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ztarvokwrites · 1 month

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Dracule Mihawk - Actions Speak Volumes

a/n: yo yo yo! had this scenario in my head for a few days n decided to write abt it before i lose my train of thought haha! here u go <3

synopsis: it's only when you finally snap that he realises just how much you're hurting, thus he does everything he can to make it up to you.

reader is gn!

warnings: none, just angst, fluff, comfort, maybe a bit of sexual tension at the end if you squint hard enough.

word count: 1,626

Your actions as of recent have been nothing short of frustratingly annoying. After Mihawk returned from a 3-month escapade for only the best supplies for the Guild (he does not trust Buggy’s lackeys), you’ve been acting uncharacteristically cold towards him. Alvida knows what’s bothering you, yet refuses to tell him why you’re suddenly so ice cold, a harsh and bitter contrast to your warm and kind personality that he adored so much.

“You should already know that, seeing how you’re so perceptive of everything,” She says as he asks once again what your problem is. His eyes are on you as you silently help Cabaji set up some weapons in case they need to battle the Navy again. “But, if you can’t see they’re hurting because of you, you’re dumber than I thought.”

“And what exactly did I do to them, may I ask? All I did was go out for supplies,” Mihawk responds sharply, looking at the young woman beside him from the corner of his eye. Alvida looks at him, dumbfounded at the density of the former Warlord. She grunts, putting her hands on her hips.

“Yeah, for 3 whole months without telling them,” Exclaims the woman, brows furrowing as she looks towards you, arms folding over her chest again. “Honestly, I’m surprised they’re still with you considering how bad you’ve been treating them!”

This made his head snap towards her so fast that Alvida jolted back, eyes wide in fear. His golden eyes, usually cold and unfeeling, look surprised at her statement. Surely she’s bluffing, right? Mihawk can’t recall treating his partner poorly. Sure, they might’ve had a little argument here and there, but he was still devoted to them.

“...What makes you think I am treating my beloved so poorly?” He asks, his cold voice holding an edge of offence to Alvida’s accusation.

“Well…” Alvida hesitates, voice weak for a moment before she continues speaking with confidence. “You haven’t been spending much time with them, your attitude towards them is just downright mean, you brush off their concerns like they’re a waste of time, and-”

“Alvida,” You interrupted, walking up to her with your arms folded. “Stop complaining, would you? Me venting to you when I’m drunk doesn’t permit you to go to Dracule about our relationship troubles. This is something between Dracule and I, so keep your nose out of it.”

Dracule.

You’ve never used his first name before, let alone with such… Unfathomable coldness. Mihawk stares — no, gawks at you, his stoic expression faltering slightly into one of pure confusion. Was what Alvida said true? When your eyes meet his, he watches as you narrow your gaze, a silent command for him to speak to you privately now that he knows too much. His gaze holds your own for a few seconds until you walk away. Following you, he tries to strike up a conversation, but you shoot his attempts down with a simple, “We’ll talk when we’re in private, so be quiet and follow me.”

And so, in uncomfortable silence, Mihawk follows you into your shared tent, staring at you with his arms crossed as you sit at the table. You speak first before he can even open his mouth, airing out your grievances and spilling your heart to the man, knowing he can shrug it off like before. You speak of the neglect as of late, how he has been nonchalant and uncaring towards you, how you’ve been feeling unloved by the man and how you’ve been constantly put aside now that you’ve all formed the Cross Guild.

And perhaps you’ve seen this coming — no, you have seen this coming; the way he deflects and tries to downplay how badly he’s been treating you because he simply refuses to believe it. Of course, this turns into an argument that eventually gets heated, as tears sting your eyes and threaten to spill down your cheeks. You’re practically screaming at this point, desperately trying to get him to see your point of view.

“For once in your life, Dracule,” There you go again, using his first name as if it were venom on your tongue. “Think about me! Think about us! Instead of your top priority being disappearing without a trace for months on end, making me worried sick about you — you should be prioritising what this relationship means to you because this means everything to me! You mean everything to me!”

Mihawk goes silent at your outburst, his arms unfolding and resting by his sides as his attention falls on you. He’s not focused on what he refuses to believe anymore, he’s only focused on you. Only you. It’s like his world stops once he sees your grief-stricken face, your tears finally escaping your tear ducts and caressing your cheeks as they drift down to your chin, your lips pulled into a tight frown. His face remains stoic as he listens, finally listens to you.

Oh, how he wants to hold you in his arms and apologise, but he doesn’t. He just lets you yell at him and open his eyes to the truth… But you’re gone once you’re done speaking, you're pushing past him and walking out of the tent to get some well-deserved air. The former Warlord steps out of the tent, trying to see where you ran off to, but you are nowhere to be seen.

It’s then that he decides he’s going to make it up to you. He isn’t a fool, he knows he hasn’t been as affectionate as of late, and this argument has made him realise just how much he’ll lose if he loses you. Mihawk certainly doesn’t want to lose you, not after all you’ve been through together.

Throughout the day, he gives you your space but finds little things that remind him of you as he explores what Emptee Bluff’s Island has to offer. Whether it be flowers or your favourite drink in the town that’s opposite Buggy’s Town, he soon returns with three or four bags of gifts and groceries — ignoring the questioning looks on peoples’ faces as he casually carries the heavy bags to your shared tent with ease.

As the week progresses, he slowly starts giving you these gifts in secret, leaving them in your chair or your side of the bed in the morning. Whenever you’d see them, your heart would skip a beat and ache with confusion before a small blush would rise to your cheeks. You know he’s a man of few words, so you are glad he is acknowledging you like this.

Finally, the time comes for the perfect last gift — a romantic dinner under the stars, far away from the chaos of the Guild, even if it was just for an hour or two. You show up wearing your best outfit, a little nervous as it’s been a while since the argument and neither of you have properly talked since. It’s not hard to find the spot, as the candles on the grass illuminate the blanket that you find your partner patiently sitting on. A small pang in your heart strikes as he lifts his head, his golden eyes meeting your gaze and scanning over your outfit.

You can almost see it, the way his eyes light up behind his cold exterior upon seeing you dressed up like this. Honestly, it makes you flustered the way he just stares at you before motioning you to come forward and take a seat beside him.

“...I thought I’d treat you to something special tonight,” Begins Mihawk, pouring you a glass of wine as you sit down beside him. With a small smile, you take the glass from him and have a sip. “...I’ve been thinking about what Alvida had exposed to me, and what you said during our latest quarrel about a week ago.” A lump forms in your throat as you swallow the sip of your drink, feeling dread fill your stomach. There’s a small silence that overtakes you both as you avoid his gaze, looking up at the stars as he looks at you with those piercing eyes.

“...I don’t want to lose you like I almost did before,” Mihawk continues, staring at you as he puts his drink down on the blanket, his hand gently touching your forearm. “So let me make it up to you. I’m sorry, I promise to never make you feel unloved ever again.” You avert your gaze from the stars, finally looking towards him with tears glistening in your eyes. The hand that rests on your forearm now caresses your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that dares to slide down your flushed skin with his calloused thumb.

“...You’re an asshole sometimes, Mihawk,” You respond, your tone slightly playful yet mixing with a twinge of hurt. “You don’t notice how much you hurt me until it’s too late, and you’re a man with so few words that it surprises me you argue back… But, somehow, you eventually find the right words to say and I come crawling back to you. But I’ve noticed that this time, it’s different. Your actions have spoken volumes louder than your voice has, and it…” You stop rambling once you take in the way he’s looking at you.

The way a small smile barely tugs at his stoic lips, the way his golden eyes soften and pupils dilate as he takes you in. You blush, yet he finds himself smiling just a little more, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. The two of you find yourselves leaning in, and for a moment you think your lips are going to collide, but instead, Mihawk opens his mouth to say, “Would you like to see what I’ve prepared for this evening, my dear?”

starnote: i'm sleepy :)

dividers by @/ saradika!

#ztarvokwrites #one piece #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #cross guild #dracule mihawk x reader

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justanamesstuff · 1 year

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Unrequited love at the bookshop - Matty Healy

Part 4 of Unrequited love...

A/N: took a break from studying to edit it. Happy reading :)♥

Warnings: none, just two idiots in love.

Word count: 1.9k

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Y/n took a book from the shelf after admiring a few covers that caught her attention. She was well-aware of Matty’s body standing close to her. The local bookshop she liked to visit from time to time was cosy, Y/n adored wasting her hours around those bookshelves.

“No.” Matty immediately protested when Y/n turned a couple of pages.

Y/n kept her sight on the book, asking innocently, “What?”

She sensed him walking closer. Peeking over her shoulder to cheek what the book was about.

“I can see it in your eyes.” Matty accused her. His breath made a loose strand of her hair dance in the air. Y/n sighted loudly.

Matty was the first one to encourage her love for books, at the same time he kept her on check about buying ones she would probably never read.

“What do you mean?” Y/n tried really hard to keep her voice as neutral as possible, she didn’t want to let him know he was in fact right.

Matty was too clever for her liking. “You have enough books to read…”

“I wasn’t-” Y/n tried to object.

Matty was quick to stop her.“Oh, you so were!” he laughed, resting his hands on her shoulders. Even though Y/n had a tick coat on, she could sense the warmth of his hands. Her shoulders relaxed under his touch.

“It’s a classic! And look at this edition…” Y/n touched the spine of the book, feeling the soft friction of the material against her palm. “You can’t say to my face that you don’t think this is the most beautiful cop-” Y/n continued to ramble.

Matty cut her short, again, “I sure can.” He moved to stand at her side, taking a book he didn’t care about. Matty sensed her eyes on him, she was annoyed. Y/n always got annoyed when Matty joked about her fixation with books, even when she was aware Matty was only messing with her. “Soon I’ll open your flat's door and your books are going to kill me from an avalanche!” he gasped.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “You’re so dramatic, Healy!” moving a few feet apart from him, returning the book to rightful place.

Matty copied her actions, before walking behind Y/n like a lost puppy. “I’m not when it’s about your books.”

Y/n took a new one, trying to keep herself distracted.

“You have a lot of them all around your house…on the floor!” she accused her. It was another one of their debates about books. Y/n kept her beloved positions organized into shelves, by genres and alphabetical order. Matty made piles all around his house, which drove Y/n crazy. “Don’t get me started on that!”

“I don’t have as many as you…”

Y/n looked at him, “Yeah, no classics…” she protested. “You’re the cool postmodern bad boy that also reads!” the teasing was accentuated by a weird movement of her hands and limbs. Matty laughed at her poor impression of him. “Such a cliché.” Y/n said in a low breath, even though he heard her.

“Excuse me?” he continued with the teasing.

Y/n didn’t have more arguments to continue, so she just tried to shut him up. “Shh, I'm reading!”

Matty took a good look at the new book Y/n was holding. He moved closer.

“You already read that book, Y/n!” he complained, trying to take it from her hands. “At least, buy one you hadn't.” Matty advised Y/n, leaving a sweet kiss on her hair line.

Y/n admired Matty in complete silence. The singer closed the book, left it on the shelf, and tried to find one she didn’t have read. His frown trying to focus on the task was the cutest sight for Y/n’s eyes.

Everything was interrupted when Matty glanced at the other side where Y/n wasn’t standing, making short eye contact with a group of teenagers. He turned around, shielding Y/n from their view.

“Oh, shit…” he said under his breath, without taking another look at the group.

“What?” Y/n asked, intrigued by his sudden change of attitude.

“Fans.” Matty only explained for her.

He pushed Y/n to the end of the aisle, trying to be gentle while guiding her body from behind. Soon they were at a hidden corner of the bookshop, away from fans attention.

“They recognized me? I was trying to keep my profile low…” Y/n joked about it, she wanted to ease his tension. “Y’know, I just stay hidden at home. It’s impossible to breath with all this attention-“ she kept going, watching how Matty paranoid looked around.

“You’re not funny, you know?” he said, folding his arms, annoyed.

“I am!”

Y/n copied his posture.

“No.”

Y/n stared at his eyes, creating a battle of who could maintain it longer. She smirked.

Y/n clapped in front of his eyes, “Sure, let’s ask my fans!” she proposed and started walking.

She didn’t go very far. Matty stopped her, holding her by her hip when Y/n tried to walk around his body, blocking the way.

“No.” Matty said, shortly, looking down at her eyes. “If they approach us, I’ll talk with them. Not the other way around.” Y/n stayed there, mesmerized by his soft dominance. “This is the last evening, in…months, that I’m going to see you.” Matty explained the reasons behind his actions.

“One month.” Y/n corrected him.

Matty didn’t say anything about it. He continued, “And I love my fans, but I won't waste the short time we have away from you, love.”

Y/n boobed her head up and down, “Okay.” she agreed with him. His closeness was overwhelming, so she returned to her safe space: books.

Matty was cheeking his phone, meanwhile Y/n focused on a new story.

“You know what’s funny?” she interrupted the silence they had been for a few minutes.

“No, what?” he replied to a few messages from the boys and Jamie.

“They never paired us together.” Matty eyes grew three sizes when her words reached his ears.

He commented the reasonable thing to say, “Because we’re friends.”

Y/n didn’t stop talking her thoughts out loud. “Yes, I know. It’s strange. Like, every girl that breathes around you is dating you most of the time for fans and tabloids…”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“And yet, here we are.” Y/n closed the book with a big sound. “I’ve been around you for years now and not a single article. They even shipped you with Phoebe!”

“Let me get this right.” Matty rubbed his face. “You are angry because they don’t think we’re possibly dating?”

Y/n turned to be face to face again with Matty. She noticed he was trying –miserably– to suppress a smile. Matty waited for her answer patiently, entertained by her dissertation.

Y/n replayed his words, cringing instantly, “When you put it in that way, no.” she shook her head. “What I’m trying to say is that I feel underrated by public opinion. Like, I’m not suitable for Matty the ratty Healy?”

Matty’s face fell, “Y/n…”

“Am I not beautiful enough?” she let her hand swing into the air. Matty took it, catching it between his own.

“It’s not that!” Matty said, looking at her eyes.

Anything seems to work with her. Y/n didn’t know how to stop up to that point of the conversation. “Am I not smarter enough? I've met some of his girlfriends, and I don’t want to shame anyone but…I do have a higher IQ.” Matty wanted to laugh about how she was talking to him, but at the same time she was talking to herself as if he wasn’t standing in front of her.

“Y/n!” Matty tried to bring her back.

“What? I really want to know now.”

“There’s no conspiracy theory behind it. They know you’re my best friend.”

“I know! But…”

“Drop it.” Matty drew circles on her hand. He wanted to change the topic, although he didn’t want to be insensitive with her.

Y/n studied his factions, without uttering a single word.

She took her hand from his, muttering, “Annoying.”

“You can’t be bothered by this…” Matty made his try to laugh about it.

“Watch me.” she was so stubborn when she wanted.

“Y/n!”

Her cheeks were red, she wanted to floor to swallow her body, it was too late to abandon her battle. “What? I know is childish and…”

“Immature.” Matty contributed.

“Yeah, thank you.” her tone sarcastic. “What if I was famous and no one paired you with me, ha? How that would make you feel?”

“There’s no point-“

“What if they ship me with George…or Ross? Adam is probably in love with a Carly in every dimension.”

“You’re thinking way too serious about this.” Matty placed his hands at each side of her face, forcing Y/n to look at him.

“This is your fault.” Y/n protested.

Matty scoffed, “What? Why?”

“You and your fans underrate me.” she pouted like a little girl, action that made Matty melt.

Matty moved his hands to hold her blushed cheeks, “Woman, what are you talking about?”

“I just want to be called pretty…and good enough for-“

“Possible dating a rat?” Matty succeeded with his intention to make her laugh. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/n.” He admitted in a whisper.

Y/n couldn’t keep looking at his eyes, so she fixed her sight on his tie. “Yeah, well, no one ships me with someone famous.”

“I ship you with me.” Matty spat, before he could rationalize what he was going to say and stop. His heart was beating fast inside his chest.

“Matty…”

“Love…”

Matty leaned forward. His nose touched Y/n’s, when she was trying to understand if he was joking or not. She was expecting.

He didn’t look at her eyes, he just stared at her lips. Y/n felt the urge to wet her lips, making Matty’s mind spin. The singer let his lips barely brushed with hers.

Someone cleaned their throat from behind Matty’s form. “Excuse me-” the person started, “Do you need help with anything?” It was an employee from the shop.

Matty leaned backwards a few inches, staring at an amused Y/n. “No, we’re good” he replied without turning around.

“Okay, tell me if-“ the person tried to add.

Matty cut them shortly, “Thank you.”

Once the person was out of sight, Y/n started laughing at Matty.

“What?”

“You didn’t have to be mean!” Y/n half whispered, scared someone might listen.

Matty groaned. “I was going to display the most romantic kiss of my life…at a bookshop, standing beside Woolf and Wilde and this wank-“

“Matty!” Y/n complained, smiling wide. She tried to push his body from his shoulders.

“No, come here…we haven’t finished-“ Matty went to push her close again.

Interruptions were the order of the day. The frontman closed his eyes, Y/n admired him.

“Sorry…” A grown-up woman commenced shyly. “Are you Matty from the 1975?” she added then.

Matty wanted so hard to say no, so he could return to kiss Y/n for real this time. He glanced at her. They couldn’t be mean with fans. Y/n mimicked with her mouth a silence “go”, instructing him to talk with the woman. He breathed deeply.

“Hello, yes, nice to meet you.” Matty greeted her.

“I’m sorry to disturb you guys. My daughter is a big fan…” she started to introduce herself to Matty.

Meanwhile, Y/n stayed behind, deep in thoughts. Was he really trying to kiss her? Or it was a joke, a prank?

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Tagging: @jagz72 @deamus-liv @mrspeacem1nusone

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

#matty healy #matty healy fic #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy imagine #matty healy x y/n #matthew healy #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy fluff #matty healy x f!reader #unrequited love

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astarionslittlejuicebox · 6 months

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The Promise of Eternity (Part 2)

Author: @astarionslittlejuicebox

Imagine: The reader helped Astarion ascend and became his spawn. After saving the world from the Elder brain and it’s destruction, the reader and Astarion set out to take on the world together. While he promised to never forget the gifts the reader has given him, Astarion has seemed to have changed his attitude towards the reader in the last century…. After someone breaks one of Astarion’s rules, how will this affect the reader’s fate?

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: potential for minor spoilers, suggestive themes, language, mentions of death, mentions of blood, abusive relationship, mention of slavery

Word Count: 1246

Imagine Series List

Side Notes:

This imagine series takes place 200 years after the events of Baldur’s Gate 3. Everything you read in here is a story from my mind outside of the original BG3 character Astarion.

In this imagine series, Astarion is a bit more unemotionally unavailable, and this series will follow the decisions and consequences of that change. This is not canonically accepted and it is just an idea I’ve had in my head! (I do believe Astarion might truly care for the reader after Ascension, but that is open to individual interpretation.)

In this series, TAV is mildly based on my first character I played in BG3; she is a drow and I will make references to her in her background and knowledge as well. I do apologize that it is not 100% your own imagine, but the name for TAV is up to you as well as anything else that I can think of leaving to you, the reader, to decide.

I appreciate everyone who reads the imagines and this series, and I hope you enjoy the story!

TAV POV

Breakfast time was a busy time for everyone in the castle. The chefs were busy preparing a large feast for the Lord of the castle and his exquisite taste buds. For the last two hundred years, Astarion has indulged and refined his taste for mortal foods, and the ever-rotating kitchen staff struggles to keep up with his desires. This morning, the chefs had prepared a feast of danish hens, caviar, fish, eggs in various styles, and other luxuries that only the nobility could afford in Toril. As I walked around the long dark wooden table that stood proudly in the center of an exquisitely decorated dining hall, I observed those who were hustling and bustling about the dining hall. Humans, elves, tieflings, and other people of all sorts of races rushed about to ensure that the breakfast buffet on the table would match the vampire lord’s meticulous standards. The silverware was polished and then examined before it was repolished several times until the silverware was finally deemed satisfactory.

I took note of the facial expressions of the servants as they all appeared to be frantic in their preparations. I was searching for any signs of deception or discontent with their tasks as servants placed two sets of plates on the table, one at each end of the table where an intricately designed chair sat proudly. One of the chairs belonged to the vampire lord himself, and the other belonged to his most beloved. I fondly glanced over at the chair I had sat in so many times over the last two centuries. Before I could reminisce on fonder days, a familiar voice agitated my drow ears.

“This fork is not shiny enough for the Master!” The voice sounded like the person only spoke from their nose—an impressive talent—but the voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to the ears of those who heard it. The tiefling made her way hastily to the seat I had been staring at, with two puncture marks still lazily bleeding on her neck. Upon noticing me looking at her, she narrowed her eyes and gave me a snide look. “Look away, spawn, or I’ll tell your master that you’re bothering me.” She let out a laugh that reminded me of a pack of gnolls, but I turned my attention elsewhere as I left the room. On my way out, I almost collided into the pale elf himself, Astarion. He didn’t even spare a glance at me before I was shoved out the way and into the wall. I caught myself before smoothing out my dress and continuing my path towards my bedchambers. I could hear the ridiculous hyena laugh echo through the hallways until I had gotten several more feet away. Several of the spawn had given me sorrowful expressions as I passed, but I merely smiled at them as I took longer strides. Pity was etched onto every one of their faces, and I could not bear the weight of it on my shoulders. Besides, someone in this castle had broken a rule, and I was tasked to find whomever had done so.

Arriving at my bedchambers, I hastily opened and shut the door behind me before my handmaiden, Kristiana, greeted me. Kristiana was a spawn without a vampire master who Astarion and I had taken in under our wings one hundred fifty years ago. She was a short human female with big brown eyes, golden brown hair, and a soft smile. She was totally devoted to serving me hand and foot.

“Good morning, Mistress, was the sunrise beautiful this morning?” She asked as she walked into the large dressing room attached to the bedroom. “What are we thinking of wearing today? A nice autumn themed dress or shall we wear something more comfortable today?” I slipped off my gown and handed it to her through the door. Before I walked towards the warm bath she had drawn me. I sunk into the heated water and my muscles relaxed into the hot water. Kristiana walked over and poured water on my hair and brushed the knots out before she proceeded to wash my hair.

“We are going to put on something more comfortable for today. After I am dressed, please take the day to rest and relax. You’ve been working so hard lately, and you deserve a break.” Kristiana’s hands paused in my hair.

“Are you sure, Mistress? You know there are still plenty of duties for me—“ I waved my hand to stop her.

“I am absolutely sure. I can handle myself. Besides, I have business in town, and I am perfectly capable of handling myself.” I gave her a smile, which she graciously returned.

“If you are sure, I shall take you up on that offer.” She then continued delicately washing my hair while I washed my body. The sweet aroma of peaches filled the air in my room as dirt and grime was washed away from my body. Once I was rinsed, I stood up and wrapped a soft towel around my body as Kristiana laid out a plain black shirt and black trousers for me, I put on a pair of black leather boots to finish my outfit then smiled at Kristiana. I sat in front of the mirror, even though I couldn’t see my reflection, as Kristiana stood behind me and ran a brush through my hair.

“Just throw my hair into my usual bun and we shall call it a day.” I saw her nod her head in the mirror before her skillful hands went to work twisting my hair into a beautiful bun. She placed small black pins into my hair to hold it in place before she pulled out two strands to frame my face. She took a step back to admire her work before she smiled at me.

“All done, Mistress, and you look as beautiful as you always do.” I gave her a small smile.

“Thank you Kristiana. You always do such a wonderful job. You are dismissed until tomorrow.” Kristiana gave a timid bow before she walked out of my bedchambers. I took a moment to sit in the complete silence of the empty room and thought about how my morning had started. My eyes watered with the familiar sting of tears as I recalled the small glimmer of how things used to be with Astarion, but the moment quickly dissipated the moment she walked into the room.

I sighed heavily as I looked out the window, reminiscing on the days when Astarion and I were on the same page, wanting the same things, and speaking the same language. You will be my most beloved spawn, my right hand, my dark consort. I felt a single tear escape from my eye as his honeyed words rang through my head once again. Together you and I will be the most powerful people in the world. A few more tears slid down my face and collected onto my trousers. I had foolishly thought my little star had meant those words he had spoken, and I believe he truly did at one point in time. I wiped the tears that escaped my eyes before I straightened my posture. Regardless of how I thought he felt, he did entrust me with the task of finding whoever had stolen his blood. I grabbed my cloak and left my bedchambers as I set out to head towards my next destination: the library of Baldur’s Gate.

#astarion imagine #astarion x reader #baldursgate3 #baldursgate3imagine #ascended astarion #imagine #the promise of eternity

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satoruzlove · 1 year

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hello again! first and foremost, thank you for doing my request 100000x more than what i imagined 🙇🏻‍♀️🫶 AND HERE I AM AGAIN lol i can't help but to imagine many scenarios with Haikyuu boys (courtesy of TikTok)

can i possibly request a scenario of atsumu (and whoever haikyuu boy you could imagine that certainly loves socializing) based on the tiktok trend where the boys are having a night out and they give their s/o food/money/or just something that makes their girl happy just to get their permission & telling them not to call/text/bother/find him for the whole night.

for better reference; https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8jbW2rg/

- 🫧

my beloved bubble anon, FORGIVE ME FOR TAKING A GAJILLION YEARS WITH THIS. i was trying so hard to imagine writing it the right way around but i couldn’t stop myself from doing it the other way around!!!😭😭 i hope you don’t mind .

DONT TEXT ME, DONT CALL ME .

[ atsumu miya , rintarou suna ]

- one [1] ass slap in tsumu’s,touchiness, atsumu healing my daddy issues one ‘sweetheart’ at a time, rintaro almost strips, ALMOST. very soft angst , rin with an attitude lol-

a. miya !

tonight is your little reunion between your highschool friendgroup. fun, right?

no.

well, when you get there it will be but before you do wont. the reason for this is that your man child boyfriend has a habit of following you everywhere- it was actually the only reason he wanted to know everyone you spend time with. so he can always tag along and be with you 24/7, 365. you love him for it and it’s very endearing how he craves your presence but you couldn’t help but want a little alone time with some people that you’ve made memories with.

your group has been planning this about a month in advance, which gave you a month to decide how you wanted to go about keeping tsumu away. you thought about asking his friends to take him out, sending him to run errands but they all made you feel like you were committing a crime and trying to make sure atsumu stays in the dark about it.

discouraged, you had sat down to wallow in your own stupidity and opened your phone. scrolling through tiktok, you had found a solution to all your problems. a little video , no longer than 20 seconds, was gonna secure your fun night out with friends. said video showed a guy giving his girlfriend food in exchange for her not to call, text, email or even think about him. you reckoned that it would work on your blond lover too.

now you practically skip down the stairs barely able to see your feet because of the sheer amount of food in your hands. you even asked samu to make atsumu’s favorite rice balls and picked them up on your way back from work- safely hiding them in your bag. atsumu finally comes into sight when you reach the kitchen. he’s leaned up against the counter, hair messy and his honey eyes focused on the screen of his phone. he only looks up when you nearly trip- and his eyes widen.

“babe, what the hell-?” he tries, but you simply saunter over to the counter and look him dead in his eyes. first, you put everything down infront of you. “i’m going out with my high school friends and- before you ask i still love you- but i wanna go alone,so” atsumu’s eyes shoot up at the uncharacteristic seriousness in your voice, but he allows you to continue. you put down a bag of mcdonald’s, his favorite order with an extra large fry just how he likes, “ do not text me,” you take a bag of kfc , mainly wings that are extra hot because you know he loves to wash it down with coke,” do not call me,” as you put things down, you can see atsumu’s eyebrows drop and a pout grow on his pretty pink lips. finally you present the rice balls that samu made, and a coke, “ don’t email me, or smoke signal me, or anything. okay?” you finally finish, look up at him hopefully.

his lip is jutted out as he glances down at the items you used to bribe him and back to yours. you nearly start tapping your foot impatiently. atsumu leans down so for once, you two are eye to eye level. “ are ya sure you still love me?” he asks you softly. you think for a moment that he’s kidding, but the pause and loud swallow you hear give him away.immediately, you realise that you’ve screwed up. before you can answer, your boyfriend speaks again. “if you didn’t want me to come you could’a asked me to just.. stay here. i would have. ya didn’t have to go and spend all that time bribing me like i’m a mafia boss or somethin’” atsumu sighs, obviously disheartened and now walking away from you. you go to hold his bicep to stop him, but he easily moves out the way without making it look obvious.

you’re feeling really bad now, the dull look in his eyes eating into your tummy. “ i do still love you, tsum, don’t be dumb. i just,” you paused when he looks at you with a raised brow. he looks like he really couldn’t care less about your excuses right now. “i actually don’t have an excuse, i’m just being dumb,” your voice was small, timid from hoping that your boyfriend isn’t too upset. the last thing on your mind is the buzzing phone in your pocket but it’s the first in atsumu’s.

he turns again, getting a glass of water. “ answer it, go. have fun. just text me if you get drunk off your ass and i’ll come get ya, if ya aren’t sleeping at one of your friends’ places.” atsumu instructed you. you bite your lip in thought.quietly , you go up behind him. he pretends to not notice your presence, the warmth of your skin hovering over his clothed back. his eyes stay trained on his very important glass of water. your arms wrap around him gently at first but when you feel no protest, you get comfortable. he tuts, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. “ you’re gonna be late, yn. go.” and you nearly cry at him using your first name- but you soon realise that if he did what you had done, you’d be doing a lot worse than calling him a first name.

you inhale. deep, calming, hopeful. “ i’m not going,” you mumbled into his covered flesh. he fights a smile, affection creeping onto his skin. “ why? you seemed pretty interested in it a minute ago? i reckon you should go have fun with your little friends. god knows why ya wanna be here, with me, who you wanted to avoid all night.” as he talks, his tone is more playful , more pouty. you rub a thumb over his tummy, speaking into his back and causing vibrations that seem to warm his soul. “because i realise that i like you more than them and i screwed up,” you say. he nods curtly, eyes shiny with unshed tears that are now going away. “ good. i’m glad you know that.” he says.

your newly free arms are folded as you do your classic awkward smile- waiting for his verdict. “go change. we’re watching mulan.” atsumu tells you. before you walk away, you go closer to him.

“i’m sorry,” you say, tenderly putting a hand on his shoulder. “ i should’ve just asked you like a normal person. i wont do that again, promise.” you know you’re in the clear, his eyes soft and his own hands running up from your hips to your cheeks to hold them. he plants a kiss on your lips, affectionately holding your face until your cheeks squish slightly. “it was funny , kinda,” he mumbles. you huff air out your nose, shaking your head. “barely. i almost made you cry,” you reply. he shrugs. “‘s okay, sweetheart. i forgive ya. i wont crucify my baby just ‘cause ya don’t know how to communicate.” and you laugh at that. he releases your gorgeous face, placing a little slap on your ass. “ go on, get comfy. you got a whooole night of apology cuddles ta give me, lover.”

r. suna !

suna rintaro is apathetic, painfully apathetic.

everyone knows. it’s his resting bitch face, the monotone voice and hooded eyes that make people think that he doesn’t care. for others, it’s true, he doesn’t. when it comes to a news anchor or someone interviewing him he wouldn’t give them any time of his day if he wasn’t forced. he isnt the type to talk without purpose- and until you that purpose was only to tease people, communicate, or pass a sarcastic comment every once and a while.

but to you? suna rintaro was not himself , or what people have ideally plastered together of him in their heads. suna rintaro became rinnie, or rin. the rin who would hold your hands in his when it was cold or rub his cheek against you for fun, rin that kissed your nose and kissed your shoulders after you showered. rin who would lip sync any song he heard in the car to you.

rintarou became a completely different person around you; his walls of steel melting to a puddle and letting you pass. his heart became only for you. something that also changed was how tolerant he became to being around someone, that someone being you. he found himself wanting to be around you always, opting to come with you everywhere and always touching you in some way. no matter how much you writhed or attempted to sway his clinginess it never seemed to ebb away.

that is how you were put into this situation. standing across from him as he lain on your bed- all his favorite food, a new hoodie , and a $100 bill on top of it. he stared at you in absolute disbelief. “ .. so the reason i got you this is because i wanna go to the spa, and no. you cannot come.” you explain to him, tone firm but your heart nearly falling into your ass when he sat up with a bored look on his face. “ are you like,” he starts, picking up the gifts like they were toxic waste- only with two fingers, “ bribing me right now?” he asked. you pondered for a moment, “ basically. i am , yeah.” you reply. he looks up at you, green irises boring into yours as he tries to telepathically say that you’re kidding.

he sighs when he realises that you arent. he gets up, his t shirt draping down his large figure as he collects all the stuff and places it in your arms. “ don’t want it, and let me go shower,” he mumbles, walking past you. you drop the items back onto your shared bed, following him like a lost puppy. the sound of water wafts to your ears as you reach the bathroom, rin now shirtless in front of you. you look at him, confused.

“ showering.. for?” you ponder out loud. he blows air from his nose, pulling his sweat pants down and adjusting the water. your boyfriend, only in boxers, turns to you. “ so we can go to the spa, you silly thing.” he teases , hand coming up to pinch your cheek lovingly. you scoff. “ i just said that you can’t come, rintaro.” and he hisses in faux pain.“full first name? ouch.” your boyfriend jests. before he can hop into the shower, his hands hook around his boxers and-

“rintaro.” you call him sternly and he laughs wholeheartedly. running a hand through his brown hair he’s now inches away from you. “you did say that i can’t come, but you’re wrong. i’m literally getting ready to right now,” he says casually. you poke at his built chest, eyes flitting up beautifully to meet his own. “rintaro i said no, just stay here, you don’t even like the spa,” you were whining now, and his heart squeezed ever so slightly at your childish tone.

“true, i don’ like the spa, but i like you.” he smiles , hands rubbing your shoulders. he places a kiss on your nose, directing you towards the bathroom door. “so, before i get naked infront of you and we both end up staying here, go away.” and before you could protest - he was gone.

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raayllum · 9 months

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this sequence lives in my head rent free

AAAAAAAAAA

why does the shot of callum's deep breathing linger for so long? why does rayla look so troubled? callum just did an incredible spell, and seemingly solved all their problems, so why is it all so unsettling?

specifically

this shot

ik this can't just be me. we the viewers are made to notice this scene

i think

help

So there's a few things, I think:

Thus far in show, outside of Light Spell (which is physical) and Ghosting spell (which is emotional / metaphysical) there's been very few instances of like, Primal magic being dangerous/horrific. (Viren's killing of the guards when Aaravos is channelling it through him notwithstanding in 2x09, but that's also easy to get wires crossed on because it's Aaravos, y'know?). So Callum having primal magic send him to his knees and giving him a hard limit is new, particularly for him. (It is worth noting, of course, that primal magic - as far as we know - doesn't leave any longterm harm or in-body corruption the way dark magic does, though, which is arguably the biggest thing.)

The second is that it harkens back to Callum's primal stone - which he had to destroy - and the reflection motif with the mirror that was ongoing in early S4 for him in particular (which TDP tends to have characters have a reflection like that when they're making decisions or not liking what they're seeing, which we'll get to in a second). But like, the Primal Stone foreshadowing continues, my beloved, and it's nothing good.

Jack De Sena has also said that when voicing Callum (particularly S2 onwards) he pays a lot of attention to how and where Callum's breaths are placed while he talks or does stuff. (This is why I loved Callum's sharp inhales and shaky exhales whenever he was angsting over Rayla in early S4, and that his crying when he thinks he's lost her sounds far more like a panic attack than like, sobbing.) And in S5, Callum has steady breathing basically the whole way through... until this scene when he's taken on too much (not too little) and is struggling for a decent chunk to catch his breath. And also why when Callum starts panicking in 5x08 over Finnegrin threatening Rayla ("Just let her go") you hear it in his breathing first and foremost.

But that's all like, little technical stuff. What I think 5x07 does so well is set up everything that's going to come crashing down in a lot of ways in 5x08, specifically in Callum's steadiness (of identity) and specifically his confidence. When 5x07 opens up, he's getting terse with Nyx for dismissing his skills and prowess as a mage and his position as High Mage, and in his zealousness to prove it, he sends poor Sneezles into the water... because of his pride and the fact he wants that recognition (whereas Rayla, who was also diminished as a "junior assassin" doesn't say a word about it, because pride isn't on of her faults). But then, when Finnegrin starts to catch up with them, Callum remains optimistic that he'll be the one who makes a positive difference (nor is he necessarily wrong):

And Callum's burst of speed combined with Rayla's idea to hide ("He can't hurt us if he can't see us") seems to work. Until it doesn't, and his attitude starts to change because well, the stakes have changed.

And then we get what's probably one of my favourite lines in the season / favourite bits of foreshadowing.

You put them in irons. You put them in chains.

S: I don't get it. What happened? Rayla: He took their wind away.

This was a far more taxing, difficult spell to pull off, and one that took a lot out of Callum (not unlike how Viren and Claudia's uses of dark magic have made them collapse) so it's unsettling to see similar physical behaviours here as a consequence. And it's worth noting that after this scene, Callum doesn't come up with any other ideas. This was 2/2, he's done. And I think it really elevates the impending sense of desperation and fear (that is of course going to be cranked up next episode) as well as the comparative limits of primal magic in contrast to dark magic. Magic can't fix everything, and it's this choice (taking the winds out of the sails) that signals to Finnegrin next episode that Callum is a mage, and sets up all of the conflict that comes from it.

A primal spell that leads to a dark magic consequence (in more ways than one).

Callum starts out as optimistic and proud at the beginning of 5x07. The episode literally whittles him down as it goes on. In 5x08, he starts off okay but battered, but still confident in his worldview ("See? As long as we protect each other, as long as we love each other, you can never control us"). By the end of 5x08 that's all changed, because he's had to accept that it was too simplistic, that it wasn't true, that

His loved ones (specifically Rayla) were/are the key to controlling him, even when Finnegrin wasn't the one holding his chains anymore ("That deal is no longer on the table"). He couldn't control everything, but he could control his responses, and he made his choice. And it's not a reality he likes, but it's the one lives in and the one he chose to live in, and he had to accept it. No matter how bitter or dark.

#tdp callum #s5 #5x07 #callum #arc 2 #thanks for asking #mini meta #m4rs-ex3 #analysis series #tdp meta #the dragon prince #tdp #i can't tell if i expressed what i wanted but #yeah #hope this makes sense #requests #finnegrin said 'you're a slave to your friends your loyalties your pride' and he said it For Me

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years

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Hi, I was wondering if would you be able to do something where the reader is with Morpheus when he tells Nada he still loves her? Only if you’re comfortable with writing about Nada or just angst in general ofc

Only you can set alight the fire in me

pairing: Morpheus x reader

warnings: allusion to smut, angst

summary: Reader is the half human, half immortal (take your pick - goddess, angel, witch, etc.) soulmate of Morpheus. When they come across Nada in hell, Morpheus makes a confession that the Reader simply doesn't like, to say the least.

Main Library

When I found out that he came back, I was elated.

It had been nearly a century since I last saw my beloved Morpheus, who suffered captivity in the wretched hands of Roderick Burgess. I tried everything in my power to free him, but even I cannot stray from the rules of magic.

I was able to communicate with him several times, and each time I had strained my power completely, to the point where he discouraged me from attempting to do so.

I knew that I just had to wait. Somehow, someday, my love would come back to me.

And he did.

He came back different, broken. But in my arms, he was still the same. I could sense a rage had developed within him - against his captors, from finding out that most of his subjects had left, from losing Jessamy.

From being away from me. I could also see that he tried to temper it down, for my sake, simply being content with basking in the glow of our reunion.

"My love," he whispered, voice breaking. We held each other for the longest time, Lucienne having excused herself much earlier to give us some space. Whispering sweet nothings, and promises of devotion repressed through the years. Sitting there in his throne room, almost wrapped in each other's skin, I never wanted to let him go.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry," he breathed against my skin, nose nuzzled in my neck.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. They did this to you."

"But all of that caused you pain. You have no idea how," he runs his fingers down my arm, "badly," his hand now gently moving up my knees to my thighs, "... I needed you."

"Morpheus," I whispered, voice getting caught in my throat, "welcome back."

His lips crash to mine, gentle yet demanding, and all else was forgotten.

--------

Of course, there was much work to be done. My love had been robbed of his tools during his time in captivity.

We ventured off to London to retrieve his sand from Johanna Constantine, whom I've grown quite fond of, due to her tireless wit and devil-may-care attitude. I made a note to catch up with her another time.

And now, where else would we be but in the cold, depths of hell -myself, Morpheus, and his new raven Matthew, determined to take back his helm from a demon. Being here feels excruciating, as if hell is pricking through my damn skin. The ceaseless tortured screams of the damned don't do much to help, either.

Morpheus firmly holds my hand, as we follow Squatterbloat through each cursed area of hell. I was distrustful of the demon immediately, knowing that their kind was prone to acts of deceipt and malevolence, no matter how mild-mannered they may show themselves to be in the moment.

We start to climb the cells of the damned, a sprawling block of dreary towers covered by a sky of smouldering fumes. We pass cell after cell, and I try to avert my eyes from every tormented soul, as I don't think I can bear it.

"Take heart, my love," Morpheus squeezes my hand, sensing my discomfort, "We'll be out of here soon."

"I know," I try to focus on him, and nothing else, "Let's get your helm, and get out of this hellhole."

"I am grateful that you came with me. You give me all the strength that I need." He lifts my hand, and leaves a loving kiss.

"I would go anywhere with you, my love."

"Aww, you guys are so cute." Matthew intervenes, "It almost made me forget that we are literally in hell. Almost."

"Well, I nearly forgot that you were flapping about with us, Matthew. Almost." I turn to him playfully.

"Ha-ha," he responds dryly, "Leave it to you two to get all loved-up in hell, of all places."

Matthew and I had gotten into a routine of friendly banter, ever since Lucienne assigned him to be Morpheus' new raven. I appreciate the reprieve that it offers in this situation.

"Just walk on, you two," Morpheus says, feigning disinterest, but I could tell he was amused.

We walk on, and I dread the view that surrounds us, but I dread coming face-to-face with Lucifer even more.

I shuffle closer behind Morpheus, when a strained voice echoes from inside a cell.

"Kai-ckul?" A woman breathes heavily, peering through the jarred bars of her entrapment. "Dream Lord?"

Morpheus halts. He recognizes her voice.

"It is you." Her eyes well up in tears. I can't even imagine what she is going through.

"I greet you, Nada." Morpheus responds, his grip loosening on my hand.

So this is Nada. Morpheus had once revealed to me all of his past lovers. He said that he didn't want to hide anything from me, he wanted me to know what exactly being with him entails. All the good and the bad that came with it.

"But now, there is only you. There will only ever be you, my love. If you'll have me," I remember that he had said to me then, eyes ablaze in passion.

I stay silent as they speak, even when Morpheus drops my hand entirely.

Then I hear her ask, "Do you not still love me?"

I feel myself tense at her question, and Matthew and I exchange a knowing look.

A moment passes, and I assume that he is simply choosing the right words to reject her, while still being considerate.

Until he responds, "It has been 10,000 years, Nada. Yes, I still love you."

Her face lights up in realization, and I try to steady myself, disappointed at what I just heard.

"But I have not yet forgiven you." he turns away from her, and starts walking.

"Come, my love. Come, Matthew." he calls out to us, gazing straight ahead.

"You," Nada's eyes find mine, "are with him?"

"Yes," I answer weakly. I don't wish my words to bring her any further pain.

"He loves me," she grips the bars of her cell, as if wanting to break them off, "He said so himself. One day, he will forgive me and we will be together once more."

"I'm sorry," I don't know what else to say, feeling empty inside from hearing Morpheus' confession.

I walk faster to catch up with Morpheus, with Matthew promptly following behind.

Morpheus reaches for my hand, but I pretend that I don't notice and say, "Let's go. I've just decided that I really hate this damn place." I walk past him.

"That's rough," Matthew quips beside me.

"Tell me about it."

--------

We succeeded, as I believed we would.

Triumphant, and helm in hand, Morpheus, Matthew and I made our way back into the Dreaming.

I had been so afraid for my love when he engaged the Ruler of Hell in combat, that I nearly forgot the exchange that he had with his former lover.

Nearly.

Upon returning, Lucienne greets us with a relieved smile. However, she looks as if she's thrown off by my expression.

"Is something wrong?" she asks me in concern.

Everyone looks at me expectedly, but I'm not really in the mood to share so I just shrug, "Not at all, I'm fine. I'll just head to my library."

Morpheus tries to catch my eye, but I am already heading off. He calls out to me, "I'll be with you shortly, my love."

I enter my library and feel a sense of calm wash over me. Morpheus had constructed this library just for me, and it contains only the books that I love, as well as the ones that I have yet to read but am bound to love afterward.

This room is but a single proof of his efforts to win me over, and that he did, but now I can't help but wonder if I am truly special, or if he had achieved similar feats for his past lovers too. Perhaps he had, and normally I would be fine with that, but then again, he said that he loves her. Does he still love all of them? If he does, then his love will never be just for me.

The door flies open, and he strides in, unbothered and unaware of my thoughts.

He sits next to me on this plush, dark gray loveseat, but I don't look at him.

"Something's wrong?" he asks slowly, "Something's bothering you, my love. Tell me."

"You love her."

"What?"

"You still love her. Nada." I turn to him so he fully see the extent of my emotions. Maybe I am overthinking things, but his declaration of love didn't sit well with me.

"I..." he seems at a loss, choosing his next words carefully, "I will always have a love for her, yes. But it's different with you, of course."

"How so?"

"What do you mean? You know how important you are to me. You are everything." he reaches for my hands, eyes imploring me to understand.

"Morpheus," I pull away, and pace the room, "what if I had encountered any of my exes - Aeneas, Gabriel..."

"Don't mention those names in front of me," he cuts me off, his voice darkening.

"What if I meet them, and tell them I still love them?" I press on, as he looks up at me, brows furrowed, "How would you feel then?"

"You wouldn't dare do that, my love," he stands, adding the term of endearment in a slightly menacing tone, far from the usual doting one.

"That's how I feel!" I raise my arms in exasperation, "I mean, do you still love all of them? Your past lovers?"

"It's not the same. I am an Endless. It's almost impossible for me to simply get rid of old ties. My love runs deep for whomever I devote myself to. With Nada, she's an extraordinary woman... but she's nothing compared to you."

I find it hard to wrap my head around it, and take a few deep breaths. If he thinks that flattery, and a couple of sweet lines will completely diffuse the situation, he is sorely mistaken.

"I'm sorry," he reaches out to me, and I let him wrap his arms around me tightly, "I'm sorry I said that, and that it upset you. I do have a kind of love for all my former lovers, but all that pales in comparison to my love for you."

"I don't know," I mutter against his chest, "what to think."

"Then don't." He leans down, and kisses me. I try to stay angry, but he kisses me harder, moaning low and deep against my lips, and I lose myself in him.

His hands run down my sides, settling on my waist, pushing my back down onto the loveseat.

He proceeds to kiss my neck, biting a trail along the way.

"No one else can kiss you like this," he rests his forehead against mine, and runs his fingers down my chest, "No one else can touch you like I do. You're mine."

I wrap my fingers around his wrist, halting his movements, "And you're mine. Don't ever tell a former lover that you love them ever again. Not like that. I understand the extent of your compassion for each one of them, but you wouldn't want me to do the same to mine."

He gazes at me for the longest time, before a soft smile emerges on his lips, "Understood. And I'm yours."

He kisses me again, and again, and again.

Endlessly.

The end.

first oneshot/request done! It's not as angsty as I intended but hopefully it's got enough 😂

Yes, I do take requests, for Morpheus, Corinthian, and potentially other characters in other fandoms too. Drop me a message!

And, Ineffable's next chapter will be out in a couple of days. Corinthian will be making an appearance - I simply couldn't resist.

#morpheus imagine #morpheus x reader #dream imagine #dream x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #morpheus x y/n #morpheus oneshot #dream oneshot #dream of the endless oneshot #the sandman imagine #dream of the endless #tom sturridge #endless oneshots #morpheus

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saintmeghanmarkle · 29 days

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to be a Zombie carcass crawling after Catherine forever by u/ElectricalAd9212

to be a Zombie carcass crawling after Catherine forever Central to the psychosis of Markle was her fantasy of being 'besties' with The Princess of Wales.When Catherine's attitude was basically, OK, no, I have three children to raise, a husband to support, a Monarchy to think of, a nation and Commonwealth to serve, a depressed brother to love, and a Grandmother-in-law Queen to spend time with, Markle became a psychopath obsessed with hatred.Its essentially the same dynamic as a mean girl in school who, when an elegant and popular and kind and beautiful girl refused to bow down to her, went all out to whisper nasty things to harm her.That is basically Markle's whole story.It can be seen as a multi-year psychopathic campaign by a stalker and there's never been anything like it before, involving misinformation, millions spent on PR, an entire Netflix show, podcasts, book, hoaxes, and lies and slander, all to harm Catherine, because she refused to pander to this deranged psychopath.Now, we're seeing PR planted by the lunatic along the lines of 'its such a shame Meghan and Catherine couldn't be friends, they could have done so much as besties and support each other', like the thing in People magazine the other day.So she's sussed that open annihilation psychopathy won't work, its now soft passive-aggressive regret to associate herself with the Princess of Wales.This will be the tone of everything now. Imagine Markle fantasising about an interview she gives. She writes the piece for the journalist.'There is a wistful, sad look in the Duchess of Sussex's eyes when she speaks. She looks into the distance, towards the shimmering light of the late afternoon sun and sighs. I notice a change in her voice. She looks down and says, 'Its so sad. Things got in the way between us from the start. On both sides. Forces prevented her from reaching out to me as I reached out to her. If anything, I was to blame for not giving her the space to free herself from those forces. I should have been more patient. I truly believe that to have an African American Duchess as the closest friend and adviser to the future Queen could have brought harmony to the world. I do regret the forces that were against us. And I feel so sad for her illness. When I heard, I wish I could have been there to hold her hand. But I understand she can't break the mould and reach out to me. So I move on.' She sits in silence and then says, 'but I'm a survivor. I'm a Duchess. I am royalty. And my TV shows, and my line of air fresheners and sandals and candles proves that.'Here is the thing.The only way she can have anything is by being soft.So its always going to be vibes like that.Always associating herself by distance with Catherine, who recent moments have shown to be the most famous, fascinating and beloved woman in the world.Markle thought that her ascent would be by poisonous whispers and abuse and vicious incitement and frenzy against Catherine. She expected the whole world, especially America to join in. Look at how her social media mobs operate. Like a mob pulling the hair and kicking the nice girl who offended the self appointed mean girl queen of school.Instead she has destroyed herself, and now plays humble and soft to still try and be associated with her obliquely.But it is what it is. All it shows is that Markle's plan now for the rest of her days is to be a psychopath stalker by stealth, to be a Zombie carcass crawling on the ground trying to follow Catherine everywhere, to get as many coins as she can from whichever witless people in media or grifter philanthropy are fooled by this psycho. post link: https://ift.tt/OHP5Xfo author: ElectricalAd9212 submitted: April 12, 2024 at 02:41PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

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yankpop · 1 year

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Yandere Yoongi (BTS) - You fight him

Summary: You decide to pick a fight with your boyfriend and that was a mistake you don't ever want to repeat.

DISCLAIMER: This is a FICTION work only made for entertainment purposes so please don’t take any of this seriously. I do not support or encourage any type of abusive behaviour. Please, be 18+ to read this. Make sure to read the trigger warnings before you get started, but almost everything is yandere and includes toxic behaviours.

All copyrights belong to @yankpop (aka me) so do not post/translate my works on any other platforms without my consent/knowledge.

Check more: Masterlist.

Female reader

WARNINGS: Toxic; abusive relation; violence (Yoongi grabs reader).

AN: Hope you guys enjoy this 💖

“Don’t”

You abruptly freeze on the spot, your hand still holding the doorknob. Mentally, you curse at his unfortunate timing, he was supposed to be in his home studio working with his headphones on, at least that’s what you had thought.

“I... I was just going for a walk, it's a healthy activity, you know.” you mumble, not daring to look behind as Yoongi gets closer. After a fast moment, his body pressed against yours while his hands circle your waist, tightly securing you in his hold. “For a walk? So, you’re not going to meet up with that friend of yours, no?”

Your eyes widened with shock, you had been so careful to always delete the messages, yet he still managed to find out. You can’t stop the wave of annoyance that fills you at the thought of Yoongi snooping through your phone, how come he always finds out your passwords even after you changing it constantly?

You push his hands off you and turn around “I’ve told you to stop doing it! Stop going through my phone!” you hiss. He crosses his arms, an indecipherable expression decorating his delicate face, eyebrows slightly elevating at your remark.

“Excuse me, your phone? Was it bought with your money?” you open your mouth, yet no sassy response comes through your mind. Technically, he was right, but it was still your phone, right?

Yoongi smirks at the lack of reply, cockiness sparkling in his dark eyes. “Yeah, I didn't think so.” His reaction makes your blood boil. You know it’s better to ignore him, but his attitude makes you feel like a teenager all over again, he was acting like he was your dad or your owner. You were getting so tired of always abiding by what he says.

“You know what? If the phone was bought with your beloved money, then keep it to yourself,” you practically spit the words as your hands dig into your purse, encountering your phone. You pull it out and quickly move to the counter next to the door, placing the device there with a slam, and walk back towards the door “Keep your precious phone and meanwhile I’m going to meet my friend and-”

A small squeal leaves your lips as Yoongi’s hand grabs your forearm, the pressure from his hold forcing you to stumble back against him, keeping you away from the door. His lips reach for your ear, his low voice as he softly whispers “Then you might as well leave your purse, your car keys, your shoes,” shock and embarrassment fill you at his remark. Yoongi’s voice is filled with venom as he continues. “And also your clothes.”

What?

You try to turn around to face him, trying to push his strong hold off you. His grip on you barely moves but you're able to turn your body. Once you do, you are met with the stone-cold face of your boyfriend, his serious eyes proving you he wasn’t joking around.

Suddenly, you feel cold, regretting pushing him this far, Yoongi always had a volatile temper yet he never acted like this. He wouldn’t actually make you go outside fully naked, right?

Yoongi lets out a small impatient click with his lips. “Come on, take them off. Then feel free to go see her friends. I'm sure they'll be glad to see you.” You try to ignore his words, but his fingers grab your coat and try to pull it off your body.

"No! No, please, I'm sorry!” you helplessly beg, your hands trying to push him away from your clothes. Humiliation burns through you, the little dignity was slowly disappearing “I won’t do it again, I promise!”

Your words cause Yoongi to halt his actions, slowly turning his head towards you. “You promise? And you’re going to do what I say?” you gently nod, trying to seem as sincere as possible. A cold smile appears on his face, his hands releasing your clothes, instead wrapping themselves around your body, pushing it into a tight hug as you lifelessly give in. “That’s my good girl.”

You’re not sure if Yoongi is still going to call you that after you escape him, but that’s a risk you’re now willing to take.

Tags:

@mwitsmejk

#yandere bts #bts yandere #yandere drabble #yandere kpop #@yankpop #yandere scenario #yandere x reader #yandere suga #yandere yoongi #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere suga x reader

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smolvenger · 10 months

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Four (Loki x fem! Reader, A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him. When the time comes to fulfill your end of the bargain, you are introduced to a world full of more magic and danger than you could possibly imagine...

Content Warnings: LOTS OF ANGST AT THE BEGINNING! Cheating (not Loki, but...* takes a long sip of a fun little drink with a straw*...dealing with Will Ransome's canon actions and portraying them as bad so Will fans and Lusty Vicarettes you have been warned). Y/N going absolutely feral because I support women's wrongs. Hurt/Comfort Elements Period Typical Attitudes. Mentions of sex and religion and drinking. Typical and fixable grammar mistakes.

Chapter Summary: You confront Will about his infidelity.

Chapter Word Count: 6K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr (special shout out for a suggestion for this chapter that worked well!)

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three

There was silence. Pure silence. Will’s jaw unhinged and his mouth opened, but he did not say a word. The last word rang in the air with the heaviness of a bullet being fired.

Whore-Whore-Whore.

You glared at him in his beautiful blue eyes. Feeling everything at once looking at him- hatred and adoration, fury and grief and love.

His eyes glared back. You had done it. You had called Cora a whore. You knew he wouldn’t stand it. You could see him tense up, ready to chastise you for what you did. To stand up for her. You could see it in him, see the words forming. Then his jaw closed. Then he stopped. There was hesitation. You knew he would rush to her defense. And you were ready for a fight. To scold you for what you said- the ugly names you just called his mistress, his real beloved.

But instead, no, what he asked was this in a quiet, calm tone.

“Y/N, why did you call her that?”

A wave of emotion washed over you. You couldn’t take him anymore- playing ignorant. He should know bloody well why you called her that.

Leaning over, in a split second, you raised your hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. So hard, you let out a small grunt as you did. It stung from the swift impact of your hand across his cheek. You could feel the tears welling up already in your eyes as you retreated your hand. He nursed the pink spot on the cheek you once kissed with a hand you once loved to hole.

“Do not lie to me- you know exactly what I mean. I should have done that at the wedding. You- are…you’re having an affair with her Will. Don’t deny it- I saw the love letters! I saw you kiss her!”

You were shaking hard. This was too horrible to be real. This had to be a nightmare. You should have seen the inside of his house, his desk, his tall bookshelves on your wedding day when you were to be brought there as Mrs. Ransome. Not as a fiancée betrayed for another like you were just a toy abandoned by a bored child. The tears began to make their trails down your face.

“The bishop would counsel us, I remember. He’d tell us we were already considered married…and You dare to break a sacred vow you made before your own God?” you accused.

He began to blink rapidly. His voice remained low.

“I was so…tormented about it…”

“You think you’re the tormented one?!!” you cried.

He held his hands up and continued.

“Cora has endured more than any woman ever should…the things her husband did to her…he’d strangle her, beat her. I opened up a bit of her collar and saw…saw a bruise, there on her skin. I wanted to…to…comfort her.”

“You could comfort her in ways that don’t involve fucking her in the forest!” you argued, your voice raising.

He kept going on, his voice still quiet.

“She…she…she and I…we are…we are like two bits of one soul…”

“So, which is more important, Will- your cock or my dignity?!” you asked furiously.

He looked up at you. You saw a small flinch from the obscene word, but he remained still. There was another heavy pause.

“Of course, you are more important…” he answered. “Please have pity on Cora. She has…been through much. She focuses on science, not emotions. She told me…She thinks love is a weakness and it’s not!”

“Her love for you?! Her love for you?!” you cried.

You stood up, gripping the table.

“You promised to love me. You said you could be a devoted fiancée, a devoted husband…So the time we spent together was nothing?! The times you danced with me-they were for nothing? My every visit to church and every minute I held my tongue and made myself perfect to become your wife was for nothing!? Your gifts-your kisses and promises and declarations-nothing? What of me! Did you forget- you told me every day you loved me! And I love you, Will! So- is that a weakness? Am I boring?! Am I nothing? Am I nothing to you?! Why is she important and not I? Why is it about her and not I? I’ve known you for years and you now declare to love for a woman you’ve known for four months?! Do you even hear yourself, Will!?”

He frowned and lowered his eyes to the table.

“It wasn’t for nothing, Y/N. I love you…”

You interrupted him.

“Will- you say you love me; you say I am important; you say all of this- but your actions are telling a different story!”

Your voice lowered. You hugged yourself.

“Did you never…. try and resist her? Fight for me? At least try? And did you not think…think to consider…that I’d be hurt?”

This time, he began to tear up a little. But his face remained stoic. He looked off to the side.

“You were dying…. I thought I would lose you forever…and that night, you told me to dance with her.”

Then, suddenly, was a voice in your head. A familiar lilting voice. Too familiar, too like Will’s. But it wasn’t him.

“It’s about time you confronted him, darling.”

You turned around. Was Loki there? Appearing out of the shadows to witness this spectacle? Yet he didn’t appear. Dear God, were you mad?

“No- you’re not mad darling. It’s only your favorite god of mischief here” Loki responded in your head.

“What are you doing?” you thought back.

“Just watching….your thoughts are too loud. Granted, I could be sleeping. But this…this is too interesting.” Loki replied.

You snapped you back to reality, hearing the voice before you.

“You were…you were dying…you were at death’s door…” Will argued.

“But I was still alive, Will! You thought I was implying for you to fuck her?! No! Dancing is not the same as…as…as an affair! How hard is that to understand? I said to dance with her! Nothing more!” you responded.”

Your hands curled into fists. He looked back at you with sad eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Do you…realize what this means? This is more than how you have hurt me-When I marry you, you are my foundation for society. My only means of having the money to survive. You’d be the roof over my head- and for our children if we had them! I cannot scrub floors on my own after I marry you- because every penny and every check they give me will go to you! If you leave me and flee with her, I have nothing to protect me. If you took our children with you- I would never get them back because they’d be your children by law, not mine. I will be dependent on the charity of others all my life, clinging to whatever money you send back. But if you refused to give me one pound to spend it all on Cora-you could legally get away with it! Don’t you realize - this is a threat to my future?!” you cried.

His face softened and he shook his curly head.

“You know I would never do that to you, Y/N…” he replied.

“But you still betrayed me for another woman…is Cora…better than me? Prettier? Superior? What does she have that I lack?” you asked.

He was quiet. He began to blink rapidly.

“You love me…and you told her love isn’t a weakness- so is SHE your weakness?! Or rather-is your love for her your strength and am I the weak one?!” you pressed.

“I…I do love you…but with her I…I…I don’t even have any words to say…” William replied.

You felt your face scrunch up and you felt hot. Then Loki’s Voice rang in your head again.

“You should tell where he could shove his Bible, it would be funny!”

But instead, you took his Bible. You held it, feeling the soft brown cover. It was large and worn from so much use over the years. You then looked at him and the book and back at him.

“One thing disturbs me the most- Do you understand what God himself says about this, Will?! What Jesus said about it? How it’s better to pluck your eye out! It’s a commandment, Will- and you dare break it to sleep with her when you promised yourself to me!? How can you go to the pulpit- how can you represent morality in this town?! How can you look at yourself?!”

You wiped off a tear with your hand and continued.

“I loved you because you were open-minded. You weren’t some fire and brimstone Puritan, but you were kind and spoke of love…now I see you were TOO open-minded if you think this is remotely acceptable!” you cried, the Bible shaking in your grip.

This glass of wine I’m having right now is perfect for this. Maybe I should spare one for you too, hm? Loki quipped.

He eyed the book carefully, then he went up to you.

“I must tell you…I went to church right after this morning and I…I prayed. I prayed in the field too, after… I fell on my knees in the church and prayed to God…”

You felt your mouth curl into a snarl. You then lowered your eyes to the Bible. If this was hysteria, you gave into it.

“You know how I like history. And if I recall correctly-The church of England was started by Henry the Eighth-to throw out his own wife who loved him. His wife of many years. To toss her away like she was dirt for another woman. In that case, you’re a perfect vicar.”

You threw the Bible onto the floor-papers flew out. It broke. William ran over, getting onto his knees on the floor in a hurry. He began to hurriedly pick it back up, putting papers back to where they were.

“Love’s not a weakness, is it Will?!Well- it might not be, but I’m about to make you even weaker!” you snarled.

You gave him a sharp kick to the ribs, and he jumped and groaned in pain from your foot. You wished it was possible to kick his crotch. Yet he still fumbled to get the papers and the Bible.

You then knelt to be on his level, flinging your fists to him. Punching, slapping his beautiful face in a blind fury of the screams and sobs that escaped your throat. He grunted and took some of it, trying to duck what he could while gathering the book. Then he left it and turned to you. Will kept repeating your name, trying to block what hits he could, down on his knees with the floor with you, trying to calm you. It didn’t work.

You glanced at him. The reddish-blonde hair and goatee you once thought- and did think- incredibly handsome. The goatee that tickled the first time he kissed you. The hair that swept in the wind when you walked together. You yanked at his curls to pull it off. He shouted “ah!” and got your arm to stop you. Impulsively, your fingers pinched at the hair of his goatee and plucked at it- trying to rip it out. He let out a cry of pain. Then he grabbed hold of your forearms to keep from attacking him.

“Y/N-Y/N, my love- please!”

“You’re a bastard, Will Ransome! You’re a bastard! A BASTARD!” you shouted.

He finally grabbed your fists. He was so strong, he tried to pull you into an embrace but you pulled away. You felt his large hands become a grip.

“Y/N! I…I love you…I love you so much! Please, Please for-”

He never finished that sentence. You curled up your saliva and spat in his face. He flinched, then released his hand to wipe if off. You jumped up to your feet. You curled your hands into fists as you backed to the door.

“I loved you, William. I-LOVED you. I gave you everything. I was ready to be this perfect, pristine wife for you-your ministry. I was ready to give you my time, the rest of my youth, my energy, my prayers, my devotion, my virginity, my body- everything! Do you know why I made the bargain? So I could live to be with you-to make you happy. I gave you everything. But now I see the truth. …”

“Y/N…darling…I do love you…” he pleaded, still on the floor.

You got closer to the door.

“You don’t want a wife, Will. You want a woman to be a martyr for you. To suck her until she’s dry and has nothing left. All while you won’t give her a drop. No one was forcing you to be with Cora, there was no reason- and you slept with her anyway just because you were bored of me. You were bored. She made your cock hard. And you pitied her little sob story and could think of no alternative of consolation than fucking her. And you never considered, even as I was lying in bed, that I needed you there. That my last moments on Earth could be by you, being loved by you-knowing I Was loved and wanted and valued. It would have been better if I died of consumption, believing you still cared about me enough to put my needs before yours…as I did for you…”

You were crying and you could feel snot running from your nose. Your face was hot. Then you turned and looked into those beautiful blue eyes with an overwhelming fury rising in your voice.

“William, you are a disgrace to the priesthood, to morals, to ethics, to righteousness. You knew very well what your own faith says about this-and you fucked her anyway.”

You turned to open the door. Then returned to look at him as he got up, clinging his Bible and sermon papers.

“Adultery itself is unacceptable But you are more than an adulterer, Will- you’re a hypocrite!”

You slammed the door shut. Then you began running. You knew he’d run after you. You picked up the pace through the dark streets. You were crying. Your lungs burned, but you ran. You never looked at the ocean or the town. Not even a glance to see if he would chase you. You only ran past the streets, right into the forest. Where he couldn’t find you. Where you could be alone.

You heard a bit of his name calling after you, in an echo. You ran to the shadows of the trees. You hid behind a large oak, the sharp bark prickling your fingers. You heard William’s voice.

“Y/N! Y/N! Come back! Y/N! Where are you?!”

Perhaps you should have fled to someone’s house. You should wake up Stella in her bed-for she, best of everyone, would listen more than speak. She would let you cry into her blue shawls. She would hug you and tell you how it would be better. But she was asleep.

You should have ran home. Ran to cry to your parents. Or anyone in town. But you knew what they would say.

“You’re being irrational. Think of how your reputation will be tarnished should you call it off. And what are you thinking? There was no better match for a lady than William Ransome. So, what if he did something? Men are weak to temptation-it’s just the way they are. Don’t make yourself into a martyr!? You should care first for his home and self being peaceful. You must go through with the marriage! It will be a life of stability with a good, moral man. A good, moral man!”

A very good, moral man indeed, you thought.

You sank into the ground. Tears kept pouring out of you. You nestled up against the tree. Trying to savor what warmth you could. Though there was the rustling of leaves and you heard birds and owls. How peaceful it was when your heart was breaking in pieces.

“Please…I need help…I need to get out of here…I can’t face him…I can’t face anyone…I can’t marry this man. I’m trapped, I’m trapped…” you thought.

It became calm. There were crickets in the night. The sound lulled you. Your emptiness from your rage made you exhausted. Before you knew it, it all became black as you curled up in the forest. Leaving all consciousness as you curled up onto the ground by the tree.

Consciousness arrived. It was still dark in your vision. You felt strong arms holding you up against something warm- flesh like. And a voice. A familiar voice.

Had William picked you up and carried you back to town? He would. Damn him, he would. That wonderful, horrible man. You didn’t want to open your eyes to see him. You had no strength. You didn’t feel like fighting back. It was as if the crying had drained you dry. You may as well resolve yourself to your fate. Wife to an unfaithful man. You had nothing in you to fight.

Then you felt movement beneath you- something breathing beneath you. A strong smell. You felt hair bristle you. A brushing of lips- a horse.

But you heard…another voice. Another familiar, light, lilting voice. A woman’s voice.

“Poor Y/N! Thank God! Please…please take care of her! Wherever this Asgard is- take care of her!”

Stella! You realized.

“I shall, fair lady. She will be safe there, you have my honored word she shall,” the male voice holding you replied.

He didn’t talk like Will. Then you realized you did recognize it. Henry the Fifth- or Hal!

“But…why was she here? Poor thing- all alone! Do you know? Did something happen?” Stella asked.

“My lady, I do not know. But you must be glad the god of mischief himself is not here and I am. He is capable of many things. And you understand what his powers could do. Anyone who crosses with him soon regrets it.”

“I...I do…” she agreed.

“Then…then I’m off.”

“Please take care of her!”

“We all shall, dear lady.”

There was a sharp turn, and you heard the whinny of a horse. It began to run beneath you. In only a few seconds, there was a blur of light from your closed eyes. The horse kept running. You weren’t fully there yet, but you could hear things, feel things. It wasn’t time for the bargain yet, but you didn’t care. Darkness overcame you. Before you knew it, it was dark, you felt yourself brought from one pair of arms to another. There was a murmur of voices. Some of them similar. Familiar. Too familiar. An echo. A pebble dropped into the ocean where it rippled. And you were carried.

Finally, you regained enough consciousness to gather that you were in that familiar guest room. You were in Asgard, you realized. In the palace. And right near your bed was Loki. He sat in a chair. A scene you had seen before. The sun was setting there-it was beginning to fall into the purple shadows of night.

“What is it…what’s going on…” you asked.

Loki appeared.

“You ran to the forest and collapsed. You’re in Asgard, Y/N…you’re safe for now…you can process what happened. You can grieve.”

You shook your head.

“You’ll tell me that my grief is excessive…” you said.

“I will say nothing, then.”

“What a challenge for you! But…Will…he…” you began to stutter.

You began blinking. Then you curled up and let the tears fall again.

“He was….everything to me. And now he… My own fiancée. The man I was ready to marry…it’s like he became the serpent and slithered from my side to the bed of another..”

You wiped off tears with your sleeve. You realized you were put into a light nightgown.

“No wonder…Cora’s beautiful and exciting and smart and I’m ugly and boring and nothing…I’m weak compared to her…you can say it, Loki…”

He leaned forward, touching his chin and examining you.

“I will say this- You only look miserable and exhausted…and I did promise you a drink-here. I put the potion mixed with some wine. You need it far more than I right now.”

He handed you the goblet. You took a deep drink. You felt it lull you.

“Get some rest, Y/N. You haven’t slept well in days….”

“H-How…how did you know?” you asked. Taking another sip of the potion.

“Well…in short, darling, I can hear your thoughts. Ever since the bargain, they keep coming to me…”

“Why can’t I hear yours?”

“You should be able to…it’ll take some practice, but you can. But for now…you need to drink your potion and get some sleep, Y/N.”

You cupped both hands around the glass. It was a little bit of red wine, but it was mainly the potion, making the flavor sweeter than normal with some added honey inside. The star marks on your hands seemed a little sore and you rubbed it with your finger. How was it the bargain made you hear each other’s thoughts? Before you could ask, Loki settled the blankets over you. He then walked outside, closing the door with a squeak. As you nestled into the blankets, you heard voices talking in the hallway. Their echoes impossible to ignore.

“So, she’s not a new soldier for this battle? Why her? Wouldn’t the tracker instead be a little more useful?” asked one.

“Don’t be hard on her, Rob. She could be useful. But she should be careful….” Replied another.

“Oh, Jon-don’t push Y/N darling into a battle yet! She fainted in the woods just hours ago! The woman’s distraught!” you heard Loki reply.

“Distraught? What do you mean?” the voice asked.

“Walk down with me, gentlemen, and I’ll explain it in short….” Loki offered.

You heard the footsteps go down the marble hall. Then you could not distinguish any words. The potion lulled you into a deep, blissful sleep.

When you awoke, it was a nice morning. You heard birds- to think you were in a different world and birds still chirruped. Was this the next day? Very likely it was the next day by now in your world, in Midgard. But here, it was morning.

It was Sunday. It would be hard not to think of Will on Sundays.

There was a knock on the door. It was a servant bringing some breakfast. A wooden tray with poached eggs, buttered toast, fresh fruit, and plump sausage links.

“Could I have coffee?” you asked.

The servant blinked.

“What is that?” she asked.

Loki’s voice rang in your head with a sigh.

“Oh, allow me.”

With a whiff of green magic, a blue, porcelain cup with the rich drink appeared on the tray. It warmed your hands as you held it, like a small hug in a cup.

After scarfing it all down, another brought you some clothes. They would be long, flowy robes the blue of a robin’s egg secured with a bronze belt. They were pretty, you had to admit. But you only sat in your room on the chair. Staring out the window. Thinking. Ruminating. Playing the scene that happened last night. Then playing through every memory you had of Will.

There was the time in spring when you played with his dog by throwing sticks for the pet to fetch under the blossoming trees. There was the time he walked around in the muck of the marshes. Mud and dirty got on his clothes and face. So when he returned to town, you cleaned off his face with your handkerchief. The time he proposed, and you through your arms over her broad shoulders and embraced him with a “yes.” Every polite kiss on the hand that scratched from his goatee. Every lovely dance at a party where he looked in your eye as you both moved to swelling string music. Every sermon that you took note of while admiring the grey morning light of the church and on his white robes with green sashes.

Then the letters. The morning in the field. Cora.

Every flash of his black with the small white flap of the collar that made you smile and your heart race with excitement. The sign that he represented God. Now it was something different. Black on white made your insides watery-once he represented God and now, he represented all things bad and wrong with the life. No- not with life-with men.

There was a knock on the door. Loki opened it. You stayed at the chair, turning to him. He was in his usual black and green robes. His blue eyes bright and his face had a gentle frown, rather than the proud, smug smile that was typical of him.

“How are you now? Slept alright?” he asked.

“Hadn’t slept this well in ages….” You answered.

“Do you…need anything, darling?”

“Don’t call me darling. And no.” you replied.

He took a step forward. You feel yourself lean a little back. The sunshine of outside melted its golden light into the room. It illuminated his face. It made the little embellishments on his clothes glow and patches of it warmed your skin.

“If you need anything, let a servant know. Or me.”

“If you can read my thoughts now, why bother asking?” you asked.

“Just to make sure, Y/N,” he said.

You stood up and crossed your arms.

“Why are you even here? Offering all these things, making me coffee in a cup? I know why-only offer nice things to me, so I owe you. To force me to sleep with you. How disappointing-You might be a god, but you’re just like all the other men.”

You turned to look out the window. He let in a deep sigh, his eyebrows briefly shooting up. He didn’t reply at your comment.

“The gardens and libraries and every nook of the library is free for you, should you want them.” He offered. Then he closed the door and left.

You did not feel like talking to Thor. As you passed him, you would only smile in greeting.

“Why-Y/N? What’s the matter?” he asked in his booming voice.

“Nothing, just…leave me alone…” you said, increasing your pace.

You curled up in the library. You grabbed volumes of sad romantic poetry. You read and re-read them to cry and cry your heart out. It was a release. It was something- the sadness that never left you.

I was never enough for Will. I’m not enough for him, for anyone… you kept thinking. When the last rumble of your latest crying session ended, you felt raw. Squeezed out like a wrinkled fruit. You noticed tear stains on the pages of the book. When you looked out the window, you realized how much time had passed. It was either the late afternoon or early evening. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m not in the mood, Loki!” you dismissed.

“I’m not Loki, my lady…” answered a similar voice.

When you opened the door, you saw Prince Hal. He had two silver glasses of what smelled like wine.

“He told me what happened. And I thought dealing with my father was bad.”

He walked inside. He handed you the wine. It’s dry, rich taste was welcoming. As you wiped your mouth, you noticed the deep red stain on your sleeve. The fireplace to the library crackled with a fresh ember. Both of you sat on the chair and sipped your glasses.

“So, it was you who brought me here?” you asked.

“Yes. Loki said he heard your cry for help. Your pain. He didn’t tell me why at the time, but he insisted I go and fetch you. He used his magic to send me there- said you deserved a ‘handsome prince on a horse’ to help you. But that his kind of prince would not be preferable to you. Hence me.”

You nestled into the chair. Hal cupped his goblet with one hand and began to take big drinks of it down.

“You said Loki…he told you what…what Will did…” you prodded.

Hal nodded, you could see an auburn curl fall free from his head.

“Yes. He did, he confirmed.

“And you saw Stella?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly. His eyes went to the corner and then back to yours in realization.

“Ah! The maid? That was her name? To be honest, I think she saw me. She was the first to find you,” he recalled.

“The First? She was in the forest at night?” you asked.

“Not night- the early morning. She was up early- I saw she had a basket for picking berries, as maids do. I heard her cry for help. Twas how I found you. I watched the maid pitifully try to carry you and fail- her delicacy not strong enough to carry you back to safety. You should have seen her amazement upon my steed. I told her who I was and who sent me, and she believed me. Then I could carry you like a babe and set us both on the horse and away. Her gentle heart fretted over you, my lady. I had to assure you many times you would be safe here in Asgard.”

You nodded. For the first time, you smiled at her. At the memory of your friend.

“Stella’s a good friend of mine. I’m glad she found me…” you responded.

Hal finished his wine with a big gulp. You weren’t even halfway done.

“You…you loved your intended. And he hurt you…I cannot imagine what it is to be hurt like that,” he said.

You made no comment, staring at the dark red of your wine in your cup. So dark, that it almost looked black. Hal then leaned forward, half ready to spring up from his chair.

“Perhaps…we should go to a tavern here. We’ll have another drink or two. I’ll tell you how I once scared an old man robbing a lord-get your mind off!” he offered with a smile and a wink.

A tavern. A place with low-lives, drunkards, and street walkers. A place where he would be emboldened with drinking and partying. Hal would flirt with you and smile at you. And then he would offer a room with one bed for the night. And it would not be for sleeping. Will seemed calm. He seemed chaste and appropriate. He seemed respectful of you. He seemed focused on God and his position. But his shaking cock could not lie. If this was how vicars acted, then how would this wild prince be like? No-no you had no taste. No- that was what Hal was after!

“No thank you, Hal. But…thank you for the wine.”

With that, Hal left.

The next two days followed that pattern. You took long baths full of hot water and scented soaps. You walked in the garden, never wanting to talk to anyone-not even Queen Frigga. You went to the library and curled up on a chair watching the fire, mostly to read the sad love poetry and wallow. You cried in every spot. On the garden bench, on the library rug, by a stone column, and on the long, marble steps. You cried in the morning. You cried in the afternoon. You cried at night. You would wake up late at night and begin crying again. You drank wine and stuffed yourself full of every tray of food. But thankfully, with the potion, your sleeping improved. You would awake to orange morning light and the crisp cool of the air of a new day. Refreshed and feeling new energy in you than the heavy weight of insomnia.

On the third day, Loki knocked on the door again to you. You were just enjoying a cup of coffee (the staff of Asgard figured out how to make some especially for you) and looking over the pages of a book you borrowed from the library.

“Y/N…do you want to return home?”

You shook your head.

“No. I can’t. I’m not ready,” you answered.

“But…anything from your home you would like?” he asked.

“I would like…my clothes. And my journal and embroidery from home.”

“You mean-the bustle and all those heavy skirts?” he asked with a curl of his lips.

You gave him a frown, furrowing your brow.

“Yes, my bustle and skirts!” you insisted.

Loki let out a sigh then tipped his head to the side.

“That can be done.”

“Loki…why are you so kind to me?” you asked, folding your arms in a hug for yourself.

Loki shrugged.

“It’s not a good look on the palace to have a guest be unhappy.”

“You sure do seem a little too grateful just for giving you milk,” you replied.

“I am not an ungrateful man, despite what my father will tell you…” he said. You got up from your chair and took a step closer to him.

“Loki…do you…do you know what’s going on back home? I know Stella saw Hal. And Hal told her I was taken to Asgard.” You asked.

“She’s telling them that you were hurt and was sent to Asgard for help.”

“So, they believe her?”

“Of course, they don’t believe her. They believed in a serpent. Now that they have been proven there is no serpent, but there is me, their imaginations are still running. They keep whispering to each other how you were abducted by the Norse God to be his whore. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not to them-That’s what they believe. Makes for a good story, don’t you think?”

You decided not to ask about Will.

With a flick of Loki’s hand, out came a dress, corset, bustle, stockings, and petticoats and bustle laid on your bed. The dress was one of your own and a favorite of yours for the day- white with green stripes and pink embellishments. With another snap of his fingers, you saw your old journal and your embroidery, thread, and needles were there on the desk.

You smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Ah- I finally get one from you.”

He went over to the bed, observing the clothes.

“The more I look, the less bad I think they are…. your time’s fashion,” he commented.

“They are mine. They are a part of me- and it’s how I like to dress. I, for one, think your Asgardian dress is strange!” you shot back.

He crossed his arms and then leaned against the wall. You noticed a small laugh escape him in just a exhale. But then he flashed a handsome, winning smile.

“Oh- wait until you meet the others. There’s three- the new one dresses right in your era. But the other two of them are dressed strange, I can tell you that!”

You turned up.

“New men?”

“Yes- the new form. We’re all making a circle of each other for support!”

“For your war!”

“The one from your time is busy right now-so he will very likely be late. But the two others- the ones from the future- they will be here today at breakfast. But…I know that you have been taking your meals alone…I don’t wish to bother you,” Loki shrugged. “Like I said, it’s mainly for a meeting. About this little war. The danger to our worlds and all that. But you might as well distract yourself. Unless you’re not ready…”

You got up.

“No…I’d like to meet them, please. Just let me get dressed.” You insisted.

He smiled and then left to give you privacy.

You sighed with relief putting on your own fashions. It felt like missing a part of your skin. You didn’t feel like a creature in a zoo repeating a mindless pattern. No, you were a person. Once you were done, you opened the door. Loki was pacing about. He stopped and smiled at you.

“Here- allow me to escort you…”

Loki offered his arm. You hesitated, then You took it and began to walk with him. He felt warm from being so close. Even the leather of his sleeve was warm. He did smile a small smile but offered no remarks to you. That is, until you finally walked into the dining room. Of course, Hal was there, running a hand through his hair.

“Ah! My lady! You’re right here! You can meet them!” Hal said with a greeting smile.

“Who’s them?” you asked.

As if on cue, in walked another gentleman. He had the same look as them if you saw his face- cheekbones and blue eyes. But his skin was a bit tan, and his hair was short. Blonder than the others. He wore strange clothes- you could see a white shirt with a blue jacket and blue pants that matched. Though he looked at you. He at once went up and shook his hand and smiled.

“Oh- you are out and ready? Are you a guest here as well? The woman from Aldwinter?” he asked. His voice was formal and his manners proper, despite the oddity of his clothes.

“Yes, I am,” you confirmed. Loki let you go from his arm as you approached the gentleman.

“Pleasure to meet you- my name is Jonathan Pine.”

You curtsied and he looked at you in amusement. His hand reached out to shake yours, then it retreated.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you replied dutifully.

Loki let out a little laugh. He stayed standing, pulling up a chair intended to be yours.

“Oh, Jonathan! You do have a weakness for beautiful women in need of help!”

Jonathan shot him a look.

“I’m only greeting her, sir,” he said.

“You’re not at work, Jonathan-and no one’s here to watch you. You can finally relax here…” came another voice.

In walked another similar looking fellow. Only he had redder hair that was a touch longer. He wore a white shirt and dark pants and something funny and dark around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you saw a watch around his wrist. But something in his pale face and there was a slight sadness in his eye. But he looked up at you and they shone.

“Ah, the new girl!” the stranger said.

He went up and shook your hand. You were a little shocked at the intimacy-touching a man you didn’t know!-but went with it.

“I hear Hal gave you quite a ride the other day. Well, I can give you one too if you like,” he said with a wink.

You felt yourself become hot and flustered and fluttered your eyes down. You even frowned and when your eyes went up you glared at him.

“Sir! Do not speak to me in that way when I don’t even know your name!” you said.

“Oh, please- Robert! You don’t even know her name! Robert, this is Y/N. Y/N- this is Doctor Robert Laing. I promise you, he doesn’t bite!” Loki assured.

“Hard” added Robert with a playful shrug.

With that, the men sat at their seats before the food and you.

Loki swept his arms up. “And now I was told the other would be late- we may begin gentlemen…and lady…”

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roninishere · 9 months

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right now.

part one.

Giyuu Tomioka x female reader

Warnings: angst, in the feels, anxiety, bullying, self hate, bad grammar?

Summary: Life is incredibly unfair at times, this was one of them.

“You don’t think I can handle being a Hashira anymore..don’t you?” The way your voice cracked, really made him feel guilty.

And the worst part was, he had so much to say to you, but he just couldn’t.

Neither one of you ever left things like this, never. He regretted it the very moment you left for your mission. He knew that was probably one of the worst things he could let you think, and him not say a damn word. cause it wasn’t true.

‘Lights go down and The night is calling to me, yeah I hear voices Singing songs in the street and I know’

As if his anxiety wasn’t already always so high, it kept him laying awake in bed. And he wasn’t the only one that couldn’t sleep, little Mio would cry her little lungs out. Every night for the first week you were gone. After day four, Giyuu discovered that her sleeping on his chest after he sang her the lullaby that you use to, her chubby pale fingers wrapped around his pinky was the key.

She slept peacefully, at least that made one of them.

‘That we won't be going home For so long, for so long, but I know That I won't be on my own Yeah, I love this feeling and

Right now I wish you were here with me (oh) 'Cause right now everything is new to me (oh) You know, I can't fight the feeling And every night I feel it Right now I wish you were here with me (oh)’

Giyuus couldn’t help it but his anxiety was so bad this time around, maybe because he never failed to worry about you every time you left for a mission. He knew that you could take care of yourself, you were a Hashira after all, but something wasn’t right.

He hoped you’d complete your mission and be home soon.

Until a week turned into two weeks. No letter from you, just your crow reporting his biggest fear.

You had gone missing after your encounter with the demon.

So he searched for you, having your crow take him where you went missing. Nothing. He found nothing. It was like you vanished out of thin air. That’s what scared him.

All the worst possibilities had flooded in his mind. Not his beloved. He couldn’t lose you too. Seven days and not a trace of what could’ve happened to you.

Don’t give up. She would never on you.

‘Late-night spaces With all our friends, you and me, yeah Love these faces Just like how it used to be’

“You know, she probably just got sick of your shit and took off. I know I would with that ‘I’m not like you guys’ attitude.” Sanemi shrugged as Master called for a Hashira meeting to discuss about their missing Hashira comrade, and of course everyone was getting their lick in.

Taking shots. Giyuu never gave a shit about what they thought of him, but this wasn’t the time to being making allegations. You’d never leave him, he knew that. You’d never. They all knew that. Even if you were upset with him about your fight, you’d always come home. He and Mio were your reason for living, the reason you never gave up in this harsh world.

“I never understood what she saw in you anyways. Mr. High and mighty, must’ve said some messed up stuff.” Obanai added.

Their comments just angered Giyuu, his expression staying the same as his hand on his side balled into a fist, really? Right now?

His wife is missing, their beloved Hashira, and all they heard was that they had an argument before you left? He’s better off on his own.

Fuck he missed when you use to attend these meetings with him, threatening to fight the Wind and Serpent Pillar if he didn’t keep your husbands name out his mouth. When he had to throw you over his shoulder, and line up on the opposite side of them.

“That’s enough! This is serious, no matter what happened before she left for her mission, the situation still stands, a Hashira is still missing!” The love pillar glared at the two other pillars as she stood her ground. “Stop saying things that aren’t true! it’s not like Y/N to just go missing, especially after an encounter with a demon. Instead of bullying Tomioka-San, remember that’s his daughters mother you’re speaking of!”

Shinobu set a hand on her friends shoulder seeing she got all worked up, and was nearly in tears.

Zoning out everyone, Giyuu set towards Masters Estate once Amane came out with Mio in her arms. “Tomioka-san, still no progress?” Giyuu returned her bow as he took the toddler in his arms.

“No,” his voice was calm as the little girl gripped his index finger in her chubby fingers with the cutest burst of laughter to see her father. “Would be alright if I bring her back tomorrow afternoon?”

He hadn’t noticed the pillars stopped their bickering behind him, seeing how much the little girl in his arms looking like their missing pillar. Same eyes, same smile, and hair color. If Mio didn’t have Giyuus pale complexion and similar hair style, she would’ve been a spilt image of her mother.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for a few more days? You’ve been gone for a week, you should rest.”

He wanted to, but he couldn’t give up now “I’ll rest once I find Y/N. I made a promise, isn’t that right princess?” His dark blue ocean eyes were soft as he caress her cheek, giving it a little pinch getting a squeal out of the baby.

“I understand, then of course, bring her by tomorrow afternoon,” The masters wife waved at the little girl.

‘And we won't be going home For so long, for so long, but I know I won't be on my own On my own, I'm feeling like

“almost done princess.” It was easy for him to do his own hair, but doing it on someone else, let alone a baby, was harder. Well he just had to be very delicate. His hands were gently as he brushed her hair that was surprisingly long, already down past her shoulders. The Hashira sat on his knees behind Mio who was making cute silly faces to her father, waiting for him to see her reflection in the mirror.

When he finished putting her hair in a loose ponytail, he sighed softly before looking up in the mirror to see her sticking her tongue at him before breaking out in a giggle fit before she tried to crawl away, “and where do you think you’re going, come here silly,” he crawled over to her playfully as she let out playfully screams before he snatched her up in his arms “I gotcha!”

“D..da-ada!” Mio exclaimed causing Giyuu to freeze, did she just? She just said her first word!

He smiled so big at her of happiness before a feeling of sadness washed over him, she said her first word…and you weren’t here. You were missing her first word.

If you were here, he could see you getting all excited yet jealous that of course her daughters first word was dada! You’d pout but definitely treasure this moment with him. He never dropped his smile, not wanting to upset his daughter as he fought the fears that were building up.

I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I failed to protect you. I’m so sorry. I will find you and bring you back home.

God he missed you so much, so fucking much. He felt like someone stabbed him, and was turning the blade in his stomach over and over. Like a thousand pounds were on his chest, making it so hard to fucking breathe. He felt someone had a grasp on his heart, squeezing it to see how long before its burst.

His heart was breaking every second you were away from them, every time he subconsciously thought of the worst.

After being unsuccessful the second time, he grew frustrated, but he wasn’t giving up. He made a promise to his pride and joy that he would bring you back home.

“Alright,” he stood over Mio as the little girl stood up, she had been determined for the past few days, trying over and over again, now matter how hard she fell. Definitely reminded him of you, too stubborn to stop. Slowly and steadily letting go of her hands, Giyuu walked over a few paces as she struggled to stand on her own. “Come here Mio, walk to me.”

His arms reached out for the toddler as she took a very wobbly first step, nearly falling but caught herself with her hand before pushing back up. The second step made the Hashira smile, her first steps already. The third one quickly turned into a sloppy fourth one when she crashed into Giyuus arms with a fit of giggles. Bringing her into his lap, he smothered her in face kisses “Good job princess,” he nearly folded when she reached out, tugging on his cheek.

You missed her first steps too.

Y/N, wherever you are, I hope you’re safe, just hold out a little longer.

‘Lights go down and I hear you calling to me, yeah

On his third attempt, he went nine miles north of where you encountered the demon, to find ripped pieces of your haori around the area. Picking up them up, the pieces lead him to w trail where your sword laid, nearly covered in leaves.

His heart steered to swell, his hands started shaking when he bent down to pick your sword up.

Not his Y/N. Please not her.

How much more would this world take from him?

Balling his fists, his cloudy vision searched every inch of the area for you, you were close, he knew it. “Y-Y/N?!”

The more he called out your name, the more his voice broke, where were you?

Give me a sign please.

Instead he felt the presence of a demon, gripping your sword tightly in his hands. The footsteps got closer, right behind the Hashira, and once he jumped up, flipping back to attack… he froze, unable to commit as your once beautiful eyes were now large cat like ones.

No. Impossible!

He kicked you away from him, hating the twisted turn in his stomach of causing harm to you. Once he landed in his feet, they immediately buckled, his knees crashing on the leaves underneath him. His once calm expression crumpled as his bottom lip trembled. Tears welled up in his pretty blue eyes as they ran down his cheeks uncontrollably.

“N-no…p-please…no…” he begged, his voice so hoarse.

It felt like someone ripping his heart out his chest as the quiet environment echoed with his sobs.

Please, someone wake me up from this horrible nightmare.

Until reality hit him that this was REAL. Tomioka, Y/N, the love of his life, his beloved, the mother of his daughter…

A demon.

The loud nasty snarls escaped your lips made him wince as you bolted to him, ready to attack.

I can’t do it, I-I can’t, he told himself.

Getting to his feet, he once again dodged your attacks with tears down his pale cheeks “Y/N! Snap out of it! P-please! You know who I am!” He cried out as he tried to regain you back, regain his wife.

Even though you should’ve been faster and stronger than him, despite his emotions, he easily blocked your sloppy movements coming to conclusion that you haven’t fed on anyone, yet. And you wouldn’t, especially if he had anything to do with it. Remembering him, he had to get you to remember, remember your life over your desire for human flesh and blood.

“I-it’s me! G-giyuu, your husban-nd!” Tossing the swords to the side, he wouldn’t attack you, he refused. He couldn’t hurt you. He sniffled, wiping his face as he side stepped to avoid you “r-remember the day we-e first kissed? It-t was under the fireworks-s, you were so beautiful-l in that orange k-kimono. I-it was fall,” he held back a sob as you growled like a beast in the shadows “come-e back to me Y/N, f-fight it!”

Fireworks? Kiss? You in an orange kimono? Oh when you felt those butterflies in your tummy? When you thought you were pass out from how overwhelming feeling of love and desire you felt for him? That day? You remember that day! You had just turned eighteen that fall.

Seeing your eyes widen and halt for a moment, he kept going even when you went for a hit “M-Mio! H-how hard you cried when you held her in you-ur arms, y-you said she was a-as beautiful a-as a cherry B-blossom even though she l-looks just like you…Y-you c-call her your precious c-cherry blossom.”

Mio. My precious cherry blossom. My blessing. My baby girl.

Tears built up in your eyes as frustration was new to you, so lost, so hungry. So thirsty. Just a taste…

No! I can’t, my Mio, my Giyuu I just want to hold and kiss my family. I want my life back. Fight it Y/N! You’re not hungry nor thirsty, you’re not hungry nor thirsty. You’re not a monster. Remember Nezuko, there’s hope, hope, you don’t have to be a killer. You’re not a killer. You can still be you, and still protect.

You’re not hungry nor thirsty.

Those sobs filled your eyes as you felt it tug in the pit of your stomach, make it stop. You’re not hungry or thirsty.

‘Ensure you feed. If you feed, it’ll make the pain stop.’ That unfamiliar voice repeated itself in your head, and just when you thought you had complete and utter control, you didn’t.

Your mouth was watering, you were hungry and thirsty.

Not expecting the quick snap, the hashira did his best to avoid, but not before you go scratched up Giyuu pretty good. Jumping back, he felt pain on the left side of his cheek and neck, blood trickling down slowly. Lifting his head up, his hair moved to the side exposing the damage you had done.

Mild cuts on his left cheek and neck…

The first time you saw Giyuu with scratches on his face…the two of you had been on your third mission together when he pushed you out of the way to take nails to his face from a demon. You…you had felt so guilty…because you weren’t…paying attention? Ah yes.

Second time was when he came home from a mission…he got marked up when a child was caught in the crossfire of an attack. He..didn’t go to see Shinobu…he came straight home, the incident scared him half to death, thinking of you and your unborn baby…

Except this time around, you were the cause of it.

You hurt him.

You. A demon. Hurt your husband.

Stopping in your tracks, your hands shook as your balled them in fists, digging your nails in your palms as your heavy breathing sounded almost like it hurt, it was ragged and shallow. Your eyes switched from hunger to full of fear as you’re backed away from your husband.

Flooding of all the good memories in your life flashed through your head; running away from an abusive family to join the corps, your friends, meeting Giyuu, falling in love, getting married, becoming an hashira, and having be blessed with the most beautiful baby girl.

Mio. Giyuu. They are you family Y/N REMEMBER THAT! Your everything!

Backing up into a tree, your hands shook as you blocked out that desire to feed “I-I-…” that burned sensation was fighting you, but you refused for it to win. No!

“You breathe life into my existence, making every moment worth living…” your eyes flickered over at the Water Hashira when your heart fluttered at those oddly familiar words. Meeting your sad gaze, his monotone explained “you’ve told..me that since we’ve met.”

Of course you did. He and Mio were your breathe of fresh air, the reason you chose to live in this fucked up world. Overwhelming pit of sadness returned, engulfing you as you broke down in tears, crying out in pain, crying out how sorry you were. How sorry you were for failing, for being weak.

😭 I hope you enjoyed! I really tried with this one, and very much enjoyed writing it! I promise they’ll will be more parts! SPECIAL SHOUT-OUT TO @unofficialmuilover FOR THE HELP AND BASICALLY HAND HOLDING ME THROUGH WRITING THIS 🫶🏼💙 LOVE YOU GUYS! 🫶🏼

Going to bed 🫶🏼 my stubborn ass wanted to finish this and I got muster in the morning 😭

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer giyuu #kimetsu giyuu #giyuu x you #kny giyuu #giyuu x y/n #giyuu tomioka #kimetsu no yaiba

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powderblueblood · 2 months

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PARENTHOOD VERSE MY BELOVED .. the sole idea of Lacey having to show up to a parent teacher conference and having to be convinced that no actually cutting class to go smoke is kind of a bad thing and her realizing that she does not know how to talk to a teen anymore (she never did)

“i’m doing this because i love you.”

“and i love you for doing this!”

“no, i need to say it out loud so it’s believable, otherwise i’ll drive my car into the ditch on the way to that godforsaken school.”

“you won’t do that, lace.”

“give me one good reason.”

“three—because you love me, because you want an open casket funeral, and because… you might be a little fond of that kid. i think.”

this whole thing is fucked.

chair’s too small, first of all—they definitely made the chairs smaller since lacy went here which she can only assume is some kind of tactic of psychological warfare. which leads her to think, okay…

“if i may, can you just level with me, cunningham?”

christine cunningham. ninth grade biology and health teacher. decidedly not the mother of lacy’s kind of-ish stepson, but damn well could’ve been. which freaks her out a little bit.

“he’s doing okay, isn’t he?”

chrissy taps her pen against the report card.

“well… he’s doing more than okay, lacy, he’s doing pretty… great, actually, especially for a new transfer—“

crazy how those munson genes can mutate.

“uh huh. and he did the reading for that class?”

“yeah, as far as i—“

“so what’s the problem?” lacy shrugs.

a look of mild incredulity from chrissy, like, do you seriously not get this.

“no, i’m serious,” lacy presses, “what’s the problem.”

“the problem,” chrissy scoffs, “is he cut the period to go sell loosies to freshmen by the athletic track.”

lacy can’t help but caw a little laugh. and the genes are strong! wait til this gets back to the fathership… that entrepreneurial spirit just won’t be beat out of these boys, will it?

“chrissy, c’mon, who among us hasn’t—“

“that doesn’t really matter, lacy. aren’t we all trying to do a better job than our parents did?”

okay, that’s a little on the nose. lacy’s got to concede, because she can’t compete with chrissy’s big ageless moony eyes and earnest nature. makes her want to drop kick a garden gnome. so she straightens her collar, promises to talk to the kid and gives her a little if that’s everything and good to see you, chris then she’s dismissed.

kid’s waiting in the hallway, legs splayed out from his chair. he’s so goddamned tall and wiry that he takes up half the fucking corridor. those munson magic brown irises swivel up to her, but the charm’s killed by the sneer on his face.

“so?”

“you’re over. they’re making us homeschool you.”

“i’d like to see you give that a crack. what’s first, replacement parent theory 101?”

“aren’t you hardboiled! c’mon. let’s go.”

lacy notices his footsteps get a little more anxious, work a little harder to catch up with her little clip as they cross the parking lot. there’s a friendly heaping of his grandfather in him that way.

“so what are you gonna tell dad?” he asks, nervous edge cracking at his voice as he folds his enormously long legs into the passenger seat of this joke of a hotrod she’s still driving. al’s. she’s trying to give it a good home.

lacy takes a long look at him, with his father’s eyes and nose and nerve and a mop of curly hair to seal the deal. he’s fretting a little, the shitstarter attitude he’d come from the west coast with wearing a little thin in their little pocket of east jesus nowhere.

“depends,” she says, “how much you make with those loosies?”

“i don’t know.” he shrugs, he knows. “fifteen bucks or something.”

“fifteen bu—?! what were you charging? a goddamn dollar a dart?!”

“something like that.”

“how did you not get beat up?”

“rich kids don’t know the difference. i just looked for the richest looking kids.”

lacy blinks. starts the car.

“you’re using that and whatever’s left in your wallet to buy dinner,” she sighs, a grin threatening her. “and i’ll tell e—your dad exactly what i was told.”

a nervous beat. she hears him clench his jaw.

“that franklin munson is a goddamned grade a student.”

“ugh. don’t suck up.”

“do i look like i’m trying to impress you, frankie?”

she is, a little.

#powder room talk #slowdancer #FRANKLIN MUNSON dorky ass name #god my parenthood verse my love my life #edlacy #l. doevski by powder #f. munson by powder #published by powder #lulal

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emperornapoleon-and-i · 6 months

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Hello, my most wonderful Napoleonic family! I strongly apologise for not being so active on 'Tumblr' as far as my personal posts are concerned, but I believe that this is my first piece of serious writing on this particular 'blog'... As far as you know, my love for Emperor Napoleon surpasses all possible words and facts and the Universe combined... I have adored him since I was twelve years old and I can feel his presence every day.

Therefore, once the first official trailer of the "Napoleon" movie was launched, I vowed to our beloved Emperor that I would not go to the cinema to see it. However, when I saw the huge promotional poster of this film at the cinema that is located within the mall where I usually go to buy hay for my bunnies, I began thinking about a different plan.

I was so anxious not to break my initial promise to His Majesty, so I asked him for a sign that could guide me towards the possibility of seeing the movie. So, my Mother came by to pick me up from my French tuition class on Wednesday. It was noon and she told me that all of a sudden, the radio in the car turned itself on and the volume level jumped to the 12th level. She confirmed the fact that she had shut it down after she parked the vehicle. I smiled widely and I told her: 'It was the Emperor! He really wants us to see the movie and write an honest review!". So, my Mommy and I went to the cinema this evening. God Allowed the sun to take a peek outside this afternoon as well, so I knew that He also Told me to go ahead and find my way to the cinema.

Alrighty... *Holding the Emperor's hand tightly*. Here we go... My review is going to be very long and I am going to bash Sir Scotty 'Snotty' a lot, as well as the actors. There will be 'SPOILERS!' 🥸🤯, so if you want to see the movie, you may stop here and read my post after watching it.

First and foremost, the beginning is so ambiguous and grotesque. I mean, who takes pleasure into watching someone get guillotined (it was Marie Antoinette in this case) and treated so disrespectfully after dying? I mean, come on... Scotty could have started the movie with our beloved Napoleone at school, when he came to France for the first time... Grrr... *Facepalm*.

Then, Joaquin... Good Lord... I have nothing against you, my friend, but your portrayal of Emperor Napoleon does not exist. Where is his strong voice, combined with his Napoleonic genius, unique charisma, perfect handsomeness and intense power? I just wanted to see EMPEROR NAPOLEON as if he was there with me, but all that I noticed was a tired figure with a weird Joker laugh and a ton of faint mumbles and erratic moves... That is not my Emperor... He is super brave. And he certainly organizes everyone and gets involved in everything. And Scotty, old bro... What have you done to our Emperor's image? You purposely chopped his magnificent life and superb personality into this flimsy visual magazine that is littered with lies and inaccuracy. You failed miserably by ignoring his golden heart, immense kindness and shining beauty... He is the perfect Emperor who sacrificed everything and this masquerade is more than disappointing. This is a living nightmare.

Oh, and Vanessa... Girl, you may be pretty and talented, but Empress Josephine is nowhere to be seen. Eugéne and Hortense are really cute, but your voice... Again... Our Sweetest Empress is the epitome of grace and sensitivity. You are just cosplaying an imaginary princess with a smug attitude. I just want to hug Joséphine right now. She deserves so many special things. And what is wrong with the portrayal of the deep and passionate relationship between Emperor Napoleon and His Josephine? There is not a milligram of truth there. I felt so embarrassed and disgusted that I simply could not look at those shameful and obnoxious scenes... I closed my eyes and I begged the Imperial couple for forgiveness. This is truly outrageous... Emperor Napoleon has so much love and tenderness for his one and only Joséphine... I felt so sick seeing how you betrayed them, Scotty old bore. Yer British mentality really made a mess. And you have no idea about the Napoleonic era. Barras looks like a bartender, Talleyrand seems to have food poisoning and Fouché is scared of himself.

The uniforms may look good, but the actors do not do them justice. The battle scenes are riddled with chaos, cheap 'fanfiction' imagination and useless noise... The Emperor is a genius, but Joaquin decided to daydream and sleep with his eyes open. The real Napoleon speaks with so much strength and confidence, but Phoenix sounds like his lungs hurt. The divorce scene is a disgrace. And why is it in 1807?! Emperor Napoleon and Empress Josephine suffered so much in 1809 and I can picture them in bed, one night before Joséphine's departure, crying in each other's arms... How could you allow that psychotic mockery to unfold? Joaquin really needs therapy and Vanessa... Why are you chuckling like a senseless doll? Moreover, the coronation is so rushed and fake... Nobody felt anything in this movie. And the " Coup D'État " was a disgusting 'Halloween' party with rowdy teens... I feel so sorry and immensely sad for Emperor Napoleon and Josephine... Horrifying...

Marie Louise and François (The King Of Rome) barely appear and Joaquin acts the last battles as if he is really not there or he charges around aimlessly... Boy... I am so enraged... The "Campaign Of France" is nowhere to be seen, the Emperor's triumphal return from the Island Of Elba is so faint and feeble, Wellington looks like a grumpy janitor with a fowl mouth when he spoke about the Emperor (I pictured Emperor Napoléon yelling at him and striking him with his riding whip) and the only thing that gave me some enjoyment was when the ugly Duke hit his head while he was walking through 'Bellerophon'... Man, and it felt so devastating when they were calling Napoleon "Emperor" instead of "Sire" or "Your Majesty"... What is this?!

I am beyond disappointed... This "movie" is a gruesome insult to the Greatest Emperor Napoleon... Riddle Snot has ruined an amazing potential by employing tired and clueless actors to play the most amazing Imperial family in the whole Universe. Sir Andrew Roberts deserves a " Pulitzer " for that article and I wish he directed a movie about the Emperor by casting Aneurin Barnard (he truly resembles the Emperor to a great extent and he is super passionate about his roles - " Interlude In Prague " is a wonderful example)... I apologise to the Emperor for the horrible mess Scott made... Joaquin was just playing his weird Joker 'fanfiction', whining, laughing, mumbling and sleeping... All I want to do is hug Emperor Napoleon so tight and give him a kiss... He deserves the best!

#ridleyscott#trainwreck#shipwreck#planewreck

#napoleonmovie #emperornapoleon #napoleonichistory #empressjosephine #kingofrome #mygreatestlovenapoleon #andrewroberts #napoleonbonaparte #joaquinphoenix #vanessakirby

#history #culture

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grimdragon13 · 3 months

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Angel

My take on what Crowley would say to whom he used to be

The windshield wipers moved lazily in their futile struggle against the raindrops. It was light, not unusual by London standards, but it still made it difficult to see the road clearly.

At least it was empty. That time of night, the time of year and the weather, were not appropriate for someone to be driving, let alone in such a hurry.

As if he wanted to escape from something.

"Would you be so kind as to slow down?"

The soft voice tingled on Crowley's nerves. As if this was the first time he'd heard it, even though they'd been on the road for several hours now, under that black cloud that seemed to perpetuate the rain no matter how hard he tried to drive away.

"At least you could answer me. I know very well that you can hear me".

Of course he could. Why else would he be so anxious?

"I'm not going to slow down, if that's what you want, and I'm not going to stop," he finally replied.

The angel, instead of taking offense at the dismissive and rude attitude, smiled. Crowley rolled his eyes under his glasses, so that the other couldn't notice, before turning up the volume on the radio. Not even Freddie's familiar and beloved voice managed to calm the demon's nervousness, and at this point he doubted there was even a chance, because all he could think about was the presence beside him.

On top of that, he kept looking at him, as if he had something very interesting to show him.

"Are you going to tell me where we are going?" asked that co-pilot of his, cheerfully.

"I already told you".

He was beginning to think that he was simply asking questions because he wanted to hear him talk. To his surprise, there was a prolonged silence as Mercury finished Somebody to love and started Love of my life, at least until Crowley turned off the radio. He didn't need to hear that song again. He'd spent years trying to fade the bitter memory of his goodbye, and just when he thought he was a little better, he'd come across this. He certainly didn't need it, he thought, for he had enough of his own problems without carrying one more.

Although, if he thought about it, that was also a problem of his own.

"Why did you take the music away? I was really liking it. What did you say it was called? Do you have any more?"

Questions and more questions. Crowley gave a sigh.

"You don't listen to music".

"But I liked that one. Besides, it's natural for me to like it, isn't it? After all, you heard it for the first time at some point, too. What's your favorite?"

Crowley didn't answer. He was too busy, pretending to pay attention to the miles of wet asphalt that lay before them, endless and dangerously tedious.

"Crowley, tell me," his annoyed co-driver insisted, after several minutes.

"What?" he growled.

"What happened?"

Crowley's brow furrowed.

"What are you talking about?" He wanted to know, though he was sure he would regret it.

"You. What happened to you?"

"What kind of stupid question is that? What the fuck do you think happened to me? Well, I fell, isn't it obvious? I'm a demon, you idiot".

The edge of his words didn't seem to have any effect.

"Yeah, but, that wasn't all, was it? I mean, how did you go from this," he said, pointing to himself and then to the other, "to that?"

And, for the first time in all those hours they'd been on the road together, Crowley turned to look at the angel. Creator of galaxies and stars, in charge of designing and crafting nebulae, of giving galaxies names. The freckles on his face were a clear symbol of his sacred work. Like an artist getting dirty with paint, a couple of particles of stardust had remained on his face, taking the shape of those pretty clear spots. His own had disappeared with his fall. That, and the clear honey-colored eyes, full of hope.

That was where the similarities ended, for even the red of her hair was lighter than his, less intense.

Crowley had planned to tell him everything. To explain to him how it was that he had fallen and how it was that he had ended up looking so deplorable in those last years. That had been his plan all along, because he thought maybe he could warn him, and spare himself so much grief.

Maybe he could save him, save himself, and in that way he could stop all the pain that came from that instant.

He could even, he thought, spare himself the grief that came from falling in love with Aziraphale.

He could start over. He could remain a naive angel, happy in his ignorance, and continue with the work he loved so much.

"Has anyone ever told you that you ask too many questions?", he finally spoke.

The angel cocked his head to one side and then shook his head.

Crowley gave a sigh. He returned his gaze to the road, an exact copy of the rest they had left behind, lonely as it should be at that time of night. The rain was still as heavy as it had been for long hours.

The demon snapped his fingers and the radio played again. This time, strangely, Tchaikovsky's classical music filled the air.

"Well, keep asking them".

#good omens 2 #good omens #anthony j crowley #crowley #crowley good omens #good omens fanfiction #angel crowley #demon crowley

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livingdreams97 · 2 years

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Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 3)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

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NOTE: If you see any spelling mistake im sorry, english is not my first lenguage and i try to do it the best possible.

Daenery's POV

Last night's talk with Y/n has never left my mind, every time I close my eyes the image of a broken boy both physically and emotionally comes to me. The way he spoke, moved and acted towards his mother is heartbreaking to me.

I never had the opportunity to be a mother to my little one, I was never able to hold him in my arms and enjoy him with his father Khal Drogo. But I do know that I would never, never have allowed anything to happen to my son, much less inflict that pain on him myself.

I am like this with my dragons, they are the only children I will have and I love them with all my heart. I couldn't bear that something bad happened to any of them and even less if it was my fault.

So I can't understand how Cercei, as a mother, has been able to be so cruel to her own child and leave so much to be desired as a healthy mother figure.

But what torments me the most is remembering his look when he told me about the promise and the reason why he can't marry me. It's not that I was looking forward to marrying him, but I accepted the proposal because it would help me reach the throne sooner and avoid many deaths thanks to that union.

And I have to admit that Y/n is a handsome man. It is something that I cannot deny, even when he is beaten, a little underweight and injured, the beauty of his face can be appreciated. Especially his incredible eyes and the combination of green and brown in those eyes.

Besides that by education, he has clearly received a good education and from what little I have seen, he has good manners. Therefore, he would not be the worst husband, after all; my own brother sold me to marry Drogo at first.

So getting married even if it's just a formality to get to the throne, with someone who speaks my language and who I know rape is not part of their culture, is not the worst thing that could happen to me.

But after seeing the pain and longing in his eyes, when he has spoken of his beloved. I understand you can't get married and have turned down the offer.

Anyway, right now I have other things to worry about more important and urgent than a denied marriage.

Right now I find myself looking out the window at the sea, from the map room and listening to the people behind me talking to each other.

Yara: If you want the throne, take it.- I listen as she tells me directly, so I turn to look at her. -We have an army, a fleet and three dragons. We can attack King's Landing now, with force, with everything we have. - she says with some anger in his voice. -The city will fall in one day.- she assures all those present.

Tyrion: If we free the dragons, tens of thousands of people will die in the fires.- he reminds her wisely.

Ellaria: It's a war.- she exclaims as if it were an excuse for the deaths. –If you have no stomach for it, then run to hide. - she says seriously.

Tyrion: I know how you fight wars. Here we do not poison girls.- He reproaches her with a certain resentment. -Myrcella was innocent.- he assures her and I can hear some pain in his voice.

Ellaria: She was a Lannister.- She excuses herself. -There are no innocent Lannisters. My greatest regret is that Oberyn died fighting for you.- she reproaches him with venom in her voice.

Daenerys: Enough is enough.- I ordered fed up with their attitudes. -Lord Tyrion is the hand of the queen and you will treat him with respect.- I remind her seriously. -I have not come to reign over ashes.- I clarify referring to the main conversation.

Olenna: I'm very glad to hear that.- The old lady sitting in front of me assures me. -Although, the truth is that I do not remember any queen more loved than my dear granddaughter. The populace adored her, the nobles adored her. And what's left of her now? - asks without any emotion. -Ashes. Commoners, nobles: they are but children, really. They will not obey you if they do not fear you.- she assures me with sincerity.

Daenerys: I thank you very much, Lady Olenna, for your advice; I thank you all.- I tell her sincerely. -But you have decided to follow me, I will not attack King's Landing; we will not attack King's Landing.- I clarify with all the seriousness in the world.

Olenna: And how do you plan to take the Iron Throne? Asking her please? - she asks me ironically and I look at my hand before saying anything.

Daenerys: I will lay siege to the capital, I will surround the city on all sides.- I tell them my plan. -Cercei will have the throne, but not food for her hosts or for her people.- I explain.

Tyrion: But we won't use Dothrakis or Immakulates.- he explains starting to move. -Cercei will try to recruit the lords of the west by appealing to their loyalty, their love for their country. If we besiege the city with foreigners, we agree with her; our army must be from the west.- He finishes explaining the reason for their presence.

Ellaria: And we will contribute to the Westeros.- she points out.

Tyrion: That's right.- He agrees. -Lady Greyjoy will escort you to Sunspear and her iron fleet will transfer the Dornish army to King's Landing.- he tells as he moves the pieces on the map. -The Dornishmen will besiege the capital together with the host of Tyrell. Two great kingdoms united against Cercei.- He finishes explaining the plan.

Olenna: So your infallible plan is to use our armies.- she denies almost imperceptibly. -Forgive the question, but why did you bother to bring yours? - she asks with a certain arrogance.

Tyrion: The unsullied will have another objective.- he explains, moving a token on the map. -For decades the Lannisters have been the true power of Westeros. The seat of that power resides in Roca Casterley.- He tells and looks at me. -Grey Worm and the Unsullied will sail there and take it.- He ends up throwing the lion piece with the one from the Unsullied's helmet.

Olenna: And that is the complete plan? - asks with interest and some curiosity.

I look at my hand, watching him take a deep breath and looking at me for confirmation. Before the meeting started, I told him about the end of my talk with his nephew and about his support for my coronation.

Tyrion: It's not everything.- He denies with a sigh walking towards where King's Landing is on the map. -Nothing shows more the end of a reign, than your own son and rightful heir to the throne; supporting another queen and not thier own mother.- account creating expectation and intrigue in the room.

Ellaria: What do you mean by that? - she asks leaning forward, a clear sign of her interest and curiosity.

Tyrion: My nephew Y/n Baratheon, heir to the Iron throne, is in this castle and supports Daenerys's ascension to the throne.- he answers without hesitation. -There is nothing that demonstrates the end of Cercei's mandate more than that her own son being on the opposite side and demands the throne for Daenerys.- He finishes telling and I can see the astonishment on the faces of all those present.

But there is something different in Lady Olenna's face, I couldn't point out what feelings the news provokes and the reason for those feelings. What I can say is that a certain brightness has appeared in her eyes and I can't understand why.

Olenna: Y/n is here? - she asks directly to my hand and it nods. -I want to see him and talk to him right away.- she orders seriously.

Daenerys: Right now he is not completely available, he arrived very late last night and he needs to recover from the trip.- I answer seriously.

Olenna: I demand to see him and talk to him.- She orders again, getting up from her chair.

My gaze goes to my hand, which is looking at the old woman with sadness and something akin to understanding. There is something that Tyrion knows and I don't, and I do not like that.

Tyrion: I'll accompany you to your rooms so you can talk in private and calmly.- he tells her with a sigh, walking towards her and looking at me for a few seconds over his shoulder.

I watch as they disappear from the room, leaving the place completely silent and feeling an iota of annoyance inside me.

If I say no, it means no and Tyrion is nobody to override my decisions. I understand that it is his nephew, but his nephew is on my property and is not here to receive any kind of visits.

POV You

Tonight I had the opportunity to sleep a bit, although the nightmares kept coming back and I ended up waking up drenched in sweat. But the good thing is that at least I was able to sleep a couple of hours.

I stop looking out the window of my room, when I hear a knock on the door and look at the door alert. I swallow hard, allowing them into the room and watching my uncle enter.

Tyrion: How did you spend the night? - He asks me as soon as he enters the room.

Y/n: I've been able to sleep a bit.- I reply, turning my eyes towards the sea.

Tyrion: I'm glad to hear that.- I listen as he says from behind me. -But there is someone who wants to talk to you and I want to make sure that you agree to let her go to your rooms.- he informs me and I turn to see him confused.

Y/n: As long as it's not my mother.- I answer with some irony and some hidden fear.

Tyrion: If it were your mother, I'd already be dead.- He laughs, opening the door and waving to someone. -I'll leave you alone so you can talk in peace.- he says and as soon as I see the person who enters I stand completely straight.

Y/n: Lady Olenna.- I whisper somewhat incredulous at her presence.

Olenna: Dear Y/n, what have they done to you? - she asks in a whisper, approaching me and seeing the blows on my face; and the thinness of my body.

Y/n: You already meet my mother.- I answer with some venom.

Olenna: Of course I do, but I never imagined that she would do something like that to you.- She points to my face and I immediately realize my manners.

Y/n: How rude of me.- I say approaching to help her. -Would you like to sit down and have a glass of wine?- I asked, bringing her closer to the table.

Olenna: You know I never turn down an offer like that.- she comments with a certain humor, sitting down in one of the chairs next to the table and me facing me; while I serve the wine. -How are you dear? - she asks me after a few minutes in silence.

Y/n: I guess as good as I can be.- I answer with a guilty sigh. -After all, I'm alive.- I pursed my lips with some poison.

Olenna: That's good dear.- tries to cheer me up but I deny.

Y/n: I should be dead, me and not her or my brother.- I say sincerely, looking at my hands and avoiding her gaze at all costs.

Olenna: Don't say that. Y/n, Margaery would be happy if you're still alive and safe away from your mother.- she tries to comfort me.

Y/n: It's not true, I'm to blame for everything and I'm the one who should be dead.- I say honestly, feeling the itching in my eyes and the pain in my chest.

Olenna: That is not so, if there is someone who should be blamed and judged, it is your mother.- try to make me see; but I just shake my head.

Y/n: It's my fault, because if I had risen to the throne at the time, nothing that has happened since our return from Winterfell would have happened.- I deny feeling all the guilt inside me.

Olenna: No, it's not your fault and you have to stop beating yourself up for it.- She denies grabbing my hand. -Your mother is a manipulator and she is the only one who is to blame for everything that has happened. From the death of Edward Stark to that of my grandchildren and your lover.- She assures me and I look at her with shame.

Y/n: Did you know? - I ask with some embarrassment, since the last few months she was married to my brother and we were still having relationships.

Olenna: I would have to be very blind not to know.- She tells me with a smile, letting me know that she doesn't mind. -I just had to see how Margaery shone when she was by your side or talking about you and believe me when I tell you that I was happy for her.- She assures me sincerely with a sad smile.

Y/n: So the relationship i had with your granddaughter doesn't bother you? - I ask a little more calmly.

Olenna: Not at all dear.- she shakes his head. -She was happy with you, either in secret and behind closed doors. And I was happy that she was, so it gave me security to leave knowing that you would be by her side.- she comments and I look at her with sadness and guilt.

Y/n: And even so I couldn't do anything to save her.- I sighed feeling the first tear slide down my cheek.

Olenna: You saved her in more than one way dear.- she promises me. -She was happy with you, she felt safe and complete when you were together. To be honest, I would have given anything for you to have sat on the throne and married her, instead of being the lover.- She sighs with some sorrow.

Y/n: You know what's funny? - I ask ironically. -That before Tommen was named king, I promised Margaery that I would proclaim the throne and that I would marry her and her alone. So that way we could be together publicly and not keep hiding. - I tell her with a small sarcastic laugh. -And look where we are now.- I mumble with venom.

Olenna: And I'm sure you did what you could to get it.- she tells me with confidence. -But you are old enough to know that not everything goes as we want and there are times in life when dreams are just that: dreams.- she explains with sincerity and evident experience.

Y/n: I know, but that won't stop me from keeping my promise and I'll stay true to your granddaughter until the day I die.- I say with all the confidence in the world, looking into her eyes and trying to make her see my sincerity .

Olenna: And what will happen the day you fall in love again? - She asks me with some curiosity.

Y/n: It won't happen.- I deny immediately.

Olenna: But what if it happens? If you meet a great woman and end up falling in love with her? - she asks with a sigh.

Y/n: Nothing, because I will keep my promise and be faithful to Margaery; just as we talked about it.- I stand with my answer.

Olenna: And do you think my granddaughter would agree with that? - She asks me raising a eyebrow. -Because let me tell you that she wouldn't be happy, knowing that you can rebuild your life and you're not going to do it just because of a promise you made to her.- She assures me with a frown.

Y/n: That promise is the only thing I have left from Margaery.- I whisper feeling my heart beat painfully.

Olenna: Your memories with her are what you have left, don't tie yourself to a promise where you will suffer and my granddaughter will also see how you refuse to love again.- she tells me with an affectionate voice. -Margaery would have wanted you to love again, to fall in love again and be able to enjoy the experience. She would have wanted you to get married and have children, because you deserve it dear.- She assures me and I can't help but smile at my happy memories with her.

Y/n: And how are you so sure of it, how do you know that she wouldn't mind if I rebuilt my life? - I ask her, really needing an answer.

Olenna: Because she loved you and you always wish the best to those people you've loved.- She answers me with an affectionate smile.

Y/n: I loved her too.- I assure her looking towards the ceiling so as not to cry.

Olenna: I know dear, I know.- She tries to comfort me. -And she knew it too, so don't stay in the past and give yourself the freedom to feel love again for someone other than your family.- she whispers and releases my hand, taking off a gold ring from her finger. -I think this should be yours.- she gives me the ring of the rose and I stare at it with teary eyes.

Y/n: How did you get it? - I ask caressing the rose with my thumb.

Olenna: I had it when she died and I think it belongs more to you than to me.- she answers me and I smiled, when I remember the first time I saw the ring and on whose hand.

Y/n: I still remember how beautiful she looked the day I met her, she was wearing that light blue dress with sleeves and she only had the upper part of her hair tied back.- I tell her looking at the ring. -I remember the touch and warmth of her hand in contrast to the one with the ring, when she introduced herself to me and I kissed her hand.- I remember now feeling only the coldness of the gold of the ring.

Olenna: And that's why I'm giving you the ring.- She explains with a loving smile. -Besides, I'm sure she would have wanted it that way.- she nods, pointing to the ring.

Y/n: Thank you very much Lady Olenna.- I sincerely thank you.

Olenna: It's nothing, boy.- she denies, dismissing it as unimportant. -But now I have to go, since I have to go to the upper garden and help Queen Daenerys to defeat your mother.- she says, carefully getting up from her chair.

Y/n: It has been a pleasure to speak with you again Lady Olenna.- I assure her walking with her towards the door of my bedroom.

Olenna: I can say the same dear.- she tells me with a smile. -We'll see each other again soon and we'll make sure to do justice to my granddaughter.- she nods confidently.

Y/n: We'll do it for her.- I nod watching as she disappears behind the door.

I'm left alone in the room again, but this time with less weight on my shoulders and something physical to tie Margaery to. I look at the ring in the palm of my hand with a sad smile, bringing it closer to my lips and leaving a light kiss on the rose.

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

A week had passed since my conversation with Olenna and I can say that she had been very helpful. I no longer felt the remorse I had at first and the guilt was not so great.

With each night, I was able to sleep a couple more hours and I could begin to see my body gradually return to its original physical form. Two days after the conversation, the queen allowed me to start moving around the castle and revoked the order of complete rest.

Which has made the following days more entertaining, since now I spend the day exploring the castle and its surroundings. While at night, I talk to the queen and that allows us to get to know each other better.

Which is great, because even though I trusted my uncle; I don't personally know Daenerys and I need to know that she is really worthy of the throne.

But there is something that I have been doing for a couple of days and that absolutely nobody knows. Three days ago from today, I went out to the cliff behind the castle after eating and sat looking at the sea thinking about everything that had happened lately.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't realize someone had joined me on the cliff and stood behind me. I only realized when I started to feel hot air on my back and when I turned around there it was.

The cream-colored dragon with orange, red and gold details staring at me just inches away. I have to admit that I almost fell off the cliff because of the fright, but after a few moments I was able to calm down and I was watching the dragon.

At no time did I move, since I did not want to alert him and have him attack me. So I let him move and put his nose in my hand sniffing me. When I saw that it was safe, i started stroking his face as best I could.

And that's what I've been doing for three days. And what I'm doing right now.

Right now I am sitting on the grass, with my back against the dragon's neck and caressing the side of his face next to me.

Y/n: Do you think this war will turn out well? - I ask the dragon, even knowing that he is not going to answer me and I am surprised when I receive a noise from him. -I only hope that my mother is not stupid and gives up.- I sigh, closing my eyes for a few moments, to enjoy the silence and the light breeze hitting my face.

Denerys: So this is where you've been running to after eating.- I hear her voice and widen my eyes completely surprised by her presence.

Y/n: Only the last few days.- I admit a bit embarrassed, since the dragons are theirs and here I am practically lying on one.

Denerys: I'm surprised that Viserion is so comfortable with you.- she comments walking towards us and stopping in front of the dragon's head. -Although the reality is that he is the most calm, affectionate and trusting of his brothers.- she tells me caressing his nose.

Y/n: I didn't want to bother you.- I apologize getting up from the ground immediately.

Denerys: You don't bother me, on the contrary.- she tries to reassure me. -If Viserion is so comfortable with you, it means that you can be trusted and I don't have to distrust you.- She assures me with a small smile and I can't help but notice how beautiful she is.

Y/n: The truth is that it wasn't planned.- I admit, looking away from her smile. -I came here to see the sea and by the time I realized he was behind me.- I explain and she nods slowly.

Denerys: And have you met his brothers? – she ask curiously and I simply deny. -Come.- I gave in and begin to walk around the place behind her.

I just follow her and watch how the wind gently moves her hair. We walked not much more than two minutes, when I look in front of me and stop walking abruptly.

In front of me are two more dragons, a green one the same size as Viserion and a black one even bigger and darker.

I swallow hard as they both look over at us and immediately growl at me as they walk over to me. Somewhat scared I take two steps back, bumping into something and turning to see the face of the cream dragon behind me.

I look forward again, when I hear growls again and this time even closer. I swallow hard, beginning to pray in my mind and wish my death isn't painful.

But I am surprised, when the dragon behind me steps forward, placing me between his front legs and growls back at his brothers. I open my eyes in shock, staring at the completely surprised face of the queen and mother of dragons.

Daenerys: The biggest one is Drogo, I called him that in honor of my late husband and the green one is called Rhaegal who together with Viserion were called in honor of my brothers.- she informs me standing in front of the biggest one and raising her hand in the air silencing it.

Y/n: I think they don't like me very much.- I comment taking a step forward and leaving my hidding between the dragon's legs.

Daenerys: They are not usually very friendly with strangers, but if Viserion likes you; sooner or later they will accept you and stop being so aggressive with you so to speak.- she assures me with a charming smile full of emotion.

Y/n: If they don't eat me before.- I murmur and listen to how she laughs at my comment.

Daenerys: Don't worry, I won't let them eat you.- she assures me with a certain humor.

Y/n: That calms me down a lot.- I say with some irony and fun.

Daenerys: We expect a visit soon.- she informs me while caressing the nose of the reddish black dragon. -And I want you to be present in the throne room with me.- she asks me and I nod with a smile.

Y/n: I would love it.- I accept and see how a smile adorns her face and a certain reddish color appears on her cheeks, but I don't give it any importance.

Daenerys: Then let's get going to the castle.- she tells me walking towards me and threading her arm with mine. -Besides, from what your uncle told me, you already know our guest.- she tells me as we start to walk and I get curious.

Y/n: And can I know who it is? - I ask with obvious curiosity, causing her to laugh and squeeze my forearm in response.

Daenerys: No, you'll have to wait and see with your own eyes.- she replies amused, because of the slight pout I put on her answer.

I just shake my head, continuing our walk to the castle and the throne room. A room that I haven't entered yet, because it gives me respect and I didn't want to cross any line by entering it. But now I can only think of who the guest could be, who I know would come to Dragonstone and support Queen Daenerys against my mother.

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