing that he doesn't know her, but wishing that he did. (I think I recall @theonlyadawong making a post interpreting that "night" they left off on referenced in damnation [which is clearly intended to be sexual😭] actually just being one long conversation wherein Leon gets to ask some of the many, many questions he's always had about her and Ada decides how much if it all she's willing to answer them and maybe asks a few in turn, and I'm just obsessed with the idea of that. Instantly incorporated into the worldview.)

All of this is to say I enjoy Aeon from a 99% one sided vaguely-slightly but not inherently romantic longing perspective but if they ever did become something explicitly romantic it would only possibly make sense to me if it was when Ada's whole...everything straight up stops working on Leon. It would have to be at a point where Leon has finally truly put her (and therefore Raccoon City by association) behind him, when he really stops reacting exactly as she expects him to, when he's actually capable of surprising her, and when he can meet her unexpected appearances with genuine indifference (all of which personally I don't think even could happen until he truly gets to make decisions about his own life again😭.) He's still Leon, he'd still help her if she was in trouble, but he's not gonna linger on it. I think only then could Leon possibly genuinely pique her interest as someone on equal standing and therefore open the door to her being even slightly inclined to share a hint of vulnerability with him and maybe actually eventually consider him a friend etc. I think knowing that he truly isn't looking at "Ada" when he looks at her would be absolutely necessary from her perspective. And this is why they kind of rule in re4make because it's absolutely the closest Leon has ever been to rejecting the dynamic that their (very meager and limited and mostly Leon-imagined) relationship was built on.

#TL;DR Aeon can't actually be real until Leon gets the fuck over her but I don't even necessarily want that because #the appeal to me is that Leon Can't completely get over the weird emotions he has surrounding her and suffers for it meanwhile Leon isn't #even a blip on her radar unless he happens to pop up on the chessboard immediately in front of her. Maybe once in a blue moon she sees or #hears something that reminds her of Leon Behavior and finds it amusing but she's definitely not losing #sleep over him the way that he absolutely has over her.#re #leon s kennedy #ada wong #aeon #<= yeah you could say idgaf 😏

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charmspoint · 7 months

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Sanguine Friday 1

In which I do my very very best to every friday post at least a little something about the original story I'm toying with, Sanguinary Waltz.

This week I bring you the blurb and the brief summary for the idea.

Next week I'll introduce the male lead.

Questions are welcome!

Blurb:

The gods are dead. Their angels brave the world like abandoned children. Vampires rise in droves, threatening to become to dominant species on the planet.

As an angel, Prinnsal knows that serving one being you know is better than testing the teeth of thousands you don’t. Freshly reeling from the betrayal and death of his own god, he throws himself into a service of a vampire. Duchess Eliza is everything nightmares are made of, sadistic, hungry and all too intently interested in using her new pet to social climb through the bloodthirsty world of her kin. With angels struggling for survival on one side and vampires trying to establish themselves on the other, the two enter a deadly dance of love, blood, and most importantly, utter obsession.

Summary:

The story is set in an alternate realty, in a world created by a group of gods. The gods initially made two groups of beings. Angels, who were their servants and nothing more than mindless, soulless tools for their will, and humans who served as more advanced toys of gods, able to make their own decisions. Most of the gods were satisfied with this, aside from the goddess of beauty, Lurza, who couldn’t make peace with her creations wilting and dying. To combat this, she made a new species, vampires, who she sent to earth to turn other humans and establish an era of eternal life and beauty. The gods fell into combat over this, most of them opposing Lurza’s plan, aside from the god of industry who had been courting her for centuries and who ravaged his own cities to provide aid to her cause. The war of the gods ended with all of them dead, with Lurza killing her lover to establish absolute control, with angels of all other gods left behind by their masters and the vampires allowed to freely rule over the world, increasing their numbers every day.

The story centres Prinnsal, an angel of the god of industry, trying to establish his own selfhood while surviving in the ravaged world left behind by the war. Prinnsal is bitter with his god because the years before the god’s death were filled with abuse and monstrous experiments to respec the angels under his rule. He had left the city his god had stationed him in, but not without being followed by one of the last angels to be created, still functioning on dead orders to keep her kin in line. To seek shelter from his pursuer, as well as the vampires that would more than gladly have him for breakfast, he enters into a deal with a low-ranking vampire, Duchess Eliza. In exchange for her protection, he gives away his life to service and acting as her walking blood dispenser.

Duchess Eliza wasn’t the first vampire ever created, but she was amongst them, as her family had been slain by the beasts some eighty years ago, turning them all. She is a devout worshiper of Lurza, often hosting parties and scarifies in the goddess’ name in order to appease her. Vampire society is split into strict social ranks and Eliza’s own is relatively low, so she dedicates herself to social climbing and power trips, trying to secure a firm grasp on the newly emerging horrors of the world. She sees a bragging right in Prinn. While most vampires do enjoy angel blood as a delicacy, it is hard to get by and most of the angel blood bags are prisoners being slowly drained in the basements. An angel on a leash is completely unheard of and therefor the deal grants her immense social benefits, along side the more material ones of fresh blood. She fully intends to eat Prinn if he becomes boring or useless to her agendas.

This is a story about struggle with identity. Developing one as an ex-tool and retaining one as a corrupted monster. It’s a story about evil, about people willing to do the unspeakable as long as it brings them to the top. It’s a story about love. Or maybe less love and more so obsession, worship, hunger. It’s a story of two people very determined to bend the world to their will if that is the only way they can survive it. A romance story. A horror story. A corruption story.

#lucy does a write #sanguinary waltz #sanguine friday #prinnsal #duchess eliza #be gentle on me this is the first time im actively trying to do something like this #if you like weird romance you read in cota you might enjoy this #because it will be a feral weird romance for sure

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