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avatarkv · 2 years ago

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EVERY CORNER OF THIS HOUSE IS HAUNTED. (1)

Synopsis ! Jake had taken you as his own after Tsu'tey's passing, leaving no one to care for you. Things had been good before your relationship with him had blurred along growing of age. You and him fought all the time; argued each other's ear off and tonight was no different-- except words have been said, severing the already damaged bond. Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. (wc; 3104)

Jake knew a saying; held onto it ever since he had resided amongst Na’vi– every person is born twice. While he believed that it meant that the second time is when you earn your place here in Pandora, Eywa had a clever way of broadening the idea. His very children were proof of it.

He thinks it’s the great mother’s way of compensation, perhaps a second chance for him to do better– to do his very best to keep them alive on behalf of those he lost.

While Kiri was a special case enough, you too were an odd one.

You are Tsu’tey's daughter. Turns out, he had someone in secret while he trained to become olo’eyktan– when he was supposed to take Neytiri for himself. It was taboo– absolutely wrong to become unfaithful to one’s mate. But following the carnage of the great war, when Tsu’tey had so selflessly sacrificed his life, only then did Tsi’ewa came forward; told everyone of their love and what could have been. She was a simple songstress along Ninat, but it was her round and bulging belly that caught everyone’s attention.

It caused an uproar and understandably so. After all, Neytiri had only announced her rebellion with Jake not long before, but when the people connected the dots themselves and both stories had become one, they understood that their hearts merely yearned for another and no one should have ever dictated otherwise. Arrangements had been made and condolences were exchanged— everyone can only look back and wish that things could have been different.

Jake was supposed to take you under his wing as a way of honoring him– he owed Tsu’tey his life and perhaps an apology as big as so. But after your mother had unfortunately died during your birth, he knew to himself that he had to take you in; not as a responsibility, but as his own blood and flesh. His first daughter.

You were the loudest baby, he recalled. That day, Jake had rocked your body back and forth in his arms frantically, while Mo’at and Neytiri did everything within their power to help Tsì'ewa. Your cries were ear-splitting, enough to wake the whole clan up.

“Just what do I do with you,” He muttered under his breath, eyebrows knitted in frustration– just where do he hold you? Is he doing it right? Are you hurt? Why are you crying so loud?

“Jake, the baby!” Neytiri’s shout from inside had cut his train of loud thoughts, snapping back to your bawling. He wasn’t doing such a good job.

“I’m trying, Neytiri– this thing won’t budge.”

Neytiri had emerged from the hut, stomping her way to Jake with a scowl. "That is not a thing, you skxawng!" she exclaimed before gently scooping you up from his arms, cooing softly to you– though it was more like mocking him instead. “Does Jake here make you cry?” She said, patting your thigh soothingly. “He’s not at all pleasant to look at, but you have to get used to it.”

Almost in an instant, your cries had died down. You babbled along with her, like you were agreeing with her every word. He slowly pulled himself closer to Neytiri, eyes wide with curiosity as he watched your small hands playing with her long braids. “Heh, she has Tsu’tey’s eyes,” He whispers, unable to look away.

The flap of the hut swinging open was the only thing that got their attention, momentarily away from yours as they looked at Mo’at with anticipation. With a single shake of her head, sorrow surged their hearts, eyes traveling back to your innocent ones. They mourned for you; an unknowing child should never have to carry such grief. They had to make a choice– A responsibility they weren’t expecting to have so early.

Jake mindlessly trails his finger down your stomach, gently, like you were the most fragile thing. Your little hand wraps around it and it was like you had binded his scattered thoughts into one big understanding.

Sully. You’re one of them now.

Jake releases a breathless chuckle as he gazes upon his lover and you with a newfound clarity, a perspective so bright it illuminated in his very eyes. Then came an idea– the desire of having children of their own. Perhaps that’s why Neteyam came after only two years. You were quite the ploy; the push they needed to start a family.

You were truly blessed– the genius of your age was undeniable, your remarkable talent soon earning you the admiration of all who had seen it. By the time you turned six, you had already mastered many of the abilities that a hunter would need– your skills with a bow were unrivaled by most of the children your age, let alone those who were much older than you. They'd marvel at your accuracy each time you took aim with an arrow. You could never miss. You had to make sure you didn’t.

By the age of 12, you had already accompanied Jake in hunts. You had developed a knack for planning, coming up with routes and back-up plans that were often surprisingly effective. You have proved to be helpful plenty of times. You were quick, silent– full of poise. They often wondered if you were an old, seasoned soul trapped inside a little girl’s body.

But as quickly as the spotlight had shone down on you, it left almost as soon as it had come.

(“What you did today was reckless, y/n.” Jake settles his bow on the table aggressively, emitting a sharp thud. You were just as frustrated, throwing your satchel down the floor of the hut.

The mission had gone rather wildly, with things not going along the plan. There was another airship– one that no one was aware of. Your instincts jolted your body, immediately throwing an explosive towards it which had it blowing all over the place– its pieces crashing and causing a wildfire.

Jake argued that there could’ve been a more safer way. One that didn’t have to risk more of our resources and supplies; one that didn’t have to injure the other warriors. Of course you knew to yourself that you did the right thing. You did what you had to do.

‘You could’ve been hurt and got others killed! Just what were you thinking?” He continued to berate you. You jest that if this went on, there’d be steam visible above his already heated head.

“I had to take a risk– not everything goes to plan and this is proof of it.” You answered back with a scowl, “If I hadn't, there would’ve been more casualties.”

“That’s not a call for you to answer to! Jesus Christ,” Jake runs his palms down his face, grunting, before looking back at you– expression suddenly tired and soft. “Come on kid, where’s that sweetheart who always listened to what I said?”

You had scoffed, a hurt forming on the pits of your stomach. “That sweetheart once had a place in plans before.” You said, eyes unwilling to look at him. It weighed in your heart heavily– why did people assume that you were the only one who changed? You didn’t understand. “Pretty sure the Jake before was a good listener too.”

The wrinkle in between his eyebrows deepened in confusion, but he never was one for confrontation. With a single dismissive grunt, he turns his back against you. “I’m way past your attitude. You’re grounded. Go.”)

As you grew, the resemblance to your father became ever more apparent. Jake started noticing the many similarities between the two of you; the way you walked– how you sauntered confidently through a crowd. Your braids would move along your heavy steps (and perhaps, that’s where Neteyam got his mannerism of swaying his too.), shoulders wide and proud. You even had his signature snarl, something Tsu’tey was known for that unfortunately seemed to have been passed down to you too.

However, it was more than how you brought yourself. You were strong-willed– stubborn.

There was another thing about you too. You didn’t call Jake dad anymore. It hurt him– left a heavy feeling on his chest every time you regarded him so distant. It was unfair that you still called Neytiri mom, why did it have to change with him? He didn’t have the heart to address it. Couldn’t ask you what went wrong.

Because he knows damn well why.

Lo’ak was enough of a headache, but you were a different kind of royal pain in the ass, more like a personal problem. It was tiresome. Petty. There was not a day that you and Jake wouldn’t argue and bite each other’s ass off– and yet, there was never a day where you two would talk it out. The fights would blur itselves out and before they knew it, things would be back to normal, only for it to fall out again over something small. It was routine. The only thing normal for you both.

He missed you– missed his baby. Just when did you grow to become so distant? When did he start to overlook you?

You’ll admit, you might have indulged in the folk’s gossip. They always had a story for everything and they have plenty about your father. Tsu’tey was a fit olo’eyktan. He had proved so in his training and determination. Of course it was a low punch in the gut when the throne had been passed to an outsider– a demon, most of all. It was unfair, he knew it wasn’t right. A washed up marine had taken something he had worked for like it was nothing. Like he was nothing.

You pitied your father and you feared you’d be like him– like nothing.

And history might just repeat itself. You weren’t clueless– wasn’t blind to the fact that Jake had trained your brother more. He adored him so much that the very moment he was in the right age to train, you were off to fend for yourself; trained all alone while Jake went over the routine with Neteyam like he did with you. You remembered waiting for him every afternoon because he promised that he’d make time– that time was yours and yours only. But as the light bled and neared eclipse and you were too cold to wait outside, you learned never to wait again.

They would come home soon after– smiles on their faces and a handful of apologies for you.

Soon enough, your suspicions proved you right as the people started to talk again; Neteyam– the golden child. He would make a good olo’eyktan.

Perhaps that would explain the drift between you and Neteyam too. Could they blame you for it? You had lost their attention so early– while you still needed them. You weren’t their kid and you were reminded of it everyday. In times when you didn’t know if you had space in the family hammock while they sat together, telling stories under the starry sky. You pretended to have fallen asleep everytime; back against them as you listened. In times where the family was growing and growing, until the small table wasn’t big enough for everyone anymore– or in this case, for you.

(“Come on, ma’ite, what are you doing so far from here?” Neytiri had called for you when she noticed how distant you were from everyone. You silently scooted beside her, wooden bowl in your lap. “Look, I prepared your favorite.”

It wasn’t. You hated it. You hated the tangy taste of it so badly. But you had decided to eat what was left on the table after everyone had gotten their meals and there wasn’t usually enough for you. Neytiri thought nothing of that– didn’t think that you eating only scraps and dried fruit was because there wasn’t anything else for you to have. She simply thought that it was your favorite and had been making it for you ever since.

You didn’t have the heart to tell her. Not when she thought she had been doing well with preparing it. You kissed your teeth, smiling tightly as you lifted the food to your lips, eating silently. “Thank you, it’s good.” You muttered under your breath after.)

But you were family; they said so themselves. When they tucked you in to sleep, when they patted your head. They were still present now, just not in the way you wanted– not in the way you longed for. It seemed like making them angry was the only way you could have their attention– particularly, your dad. You could never make Neytiri mad. She tries to understand you, she does. Explaining now just seems so.. Petty. So childish, you decided to push her away instead.

What do you tell her? That you only let dad blow a fuse or two was because you missed him? Because you didn’t know what went wrong?

So there goes your routine.

“I just don’t understand why I can’t be olo’eykte.” You had brought up again, lips in a familiar snarl. “You tire me and for what? Kiri is already training to be Tsahik– just what would my place in this clan be?”

“We are not having this conversation again, y/n. Not tonight.”

Jake had just returned from a particularly bad hunt; went home empty-handed and with a patience as thin as a strand of hair. He continued to sharpen his dagger, movements almost aggressive. Everyone immediately went out of his way, not wanting to be on the end of his temper– not you though. You could never get a hint, it seems.

“Yes, tonight! My ceremony is almost near, sir. I have been waiting.”

It wasn’t like he had a reason anyway. Jake couldn’t tell you because he had no reason as to why. Why couldn’t you be olo’eykte? You had all the skills to be one, even more so. But in the back of his mind, a thought so deep and petty that he couldn’t bear to say, tells him that the name he carried was something to gift his eldest son. Olo’eyktan was a privilege reserved for Neteyam. He never thought to have you so early– he always dreamed of having a son first.

“Wait more.”

“This is insane– sa’nok!” You had turned to Neytiri, eyes pleading. She quickly grasps your arm and tries to tug you back towards the exit, speaking in a soft but firm voice as she tries to soothe the tension.

“Ma’ite, why don’t we go out for a walk?” She whispers. To be frank, she was tired of this– never of you, no. But at the way things had been. Parents aren’t parents automatically just because they have had children of their own. It’s a skill they have yet to muster– to truly understand. She didn’t know where the line between you and her had blurry along the years. Didn’t know where this constant need of yours to be seen came from.

You jerked your arm away from her, almost too harshly. It tugged on her heartstrings, not knowing what was going on with you. “I cannot wait anymore.” You said, taking two steps towards Jake with an unreadable anger– an anger he didn’t know when had stemmed from.

“Is it because I’m not your daughter?”

His eyes widened. A flash of vulnerability visible in his gaze, momentarily softening his glare. “You stop this right now, y/n.” He had stood up, tucking the dagger back to his loincloth. Jake’s larger frame towered over you, telling you to drop it– to leave the conversation. But you weren’t backing down.

“I am your eldest–! You trained me earlier than Neteyam, I have been here long enough–”

“You aren’t ready!” He had shouted with the same fierceness, earning a dirty look from Neytiri.

“Why won’t you see me?” Your voice had softened, borderline begging– just a bit, but enough for his ears to flatten in response. He knew that beneath those few simple words lay many layers of underlying meaning; emotions that have yet to be spoken.

But he turns his back against you dismissively anyway. “Neytiri, get her out of here.”

Neytiri grabs you by the arms again, although a bit forceful now, but just enough for her to touch you– to have you in between her arms. She embraced you, like she was trying to keep the words from escalating. She feared one of you would say something out of line; something you both would regret.

But on the brink of the tension– the severity of the situation, you had muttered. Your voice was muffled, but it was clear. The message was oh so crystal. “You took everything from my father.”

Jake grunts, “Yeah? Well maybe your father wasn’t enough either.”

“Jake!” Neytiri hisses and although Jake couldn’t see her, he knew very well he was getting quite the conversation with his mate too.

It was a low blow. Unnecessary. A straight strike to the gut. It was a pain so bitter, you didn’t want it to linger any longer– you were nauseous. You wanted no more than to vomit everything that spiraled out of your stomach.

“You want to lead so badly and you can’t even control your temper. No clan wants a hot-head for a leader.” But he kept going– relentless and cruel. “You ought to be someone else’s shadow.”

“But I’m your daughter,” Your tone had softened, almost cracking as the lump in your throat grew. Tears blurred your vision, threatening to escape as Neytiri held you close.

“And yet you never listen to me— because I’m not exactly your father, yeah?” With one last glance, he stepped out, passing his children who stayed just outside the door, listening. Jake opens his mouth, desperate to ease the tension– the discomfort written in their faces, but he quickly shuts it and continues to walks out. He had said enough for tonight. There was nothing saving his face from this. It was best if he left instead.

“Oh, ma’ite.” Neytiri rocks her body along yours, drawing soothing circles on your back but the embarrassment settles in your chest– gnawing at your body. You catch a glance of the pitiful looks from your siblings as they try to enter the hut silently.

How could you make a mess out of yourself in front of them? Why had you let this blown over?

You retracted slowly from your mother’s hold, wiping your tears before running the opposite way from where Jake had gone to. It was better if you left instead.

mauve here! finally done writing this after racking my head for weeks. wanted it to be relatable (??) as much as possible, idk why. there is just something therapeutic w writing about your past issues <3 but i hope this one's alright!!! really excited to finally post this heheh

lots of kisses!

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lordofthescrolls · 5 months ago

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Sweven (Adar x Elf reader)

Rating: Angst | Fluff

Summary: You did Sauron’s bidding because of a promise he made and when he was killed by Adar you were left with nothing… Or so you thought.

You didn’t know how long you had been kept in this prison, but you grew used to the dark, the lack of flames from torches you grew so accustomed to while living in the mountain. Now you were casted to the cold stones beneath Sauron’s chambers all because you had given him what you had promised… Power.

And you waited like any good servant would for his promise in return… One he did not give… Yet. You would constantly remind yourself. He will keep his promise, he will.

“My children told me there was one prisoner who refused to die.” A voice you have heard countless of times since you were taken, “Iston i nîf gîn.” He said. I know your face.

You knew his as well. You would admire him from a far as you both served Sauron in your own ways, never speaking to one another, but always there. You grew curious of the once elf now forged by darkness itself and created into a creature of the shadows.

It was his voice that intrigued you the most as it was the only thing you could truly hold onto here. A gruff and sad voice that you would hear in your dreams sometimes when the nights got too cold or the loneliness settled deep in your bones… Not that you would ever share that secret with anyone.

“I am an elf. Malnourishment does not kill me… You should be aware of that yourself… Elf.” You muttered quietly, your voice scratchy from the lack of use.

“Uruk.” He corrected you.

“Has… Sauron forgiven me?” You whispered brokenly as you blinked up at him, “I—” You coughed, “I did not mean to fail him. I swear. I didn’t have enough… I can try again. I can do better. Please tell him I can do better.” Your pleas were only met by silence and you watched him cautiously as he passed you a mug filled with water.

“Sauron is gone.” He replied, stepping back as he watched you gulf down the water in barely a second.

Your heart fell at his words, “He will come back for me then.” You murmured, shackled to the stone wall, “We have a deal.”

“Will he?” There was amusement in his voice, “It has been months since he had you chained down here.”

Months? Your throat felt dry again and you looked down at the now empty cup in your hands. Had it really been that long? “He could be continuing his plan.” You pressed wanting to believe that your wish will be fulfilled, “Him being gone doesn’t mean anything. He will return.”

“He could be...” He retorted, his gaze trailing over the tattered dress that you had been left in, “Or he could be dead.”

“He is not.” You seethed, your gaze snapping back to his.

“He is.” His grin was barely reckognizable but it was there.

“Your lies do not sway me.” You looked away from him, “Sauron isn’t dead. He can’t be, he is—”

“I killed him myself.” He proclaimed and he watched you lunge at him, the only thing stopping you was your chain.

“You…” Your breath caught in your throat as the first feeling that filled your chest was pure happiness. The joy that your master was finally gone and that you were free to do whatever you wished… To leave even, but then the loss settled in as you realized your wish would never be fulfilled. You would be left yearning for an eternity all because of a stupid elf.

“How could you.” You growled out as you slammed your fist into the ground, “Traitor!” You screamed at him, yelling profanities as he stood by and waited for you to calm down. You fell to your knees and began to weep not for your master, but for yourself. For the loss of a gift you so desperately wanted.

Adar crouched in front of you, looking down at you as if you were some wounded animal, “I have seen you in passing, always at his side. Never spoke a word, never showed emotion, always there… What did you do for him?”

“I healed him… Made him stronger…” You muttered broken as you recalled all those countless nights, brewing herbs in teas, using the magic you possessed to grow his power.

“And what did he offer you?” He asked gently as if trying to coax a wounded doe. That is what he deemed you were, a fragile doe left in a raging storm.

Your lips curled back as a grim expression took your face. Your tears falling freely as you cried in frustration and grief. You worked so very hard to please him and now here you were back to where you started… With nothing.

“I couldn’t…” Your throat tightened as you tried to speak through you cries, “I couldn’t have any… He promised he would fix me if I helped him… He promised and you took that from me!” Your anger grew as you lunged at him again, but he was quick and precise, always was with everything you have seen him do. He grabbed your wrist before you could fully swing at him and you felt yourself break in defeat as you sobbed.

“What did I take from you?” He asked again. His voice was low and gentle, his curiosity now growing.

“A family.” You replied barely above a whisper cursing the vacant womb you were blessed with since you were created, “All I wanted was a family.” Your voice broke.

He allowed you to pull your wrist free from his grasp and watched as you curled yourself into a ball, burying your face in your knees to hide your shame. Adar’s words seem to fail him in that moment as he looked at the broken elf maiden. He expected many answers to slip from your soft lips, but not that… Not when it was so close to the wish that he sought out for. The one that was granted when he was given his children. It was an answer that made him reach for your shackles and setting you free.

Your cries turned into sniffles as you felt the weight of the metal leave your ankles and you peaked up at him with hesitant curiosity.

“Are you hungry?” He asked in a gentle voice that was as rough as the stone you were used to sleeping against.

You didn’t answer with words, but a gentle nod of your head was all the confirmation he needed.

That was how you found yourself sitting at the stone table where Sauron used to dine. It was only on rare occasions that he would allow you to sit with him when he wanted to learn more about the slicers you created. You remember most nights however, you were left hungry because he was uninterested in your health. You were an elf, you only needed little to survive no matter how painful it was. Now the table was filled with orcs as they ate without fear of Sauron’s wrath.

“Why are you doing this?” You whispered sitting on Adar’s right as he sat at the head of the table. You had yet to touch your food and waited on his answer.

“He did not care for your wish as you thought he did. That is why he shackled you in such darkness after you provided no more use for him.” He explained as he took a sip of his wine.

“And you? Do you have use for me? Is that why I am up here?” You asked, accusing him of the same thing that Sauron had done.

“I am not him.” His reply was sharp as he stared at you, “I want nothing of you. You are free to leave now if you wish.”

You took in his words as you looked back to your plate. You could hear your stomach growl once the scent finally registered. You reached for the meat first and took a large bite as you contemplated on Adar’s words.

You were finally able to leave freely and that left excitement billowing in your chest, but it slowly fizzled away when you realized where would you even go? Who would want to take in a follower of Sauron? You thought and now your stomach filled with dread. They would kill you where you stood especially with the mark seared onto the back of your neck.

“Guren *glassui.”

It caught you off guard as you heard your mother language be spoken by the uruk sat across the table from you. It was clear he was speaking to you and everyone else continued with their conversation, everyone except for Adar who watched the interaction silently.

“You speak elvish? How?” You accused as your thoughts were scattered. It had been a long time since you were able to speak to anyone beside Sauron and even then it was only to agree to whatever he said. Your manners seem to evade you now as you pressed, “Thank you for what?” Was I being mocked? You weren’t sure.

This time the feast grew quiet as everyone listened in on your conversation. If uruk’s could blush you would see the poor uruk’s face turn bright red, “I asked Lord Adar to teach me your elvish words of thank you.”

Oh… Your gaze softened as you looked at him, “Why would you want to know my language?” You asked, but this time your tone was gentler.

“I was hurt badly… I would have died if not for your healing magic. That is why I thank you.” He explained, a shy expression overtaking his face.

“Ah…” Your voice trailed off in surprise.

You came to realize over the years you’ve been captive under Sauron’s hand that Uruk’s weren’t evil beings… Just forced to do bad things. This particular uruk, you vaguely remember helping one night while passing by the less then salvageable infirmary…

“You’re welcome.” You nodded towards the uruk, “I am glad that you survived. You did well. You all did well, truly.”

Your words seemed to brighten his and his siblings moods as the celebration continued in full. The dinning room and the rest of the mountain was filled with cheers as they celebrated their victory. Soon enough it was just you and Adar who were left at the table.

Your plate was wiped cleaned as you subtly looked for more food.

He noticed this and pushed his plate towards you, “Here.”

Your face heated up, “I couldn’t, that’s yours.”

“I’m not that hungry. Go ahead and eat before one of my children steal it from you.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were eating the rest of his meal, your stomach finally happy from being filled.

Adar watched you with mild humor and his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his seat, “Have you decided what you will do?”

You wiped your mouth with your sleeve after you drank your wine. You looked towards him a small frown on your lips, “I don’t think I can go anywhere… Not with who I am… What I’ve done… I have nothing left.” You looked at the table, “He took my old life from me.”

“But not your new one.” Adar responded and you waited for him to continue as you leaned back to stare up at the stone ceiling, “You have everything to look forward to and experience.”

“But where? Who would possibly take me in when I have a mark of evil on my neck.” You spoke in frustration.

“I would.”

It was barely a whisper, but it had you sitting up to face him fully, “What?”

“I would take you. As you are. Right now.” He repeated, clear and sure this time.

“Even if I offer nothing to you?” You muttered quietly.

Adar nodded and stood from his seat, “You wouldn’t need to do anything you don’t want to.” He looked down at you with a softness in his gaze, “You could stay with my children and I.” He looked away for a moment.

It was then that he held his hand out for you to take if you wanted too as he continued, “We are not welcome in that world, but when we find our home it can be your home too… If you wish.”

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment with entirety of emotions swirling in your chest. Fear, gratitude, anxiety… Care… This was the most you felt in a very long time and it was him… The silent brooding elf… Uruk making you feel.

His hand felt warm as you took it, a redness brushing against your cheeks as he pulled you up to stand.

“Thank you.” You whispered quietly as you looked up at him, “For offering me a home.”

“Always.”

It was a year later when you were curled up under Adar’s arm and covered by furs that kept you both warm. You breathed in his scent and listened to his slowed heartbeat as you tried to fall asleep with him, but something felt different tonight. It was only when listening to the laughter of his children that you have grown attached to just outside of your shared tent that you realized in some twisted way Sauron had given you the dream you desired… You finally had a family.

#lord of the rings imagine #adar imagine #adar x reader #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #rings of power #the rings of power #adar rings of power #adar #adar trop

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sara-roz · 4 months ago

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They are only at €66,072 out of €100,000 goal

I've donated €30, so please match me if you can and reblog with a screenshot ‼️ Let's keep going‼️

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(drawing above by @/anonymous ), On the occasion of his young son Yamen's birthday anniversary.

Dina's daughter, Ronza, is not even four months old, yet she suffers from malnutrition after spending her short life in the midst of war. Yamen, five years old, is also struggling with illnesses and malnutrition due to the harsh conditions. There is no greater nightmare for any father than to see his children starving and sick, unable to do anything to help. Please help Dina save his children and bring them to safety. Every child deserves security and nourishment, and you can be the hope that rescues Ronza and Yamen, giving them the childhood they deserve, far from the sound of bombs.

Their Husband Ahmed suffers from a severe herniated disc that prevents him from moving normally or holding his children in his arms. Additionally, he has another illness that he refuses to disclose, which only adds to his suffering. In Gaza, the medical resources available for his treatment are inadequate, and every day that passes without proper care increases his pain and the anxiety his family endures. He urgently needs to receive treatment and travel abroad before his condition worsens further. Your assistance in raising funds means not just alleviating his pain but saving a father who is desperately trying to remain by his children's and family's side. Don't let this family, who has already endured so much loss, also lose their father, husband, and sole support.

Dina has shown me pictures of the explosion near them, and thankfully, they managed to escape in time. Every day they spend in Gaza puts their lives at risk from Israeli bombs. Every day and hour counts. I know there are compassionate and kind people willing to help. Every euro helps, and your donation will bring them one step closer to safety. With love and hope, I ask you to give what you can. I believe in the kindness of people in this world, and I beg you not to let his family die. If you can’t donate, please share this message so it may reach those who can help.

Never forget that palestinians are not numbers on a list of deaths. Please think of each of them, think of their names and faces and know that you can help them. I think of them every day. I think of the hopes and dreams they should achieve, I think of their education, their future, and the love they show when they work hard every day to get help. You may feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you have the power to save Dina and his family.

I dream that the day will come soon where they may use their days to rest and recover from what they’ve been through, where they can share a meal and laugh and the children will play, instead of having to use their time to beg the world to listen and help them. We can make this possible.

9,000 euros is a lot of money for one person to give, but for all of us together, it can be done. Please don’t look away.

Thank you for reading their story. Please don’t keep scrolling without sharing

Here is the link again for their fundraiser

tagging for reach:

@90-ghost @heritageposts @tamamita @neechees @valtsv @fluoresensitive @khanger @autisticmudkip @beserkerjewel @furiousfinnstan @xinakwans @batekush @appsa @nerdyqueerr @butchsunsetshimmer @biconicfinn @stopmotionguy @willgrahamscock @ot3 @strangeauthor @pcktknife @legallybrunettedotcom @lautakwah @sovietunion @evillesbianvillain @antibioware @akajustmerry @dizzymoods @ree-duh @neptunerings @explosionshark @dlxxv-vetted-donations @vague-humanoid @buttercuparry @greetings-fiends @malcriada @turtletoria @northgazaupdates2 @feluka @dirhwangdaseul @officialspec @ibtisams @sawasawako @memingursa @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @toesuckingoctober @sabertoothwalrus

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sweetbonniebel · 7 months ago

Text

Jaes's hen jēdar

God's of the sky

Thirteen

Daemon x reader

Summary: Aegon turns sixteen, Rhaenyra arrives at bloodstone.

Masterlist <-previous , next->

123 AC

You caressed your slightly firm tummy as you stared at your reflection. Your thin linen gown allowed you to see your body. You sighed and turned around arriving at your desk. Various papers, inks. scrolls laid scattered on the piece of wood. A single candle illuminated the side of your face as you went over the books.

The island’s income is getting better with every month. Merchants now know that they will not be attacked by rouge pirates or scavengers. Trade boomed, the ports grew like mushrooms after rain.

But for your husband it was not enough. Well with seven children and five grown dragons things were not steep. The castle was still being built, chambers, dungeons, cellars all the works were added. Daemon demanded a castle as grand as the Red Keep but more fortified. You then questioned your brother.

“Why do we need such a large castle? There is only a handful of us. We do not hold court even.”

“We are Targaryens we deserve nothing but the best.” He simply answered. You chuckled at his words, but he was honest in his determination. The castle grew each month, builders, masons, artists were employed.

“What are you reminiscing about?” Daemon asked entering your private chambers. “You were not abed in our chambers.”

“I had to go over the spending and income.” You answered pointing to the heavy tome in front of you.

“You can do that all later, or at all.” He mused walking behind you. He placed a kiss at the nape of your neck, leaning over the chair. You leaned into his touch sighing quietly. “You should be resting.”

“I am fine, Daemon. ‘Tis not the first time I am doing this.” You swatted away his worries.

“Many women in my life fell to childbirth. My aunts, my mother and Laena. I simply do not wish to see you in pain.”

“While I thank you for your worries, husband. I am perfectly capable of caring for myself. I have before, I shall do it now.” You answered beginning to scribble with a quill. “You should have faith in me, Daemon.”

“I have nothing but faith, but childbirth is not something you or anyone else can control.”

“Hmm.” You agreed and rolled your shoulders.

“How is she?” He questioned after a moment of silence. His large, warm palm pressed against your flat but slightly firm tummy. That indicated life.

“She’s fine. Makes me feel tired and nauseous but she’s fine.”

“How will we name her?”

“I haven’t thought about it, have you?”

“…I have.”

“And? What did you come up with?”

“Perhaps Alyssa after my mother, or Gael after your mother.”

“I do not like naming my children after other people, Baelon of course being the exception.”

“Why is that?” He questioned curiously.

“I think that… names posses a certain power. Our names affect us, they add to our personality. What happened when you name a child after a man who was brutally murdered or a woman who turned insane. It just it seems weird to me. Especially the name Aegon.”

“Aegon? What’s wrong with that.”

“I believe the conqueror’s names are cursed, but more so the name Aegon.”

“Why?”

“Aegon the first is the patriarch of our house. He launched us into greatness, without him we still would be on dragon stone. No future Aegon will ever amount to his greatness, they cannot. No matter how hard they try. And each Aegon gets a worse faith than the last."

"How is that?"

"Aegon, Aenys's son was slain by Balerion. He was hated by the realm. Jaehaerys's and Alysanne's Aegon died in the cradle, your brother Aegon also died in the cradle."

"And what about this Aegon?" Daemon questioned.

"He is the son that Viserys so desired, only to throw him away after his birth, focusing only on Rhaenyra. Hated by his mother for being a reminder of the youth that was stripped from her. I want him to be happy, but I know his life will be filled with hardships."

Daemon nodded and silence fell between the two of you. You continued to scribe in the books as your husband watched you work.

"You never told me what happen in Dorne." The rogue prince said breaking the silence. You sighed and put the quill away.

"Because it would be treason." You simply answered.

"Treason? Now you piqued my interest, do pray tell."

"The man that poisoned Darren was hired by a man that served in the red keep. He said he was wearing green, the Queen's colours. The servant girl that delivered the poison is from some village near Old Town. I went to the maester's chambers, herbs used for making essence of Nightshade laid scattered through the shelves."

"You do not suggest it is that green's snake doing?" Daemon muttered. "But why? She's as pious as one can be. I think it is against her religion to kill a child."

"Isn't it obvious?" You questioned raising and eyebrow at him "She attacked my eldest son, as I have taken her eldest away from her. It is revenge."

"Otto would never allow it. I hate the cunt be he is clever."

"But you forget that Alicent is Queen, higher than the hand. Perhaps a fe years ago she wouldn't even take a breath if her father told her so. But now, she's a woman, a Queen and an anchor for the faith. She has loyal supporters."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"...I don't know, attacking her would be stupid. Demanding justice, stupid. She would just deny and accuse us of treason, we have to bide our time and gather more evidence."

"I'll see to it."

You nodded and watched your husband leave. You released the breath you were holding. What if Alicent truly meant to kill your son, will she stop after the first attempt or continue. Are any of your children safe?

You heard the door open once more.

"I will join you soon, Daemon." You muttered focusing on the heavy tome in front of you.

"Is it true?" You immediately raised your gaze to find Aegon standing before you. Fists balled up in anger. "Is my mother responsible for what happened to Darren."

"Aegon-" You stood up and took a careful step towards him.

"Tell me!" He raised his voice, you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"I believe so..." A beat of silence passed.

"I have to go back." He stated suddenly.

"What?" You stalked towards him, you took his cheeks into your palms.

"She won't stop trying to hurt your family as long as I'm with here, and not with her."

"You are my family Aegon." You reasoned

"It's my fault Darren is hurt."

"That's nonsense, sweet boy. You are not responsible for your parent's actions. No child is."

"But I'm not a child am I? I'm a man now, I cannot hide behind your skirts hoping you'll fix my messes." Aegon lamented.

"Aegon, this is not your fault." You mused caressing his wavy hair.

"I have to go, I'll send a letter to my mother saying that I'll return to King's Landing." He stated "When they come for my name day celebration I'll return with them."

"You'll always have a place in my home, Aegon."

"I- thank you." He stiffly said and left your chambers.

...

Aegon stalked the halls searching for the familiar path that led him to Darren's room. He stopped at the foot of the door, his hand raised to knock. But he decided to enter unannounced.

The dark haired teen laid motionlessly in his bed. A duvet covered half his body. Aegon sat at the food of the bed, he sighed deeply and placed his head in his hands.

Darren stirred startling the Targaryen prince.

"Aegon?" Darren groggily asked seeing the familiar silhouette. "What are you doing here?"

"I- " He tried to form the words but nothing left his lips. Instead tears begun to pool in the corner of his violet eyes.

"Aegon what's wrong." Darren threw the covers off his body and sat next to Aegon, shoulders touching.

"I'm going back." The older boy finally said.

"Back where?" Oblivious, the Martell Prince asked.

"To King's Landing."

"What?" He breathlessly said. "No... No you promised you'll stay with me."

"You think I don't want to?" Aegon raised his voice and stared at the Dornish Prince before him, tears cascaded down his pale cheeks. "But it's my fault you're like this."

"How is my poisoning your fault?"

"It's my mothers doing."

"So it's not your fault then." Aegon widened his eyes.

"You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you? Sure I'm mad I almost died but it's not because of you."

"Alicent won't stop trying to hurt you, or your siblings until I come back."

"And who said that?"

"It's obvious, Darren. She's mad that I was "taken" from her, so she's trying to get revenge on your mother by hurting you."

Darren chuckled, falling backwards onto the bed. Aegon joined him, his silver curls forming a halo. Darren found Aegon's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"I don't want to go, Darren." Aegon cried staring at the ceiling, tapestries of myths displayed in front of him.

"I know." The boy mused caressing, the olders palm with his thumb.

"But I have to, for your safety."

"Hmm." Darren sighed turning to stare at Aegon's profile.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I don't know when will be the next time I'll get to see you like this. I want to memorise your face." Aegon blushed slightly. "Will you be okay?"

Aegon turned to stare at Darren's dark eyes.

"I'll have Sunfyre, I'll be fine."

"If you wish you'll always have a place at my court." Darren proposed.

"Your mother said the same thing."

"I am like my mother aren't I?"

"It's a good thing, you're courageous, caring and clever. y/n raised you well."

"She raised you as well, that means you're also good. A bit quiet but smart, brave like a dragon and handsome too." Darren teased, Aegon pushed him slightly as the younger laughed.

…

“Raise the chandelier higher.” You ordered standing in the middle of the ball room. The preparations for Aegon’s name day were hard to organize. The whole court along with other nobles will arrive any day now.

“Your highness which cloth should be placed over the tables.” You stared at the three different types of cloth the servant was holding. You pointed to the one of your choosing.

“I see you’re hard at work.” Daemon entered the hall. He placed a kiss to your lips and caressed your growing belly.

“Hmm.” You hummed and turned to coordinate to preparations. “I cannot wait to entertain all those nobles I hated as a child.”

“If you need me to cut out their tongues, just call me.”

“No matter how pleasing that sound I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.” You chuckled.

“The offer still stands if you wish.”

You heard dragon roars outside the castle. The familiar high pitched clicking of Syrax put a smile on your face. At least Rhaenyra will be here to accompany you.

“It seems we have guests.” Daemon said hearing the same.

“Yes, let’s go to the pit. Talya!” You shouted searching for the maid in charge of your children.

“Yes, your highness?”

“Please gather the children.” The maid dressed in a white hair covering bowed and scurried off. “I’ll go find Darren.”

Daemon nodded and went his way, you departed to climb the many stairs leading to the part of the castle that contained chambers.

You entered Darren’s chambers quickly and quietly. To your surprise you found Aegon in bed with him, the two sleeping. You sighed deeply and sat at the corner of the bed. Is this why they were so awkward with each other? But they seem at peace now.

You placed a hand on Darren’s shoulder and shook him gently. He awoke and yawned.

“Hello mother.” He simply said and continued to doze off. Aegon on the other hand shot up from the bed.

“Uh, a-aunt.” Aegon muttered covering his eyes with his hands.

“Good morrow Aegon.” You smiled and stood up walking over to the heavy wardrobe and pulling out garments for your eldest son. “Get up you two, freshen up and dress. Rhaenyra will be arriving soon.”

“I- Y-You’re not mad?” Aegon whispered. Darren stirred and sat up.

“Mad? Why would I be mad?” You questioned throwing Darren’s clothes at him, he mumbled a thank you mother and went to dress. Aegon stared in surprise at Darren.

“Well I-… Um I and Darren?” He stumbled over his words.

“Oh that? I suspected for quite some time." You admitted, Aegon paled. "Now get up and get dressed, guests will be arriving soon."

The two scurried away preparing for the welcome feast and a week of celebration.

You walked through the halls, various sculptures, tapestries and paintings hung from the walls. Torches illuminated and heated the cold stoney walls. Handmaidens, servants, cooks, butchers and others stalked through the castle, preparing chambers, food and cleaning the whole premises. You sighed and rubbed your belly.

Baela and Rhaena along with Nymor and the nursemaids that held your younglings were already awaiting your presence. The only left was Daemon, Darren and Aegon.

You brushed a loose strand of short hair from Baela’s cheek. She huffed at the pestering.

“Do I have to wear this?” She pointed to the teal dress with myrish lace and ruffles.

“Only for a short time, Baela. Then you can change into whatever you like.” You mused and walked over to Rhaena. She wore a soft pink gown with gold trimmings. Her long hair was half up and half down, a slight blush covered her cheeks.

“You look spledning, Rhaena.” You nodded at her, her twin snickered.

“It’s all for Luke no doubt.” She chuckled, Rhaena opened her mouth and then closed it, spewing a weak shut up.

“Do not pick on your sister.” Daemon approached and scolded the elder girl. Baela sunk in her position and nodded begrudgingly.

The gates opened to reveal three sets of carriages. The horses neigh and stomped their hooves. The knights riding ahead halted.

“Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, the heir to the iron throne!” One of her banner men shouted. The small family begun to pour out of the stuffy carriage.

Rhaenyra sighed in relief as she glanced at the castle, her three sons followed suit and stood next to her.

The whole courtyard bowed before the princess of the realm, the heir quickly walked towards the gates.

“Princess, what an honor it is for you to grace us with your presence.” You bowed, a smirk played on your lips. Rhaenyra scoffed and motioned with her hand for you to stand. “It is good to see you.” You engulfed Rhaenyra in your arms, the younger woman returned the gesture.

“Rhaenyra.” Daemon approached taking her ringed hand and placing a kiss on her palm.

“Uncle.” She responded, her eyes fell towards your children. “And how have you all grown.”

You chuckled and took the heir by her arm “Come I am sure you are tired from your journey.”

…

“I have heard of what happened to Darren.” Rhaenyra said once you were comfortable in the sanctity of her chambers. “Terrible.”

“Yes… but he’s fine now.” You agreed.

“Are you not going to seek justice?”

“What do you propose I do? Fly to King’s Landing and demand the execution of the Queen?” You rubbed your temple “Time will come.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Rhaenyra sighed and reached for an empty goblet. She poured herself the sweet Dornish wine and took a sip.

“Now, what is this urgent business you had to tell me of?” You questioned.

“My father has proposed me a seat on the council.” She said.

“As hand?”

“As regent…I suppose it is your doing.” The Violet eyed woman mused. She took a seat next to you.

“Partially.” You admitted “Your father is sick, he does not sit the throne. Why would his hand rule in his steed when he has an appointed heir.”

“I am grateful for what you’ve done, but I’m not going to.” Her words shocked you, your eyes widened as you took in her features.

“Why?” Your voice came out a bit harsh, startling Rhaenyra.

“I do not wish to spend another moment in that vipers den, along with her. And my sons do not want to either.”

“You cannot be such a fool Rhae.” You demanded. “An opportunity of power is laid on a silver platter and you cast it aside over a squabble?”

“It is not a squabble-“ Rhaenyra protested but you silenced her.

“Whatever happened between you and Alicent was years ago. You are the heir but that does not do much. Viserys has a son and there are lords who will petition for him to be King instead of you. You must prevent this in the earliest stage of development .”

“And becoming regent will do that?” She questioned her brows furrowed.

“Of course! You’ll hold more power than the hand, you will show the realm you’re its rightful Queen. And when Viserys dies you will be there to inherit the crown.”

The realms delight sighed and sunk into her seat.

“After all these years of hoping for a son and failing he noticed me and named me heir. Defying custom and tradition. But now when he do gets a son he casts him aside. Fate is a funny thing isn’t it?”

You hummed agreeing.

“I wanted to visit you and introduce you to a person I hold dear to my heart.” Rhaenyra said after a moment of silence.

“Is he here?” You questioned knowing who she was speaking of. She nodded. “And what is your plan? Will you marry him? Name him Prince consort?”

“I do not know. Not now anyway.” She admitted “He makes me feel loved and appreciated. He likes the boys and is a good father figure to them.”

“But he’s Essosi.” You finished for her. “He has Valyrian blood, maybe it could be a pretext.”

“Maybe.”

…

<-previous , next->

Taglist:

@nessjo

@deltamoon666

@whoisviolett

#aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #viserys targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targeryan #rhaenyra targeryan

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amoreva · 1 year ago

Note

Dark Luke Castellan hijacking the reader, I can't deal with the end of the series.

WHAT IS LOVE?

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: was it love if he did it for you? for a better future? the gods were his enemy, but he wanted you by his side away from harm.

warnings: during luke’s betrayal, angst, ooc luke

a/n: tbh i had no idea how to write dark!luke castellan, so i kind of wrote him kind of desperate and insane and a lot neglected because of the situation and kronos manipulating him.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

“Luke. What?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Luke is holding your hands. You thought he’d took you into the forest to makeout (maybe more), but no. He was asking you the unthinkable, the impossible.

To join him. To join him side by side with Kronos the Titan.

At first you’re in denial. “Don’t joke like that.” An awkward giggle emitted from your lips. “You shouldn’t tell that joke to Percy. He almost met him.”

Luke squeezed your hands. A firework exploded behind him, allowing you to see the details of his face. Your stomach churned. Luke’s eyes are missing that warmth and affection he always had.

In its place is determination and power. “Come with me.” He asked again, firmer this time.

Your smile dropped. This the same Luke that gave you his dessert at dinner, right? The same Luke that held you when nightmares felt real?The same Luke that told you he loved you? Right.

You were willing to forget this, put it behind you like nothing ever happened. He probably hit his head or had a really really bad nightmare. “We should get you checked out, hm?”

“Nothing is wrong with me.” Luke said and unsheathed Backbiter. He let go of your hands. Luke wouldn’t hurt you, would he? Another firework, Backbiter gleamed in the pink. “Let’s go.”

“Luke, you can’t possible believe—”

“Kronos has opened my eyes!”

You flinched. His interruption scared you. “He showed me the gods treat their children like pawns, like shit. Me! You! Will, Silena…Thalia, even Percy!” You wince at the mention of your late friend. “I should’ve known. Ever since I saw my poor excuse for a dad—I’m not getting used anymore. I don’t want you to get used anymore.”

“I don’t want you—us to keep getting neglected because of our parents. We don’t deserve it.” Luke pleaded, trying to open your eyes in a new light.

“What makes joining Kronos any better?” You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing against his scar. The same scar that reminded him of how little the gods cared.

Instead of softening up to your touch and leaned in, he was still, tense. “I would be the son of a Titan—a Titan who sees me for who I am!”

“Luke…” You said softly and held his face. His eyes flickered, they glistened with moisture as he listened to you. It was like he was still there. “I don’t know—I don’t know what you got yourself into, but—for fucks sake snap out of it!”

“Do you hear yourself?” You asked.

The twinkle in your boyfriend’s eyes died out as if he was reminding himself of his purpose, his quest for Kronos. He stepped back from you. Daunting questions weighing in your head.

“Were you the one…that released the hellhound after Capture the Flag?” You asked, putting the pieces together.

“Yes.”

“You tried to kill Percy—Luke…you have to know that is so fucked up!”

“The gods are my enemy!” Luke shouted and gripped your arms. He looked you in the eyes. “You…you are still my sweet, sweet, naive girlfriend—you don’t get it now…but know this is all to protect you, protect us from harm, war.”

“Naive?” Your eyes widened. That was the only part you got out of it.

“Yes—no. Not naive! Fuck!” Luke huffed in frustration and ran his fingers through his chocolate curls. “Just…just—come with me—either way, I’m not leaving you when war breaks out.”

“Stop it.” Your heart was breaking into two, seeing like this. It looked like he was battling with himself, in his head. Tears brimming your eyes.

You hesitated to help him, your hands hovering close like he was delicate animal. He straightened up and brushed his hair back.

“I have to recruit, Percy. Last chance, babe—” Babe. It sounded so wrong coming from his lips now, especially now.

His once charming smile replaced with one filled with hidden insanity, pseudo. It was like he was cracking. Cracking under pressure. Cracking under time. Cracking under stress, sympathy, anger, revenge—all of it.

You don’t know how he got here, how Kronos fucked with his head so bad that he was breaking. It hurt you, hurt you more than you thought you would. A part of you wanted to keep refusing, get Luke the help he needed.

The other part; to join him. Join him, but not to join the cause. Join him and help him soothe him, him and battles with his own head. To make sure he was okay and completely sane for choosing this.

Yet an answer refused to leave your mouth. You were speechless. Tears rolling down your cheeks at the situation. The entirety of true situation felt overwhelming. Either way you couldn’t lose Luke.

This was love, right?

To feel be so conflicted with your emotions and decisions, but wanting your partner to be safe and okay from whatever being had his mind captive.

To wanting to get revenge on the Greek gods and goddesses, but you couldn’t allow your partner to get caught in the crossfire.

In both of your own ways, Luke and you still cared and loved each other dearly and it would never stop.

Luke sighed. “Don’t cry, baby.” He wiped your tears and pressed a kiss to your forehead (one that really felt like it was him).

Your body felt weak, vision fading in and out. You didn’t notice, but you felt a pressure on your carotid arteries. “Luke—”. You blacked out and he caught you in his arms.

“Just sleep. We’ll be there soon, with or without Percy.”

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #percy pjo #percy series

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biapascal · 3 months ago

Note

Hi lovely!! I saw you’re taking reqs for Oberyn and I feel like he’s not shown enough LUV!!

What if Oberyn is infatuated with female reader and tries to win her over, but she plays hard to get and OBERYN loves the chase. Eventually winning her over and he’s super romantic 😭🥰🫶🏼🩷

The lion and the viper.

Hello love! Thanks for your request 🤎🕯️🪶 I wrote this right away because today was a lazy day and Oberyn is probably one of my favorite Pedro's characters. I love writing about him! <3

Hope you enjoy 💋

Tw: Elia is still alive or didn’t die at all ( You pick the timeline lmao ) angsty

Tyrion's birth was a tragic event. Tywin Lannister was the father of a cruel joke of nature. Jaime and Cersei were in symbiosis, and the man wanted another heir. On the day of your birth, when the nurse had shown you to your father, he turned away in disappointment, refusing to hold you: you were a girl. You’ve inherited the golden locks of the Lannisters and the elegance of the lion your family has identified with for centuries.

In Casterly Rock, you heard your relatives clamor for power while your heart yearned for other things. The roar of the lion didn't belong to you. There were people who took care of your clothes, your appearance, but no one showed you affection, especially not your father. Every day you saw your sister Cersei, she hated you, according to her you were a lamb to slaughter and seeing your tears gave her a sense of power over you, she had always craved it. You saw how close she and Jaime were, the way he touched her, the unfamiliar words you heard, it was disturbing. Jaime wasn't like her, he was kinder, but whenever Cersei caught him being nice to you, she got mad. She was capable of ruining you. When you were a child, she destroyed your favorite doll, then she started beating you. Your father didn't do anything because he was proud that one of his children knew how to keep other people in their place, which he felt was what a ruler should do. While you were a lamb with an open heart surrounded by lions, your brother Tyrion was called the imp. The two of you were close and understood each other. You had to seek comfort in art, the only tool that could make you forget how painful life was in your household. You quickly learned to paint, sing and write to relieve stress through the ink. As adulthood approached, things got even harder. The day you bleeded for the first time, Cersei made sure to frighten you by telling you that now that you were finally able to carry a child, you were ready to be used by any man who wanted to. She frightened you with stories of the crimson between your legs and the feeling of losing what was supposed to be yours: "You will be in pain only for their pleasure. Hope that your children will be healthy, they will be the only thing you care about in this world. Many people will try to destroy your family and you will not be able to protect them.”

Your body was ready for other people, but you weren't. You never knew love and didn't even believe in it. As the sun was setting and the sky was changing its bright tone, you were walking through the crowded street. The good thing about being different from your family was that people didn't hate you. They thought you were nice, and you learned a lot from them. While walking you noticed unfamiliar faces. You had never seen guards dressed like this before; their clothes were bright, reflecting the faint light of the setting sun. A woman was with them, her brown hair was long and wavy, falling to her elegantly tanned shoulders. She wore showy jewelry, and her eyes were sweet, but her gaze was intense. There was a man next to her, also dressed in a bright robe and charming, seemingly sure of himself. “Elia and Oberyn Martell” you heard. You knew those names. Oberyn looked at her sister. "Are you tired? The journey was long” Elia nodded. "Yes, brother, but we should be close to the castle. " Oberyn noticed you and smiled. You didn't like that smile. You didn't even know him, but you could tell a polite smile from a malicious one. They approached you and you noticed the man looking at you with interest. "Elia, what a surprise, we met the Lannister lamb." He made you feel vulnerable. Your cheeks burned and you tried to collect yourself, remembering that no one was going to rescue you. "If you need to go to the castle, I am on my way home” your voice was firm. Elia pulled a tuft of blond hair from your face and you stood still in embarrassment. "Sorry dear, you have such a pretty face..." she looked at her brother. "Yes, she is indeed pretty" he agreed. Oberyn and Elia needed to talk to your father about some political issues you weren't aware of. Seeing the way the prince looked at you, Cersei smiled and approached you. "Little sister, do you know what they call him?" You shook your head and she chuckled. "Of course you don't. They call him the Red Viper, he's a master with poisons” you nodded as you looked at Tywyn talking to the foreigners. Cersei didn't frighten you, you've heard of many men murdering people and starting wars because of it. "Well, you saw the way he looked at you” you looked at her and crossed your arms. "He's always looking for a woman to keep his bed warm and I think he chose you this time, little sister” that was scary. You bit your lip and walked away, tired of your sister.

In a few days at Casterly Rock, more lords arrived, and Oberyn never took his eyes off you, smiling as if he knew something you ignored, and it made you nervous. You tried to distract yourself by composing, but the noise in your head kept you from concentrating. One night there was a feast. The men enjoyed the wine and the women let them have their fun while you concentrated on the food and tried to ignore the chaos around you. You weren't proud of yourself because you felt you weren't acting like a woman, you still had the same insecurities of a child. You noticed that Oberyn, as comfortable as he was in his own home, was sitting with a woman on his lap. He noticed you staring at him and waved. You felt the fork in your hand tremble and put it down, then stood. You looked for a quieter place to be alone and went to the window. The stars shone through the night without talking, and it was beautiful. You spent some time there, thinking about how you needed to change, then you felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped. Oberyn was there, looking for you. The palm of his hand was warm and you pushed it away from your shoulder. "Prince Oberyn" you greeted him politely. "You're not enjoying the party?" You looked at him impassively. "No. I'm not." You replied, your tone cold. Oberyn shook his head and sighed. "It pains me to see such a beautiful woman as you, my lady, uncomfortable in her own home" you bowed your head. "I understand you like wine and pretty women who offer their bodies to you" you said with a fake smile on your face. "If you like that, go to a brothel." his smile faded and you walked away, leaving him alone. Over the next few days, Oberyn showed you how stubborn he could be; you thought about him often, you couldn't lie to yourself by saying you didn't like the attention he gave you, but you couldn't let him trick you. You remembered Cersei's words and minded your own business until one day. The scent of flowers stimulated your mind, and you were often sent to the garden to write. You heard the waves of the sea and felt the cool air on your skin: it was a beautiful day. Then you saw him, writing in one of your favorite places. You remained silent, watching him. There was something about the dedication he gave to his work that made you feel, in a way, you never felt before.

"Little lamb" he looked at you. "Please don't call me that, I find it offensive" he frowned. "I apologize, but may I ask why you find this name offensive?" you hesitated, then sighed. "It makes me feel weak. My family calls me that because I'm weak." you replied. It was painful, but it was the truth. He put the feather down. "I don't call you that because you are weak. I call you that because you look gentle, your heart seems to be soft, something you should be proud of". You raised an eyebrow. "How could you say that?" He chuckled. "I have heard of you, my lady, when people are good, they become known. Your family isn't the only one who has an opinion about you" you remained silent and looked at what he was writing. "What are you writing?" He smiled. "Poetry” he replied. He was a writer, he expressed emotions through art, just like you. "About what?" you were curious and wanted to read it. "Love” that was disappointing. He noticed the sparkle in your eyes fading. "What's wrong?" You shook your head. "It's silly, forget it" he insisted and you sighed. "Well, I don't think love exists. Maybe physical attraction exists, but if love exists, it leads to tragedy." To him it was nonsense. He became serious. "You believe that?" You nodded. He stood up and you felt a little intimidated. "I'm sorry, dear" he smiled softly. "For what?" you were confused. "For the fact that you had to believe that bullshit. It is true, love can lead to tragedy and that proves how strong it can be. Love helps humanity, it can help people find the strength to fight, it gives hope and even pleasure" he paused and you blushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry they made you believe that” you looked down and played with your gold rings. "Well, maybe I'm just not used to it” he caressed your cheek unexpectedly. "Yes. I think so” he was tender and you felt weak, but in a good way. "You write too, don't you, my lady? Please, let me read something”

Oberyn came from another dimension where there was no shame. You were attracted to him, and you could tell he wanted to take you, but you weren't ready. When Cersei noticed the two of you, you had to ignore her nasty comments.

It was the last night he would have spent with you before he left for Dorne. You were hurt, knowing that without him, you would have heard only your father's harsh words. You agreed to meet in the garden. You arrived with a smile on your face and hugged him. You were grateful and perhaps you were beginning to know love. "My dove” you looked at him, amused. "Another cutesy name for me?" You chuckled. He kissed your cheek and you enjoyed it but had to stop him when his hands began to wander. "Wait, not tonight” he seemed really helpless. "But you deserve this" you cupped his face with your hands. "Go back to Dorne, the next time we meet I'll be ready." While he was away, he sent you letters that showed that he was honest, that he really cared about you. When you met again, you knew you were in love, and as his boat left the shore, you allowed his lips to come close to your face. "You're lucky" you said before feeling the warmth of the kiss all the way to your stomach. "I know."

#oberyn x reader #prince oberyn #oberyn x you #oberyn martel x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #oberyn martell #oberyn nymeros martell

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imagine-you · 3 months ago

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I Will Avenge My Ghost [Bucky Barnes/Reader] (2/?)

Summary: Your sacrifice on Vormir was meant to be your end. You did it for love. You did it for family. And you had no regrets in your decision to be the one to jump instead of Steve. But you never expected to wake up in Wakanda and you certainly never thought that you would still lose Steve and your sister in the years since your death. While you can't get Steve back, you're determined to figure out what happened to your sister and you end up dragging Bucky along for the ride. Your questions lead you to Westview, a sleepy little town harboring a dark past, and a witch named Agatha Harkness. Will you find what you truly seek down, down, down the Witches' Road or will Death finally come to claim you?

Word Count: 3.8k

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who responded to the last chapter and showed this fic some love. Y'all kept me going. 💖

Chapter One //

Read on AO3

"She's dead," Stephen choked out once you loosened your grip enough to allow him to speak.

"Bullshit," you snapped, watching the way the darkness around him swirled, attempting to curl around your magic.

"Your sister was not the same person you remember,” he tried to claim, as if that would make any of it better for you.

“Then tell me,” you snarled, keeping him pinned to the wall with your magic. “Tell me what kind of person she was.”

Stephen seemed like he was hesitant to answer, but when you tightened your hold on him, he finally spoke. “She was consumed by her grief and she did terrible things because of it. She enslaved a town with her mind and created a whole reality for herself where she got to have a family with Vision and her children at the expense of innocent civilians. She let the Darkhold corrupt her, because she was looking for the children she created across the multiverse, and she nearly killed a girl just to steal her power. She was responsible for the deaths of countless others all while she was blinded by what the Darkhold had done to her. I tried to tell her that the children, well they never truly existed, but--" Stephen's words cut off with a croak when you lashed out again with your magic, preventing him from continuing.

"Children? Wanda had children? She had a family? With Vis?"

"They weren't real," Stephen gasped, his hands attempting to push away your magic and give himself enough space to protect himself, but you realized with a thrill that you were stronger. "She created them with her magic."

"That's what every mother does," you muttered, not sure where the words had come from, but knowing that it was true. It had been a whisper at the back of your mind. A forgotten memory rushing up to greet you.

Stephen looked haunted for a moment, his skin paling at the words. "What did you say?"

"It doesn't matter how she made them, because they're real. She made them real," you refuted with a quick shake of your head, ignoring Stephen's question. "My sister deserved a family. She didn't deserve whatever happened to her. And I refuse to believe she's really gone." She couldn't be. Not after the second chance you had been given.

"Wanda died at Wundagore when she destroyed all copies of the Darkhold," Stephen continued, watching you warily as you got closer to him.

You were listening to Stephen, but keeping your focus on the darkness around him. It was still trying to twine itself to your magic and you likened it to a pest that would never go away unless you did something about it.

"It was her penance for what she did while under its influence," Stephen managed to get out before you tightened your hold on him again, cutting off his words.

"Should we be stopping her? I feel like we should do something," Sam whispered to the others.

"Not yet," Shuri responded. "I'd like to see where this is going."

"And what of your penance, Stephen?" You wondered, tilting your head to the side as you considered him.

"What?" He asked, gasping in a deep breath when you finally let him go.

You had seen enough and heard enough from Strange to know what you had to do.

"You used the Darkhold, didn't you?" You accused, watching him for his reaction.

His eyes widened just the slightest, finally showing just the briefest glimpse of true uneasiness. "How did you know that?"

"Because it corrupted you," you hissed at him, leaning forward again and caging him in by placing a hand on either side of his head. You swept your arms down, letting them slide along his sides, feeling the way the darkness inside him tried to latch on to you. "It stained your soul," you realized, knowing that the auras you were seeing around the others was a glimmer of their souls. You wondered if it was a side effect of sacrificing yourself for the soul stone.

The darkness was unnatural and didn't belong attached to Stephen. You were suddenly sure that it would be so easy to burn it out of him and what better way to show your good will than helping the man who had let your sister fall apart from grief?

You offered Stephen a smirk, letting your magic flare up in your hands. You knew, somehow, that your plan would work. You were changed, reborn, and stronger for it.

"Well, you're in luck, Stephen, because I've decided that I'm going to help you. Brace yourself, though, this is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Stephen barely had a moment to react before you were letting your magic cover him. You let it seep into his skin, curling around the darkness inside him and burning it away. Stephen was screaming and Bucky was calling your name and Shuri was yelling something to Sam but all you could do was smile at Stephen and wonder if he felt even a fraction of the pain your sister must have experienced.

The power of your magic felt intoxicating. You had never been so completely embraced by it and you didn’t know what to do with the feeling. It was still incredibly impulsive and hard to control, but you knew that with time, you would adapt to it. You would control it more than it controlled you.

You let your magic sweep all the darkness inside Stephen away. You felt it trying to retreat, curl itself up and hide itself away, but you wouldn't let it. You burned the corruption of the Darkhold right out of Stephen and when you were done, he collapsed, no longer held up by your magic.

You suddenly felt arms around you and before you could lash out, you felt a brief sting at the side of your neck. You caught sight of Shuri's apologetic expression as she injected you with something. An icy chill crept through your veins and your vision blurred. The person holding you tightened their grip around you before lifting you up.

"Sorry about this, doll," Bucky muttered before you felt unconsciousness claim you.

The next thing you were aware of was someone's hand in yours and the sound of someone's soft breaths filling up the silence. You forced yourself to open your eyes, the dragging pull of sleep still clawing at you, but you were stubborn enough to fight it off. You managed to glance down to see that it was Bucky holding onto your hand. His head was tipped back and eyes closed as he slept sprawled out in an armchair that had been pulled up to your bedside.

You were in a room you didn't recognize and lying on a bed that definitely wasn't yours. The room was plain, bare, all except for the necessary furniture. You didn't know whether to panic about being in a strange place or be grateful that Bucky hadn't abandoned you for acting like a vengeful psycho with Stephen.

"It's mine," Bucky told you, startling you enough that you tightened your grip on his hand. "This is my room while I'm here in Wakanda."

You nodded your head, trying to think of something to say. You felt like Bucky had just witnessed you at your worst and you only hoped there was nowhere else to go but up from here.

"It's nice?" You tried, a smile tugging at your lips at the sound of Bucky's amused laughter.

"Yeah, well, haven't had time to hire the interior decorator yet," he joked before glancing down and realizing he was still holding onto your hand. He untangled his fingers from yours, the barest hint of a blush staining his cheeks. "How are you feeling?"

"You mean after I decided to burn the Darkhold's corruption out of Stephen and then got knocked out for my troubles?"

Bucky winced, but nodded his head.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling your lips pull down into a frown. "Not much I can feel after everything I've lost," you mused, fighting the urge to reach out and grab Bucky's hand again. You were on your way to accepting Steve's loss, because he had never really felt like yours at all. You had fallen for him hard and fast while helping him fight Tony Stark and the government all for the sake of Steve's best friend and your feelings had only intensified while you were on the run with him. You knew that Steve had loved you, but you always got the feeling there was something missing with every kiss he gave you. His 'I love you's were meant for someone else, you supposed, and you were only lucky they had graced your ears at all.

But Wanda? That was a loss you would not accept. She wasn't dead. You wouldn't allow it. Which meant that you would have to find a way to uncover the full story of her demise and find a way to fix it.

"I'm sorry," Bucky interrupted your thoughts, a remorseful look on his face.

"For helping Shuri knock me out? It was the smart thing to do," you assured him, knowing that your magic was no longer fully under your control. You were still learning the way it burned, bright and potent, and entirely too destructive. You knew that if left unchecked, you could do an incredible amount of damage, and you would have to find a way to tame the wild impulse of it before it did something you truly didn't want. "I'm not saying I would have killed Stephen, but he's definitely on my shit list."

"I'm not sorry about that," Bucky told you with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry because I know what it's like to wake up and find out that everything has changed. I know what it's like to feel like you're not really in control."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out and placing your hand over his wrist. "I'm sorry you had to experience that at all. It's a shitty, terrifying feeling."

Bucky snorted, gifting you with another smile. "You're telling me."

You had always liked Bucky. You hadn't spent a lot of time around him, but you could see why Steve was willing to risk everything to save him. He had a sneaky brand of sarcasm that never failed to make you smile and he had always been there to watch your back when you needed him. He was kind, if self-deprecating, and carried a weight on his shoulders that life and tragedy had unfairly heaped on him. Despite the guilt he carried, he still found the time to comfort you when you needed someone most. You supposed maybe that was part of his guilt, but he had no blame to feel for what happened with Steve or Wanda. You were grateful for his presence, though, and you knew you weren’t done clinging to him like a lifeline.

You really didn't want him leaving you too.

"Let's get out of here," you suggested.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow at you. "And go where?"

"I don't care," you told him, already moving to get out of the bed. "Just out of the building, out of Wakanda. Somewhere where I don't feel like I'm constantly being watched."

Bucky studied you for a moment before he narrowed his eyes in thought. "I think I have just the place in mind," he told you before he stood up. "Just let me tell Sam we're heading out."

Three minutes later, you were waiting for Bucky while he had a tense conversation with Sam just down the hall. There was a lot of disappointed sighs on Sam's part and a lot of eye-rolling from Bucky, but it wasn't until Sam's voice rose that you caught any of their argument.

"Are you sure you want to go with her? She seems a bit unstable," Sam pointed out, gesturing towards you.

"I heard that," you called, shooting Sam an unimpressed look.

He arched a brow at you, challenging and somehow accusatory. "I hope you did. I said it loud enough so you would."

Bucky groaned, before reaching out to sling an arm around Sam's shoulders and began to tow him in your direction. "Look," Bucky started, lowering his voice, but you could still hear him despite the effort. "She just woke up after being dead for years and she's found out that her whole world is gone. And maybe she's not exactly the same person she was before she fell. If there's anyone who might be able to help get her through this...," he trailed off, letting Sam fill in the rest for himself.

Sam froze in his tracks and turned to look at Bucky. "Ah, hell, Bucky," he breathed before his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You're sure about this?"

"Yeah," Bucky answered, letting his gaze settle on you. "I'm sure."

Shuri got you a flight out of Wakanda. You didn't see Stephen on your way out, but you didn't care all that much to see him again. You still didn't forgive him for his part in Wanda's suffering and while there would be hell to pay, you had other answers you needed to seek first.

By the time the jet was landing somewhere in America, you were starting to feel exhausted. Bucky took care of finding a rental car and instructed you to get some rest once you were settled in the passenger seat. You didn't think you'd be able to sleep, but the second you let your head fall back against the headrest, your eyes closed and you drifted off.

You woke to Bucky's hand on your shoulder. "We're here," he told you, keeping his tone gentle in an effort not to startle you.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a graveyard.

You felt yourself tense at the vision of the cemetery gates guarding the rows of graves beyond it. You were suddenly sure that Bucky had taken you to Steve's grave in an attempt to get you to make your peace with his death, but Bucky kept his grip firm on your shoulder and seemed to realize that you were beginning to freak out.

"Just trust me, alright?"

You glanced over at Bucky and met his eyes. You knew Bucky wasn't cruel, so your first assumption that you were here to pay your respects to Steve was way off. You nodded your eyes and got out of the car once Bucky did.

Bucky led you past one row of graves and another, seeking a specific one. He seemed to know exactly where he was going and you began to suspect it was a grave he visited often. He finally stopped in front of a headstone, standing just at the foot of the grave before shooting you an expectant look.

You offered him a nervous one in return before finally reading the name on the tombstone.

You couldn't stop the surprised laugh that escaped you once you realized whose grave you were visiting.

"It's mine," you marveled, moving forward to brush your hand over the headstone. There were fresh flowers left all around it, ringing it like a boundary of protection. There was a wreath displayed beside the headstone that looked like it had been left recently enough that it hadn't been destroyed by the elements just yet. The sash across the wreath proclaimed ‘gone but not forgotten,’ and once you read the words you had to look away, choked up at the sentiment. Your gaze fell on the stuffed animals resting against the base of the tombstone, lined up like they were keeping vigil over your grave.

"I thought you might find it funny," Bucky offered with a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "I've got one too. An empty grave," he clarified, shifting on his feet when you glanced at him over your shoulder. "But no one ever leaves me teddy bears," he added with an amused grin.

"Who left them?" You couldn't help but wonder, reaching out to pick up the teddy bear that Bucky had mentioned. It was blue and had white button eyes with a red heart stitched onto the stomach.

"People who are thankful," Bucky answered, his voice growing solemn. "People who know you saved them. Their loved ones. The world."

"Huh," you breathed, placing the teddy bear back down before thinking better of it and grabbing it again. "How often do people leave stuff?"

"Daily," Bucky responded, clearing his throat when he started to say something else. "I, uh, I try to maintain it. Me and Nat and even Sam. Sometimes Clint, but he's been trying to spend as much time as he can with his family and doesn't come out this way that often. But it's mostly me. We'll throw out the flowers once they've wilted or donate the stuffed animals. Sometimes, they even leave balloons and cards," he said, studying you as you brushed your fingers gently over the roses left in one of the vases.

You had been right all along. Bucky had easily navigated the way to your grave because he visited it often enough to have memorized where to go. The thought set off a funny little flip in your stomach and you decided to change the subject before you could embarrass yourself.

You stared down at your own grave for a few moments before finally speaking.

"What was the funeral like?"

"Weird," Bucky huffed, sounding oddly relieved at the change in subject. You glanced at him, noticing he was blushing yet again. You never thought the Winter Soldier would be so easily flustered, but here you were with the evidence staring you in the face. "Silent," he added after another thoughtful moment. "No one really wanted to believe you were gone. Steve gave a beautiful eulogy and your sister didn't really say much of anything. We never saw her again after that. I think she had just lost too much to want to stick around."

"Strange mentioned that Wanda took over a whole town," you started, finally turning to give Bucky your full attention. “Which town?”

"Westview," Bucky supplied with a grimace. “It’s in Jersey.”

"What happened?" You couldn't help but wonder. "What happened in Westview?"

"I don't know much more about it than Strange did," Bucky confessed, offering you an apologetic wince. "The people who live there didn't seem like they really wanted to talk about it all that much. Like they just wanted to move on. Far as I can tell, though, what you heard was correct. Wanda took over a town and kind of used the people who lived there as her puppets. She created the life she was never actually going to get with Vision."

"And she had kids," you mused, feeling your heart ache for your sister. Growing up, Wanda had only ever wanted a family and a life free of war. Losing your parents at such a young age and then being used as Hydra's lab rats had only made Wanda crave the kind of life she witnessed in the sitcoms she adored as a kid. The kind of life where nothing bad ever happened and the most harrowing choice the characters had to make was what to have for dinner. She wanted the white picket fence and dreamed of having a loving relationship with a partner who loved her unconditionally and kids of her own to mother. The fact that she had been so stricken with grief that she had been forced to create all of that with her magic left you feeling guilty.

Maybe if you had been there for her, you could have helped her channel her grief in a healthier way. Instead, Wanda had to gain it all just to lose it all again.

"Stephen talked about my sister like she was some sort of delusional villain," you finally continued, breaking free of your thoughts. "Wanda's not a bad person, Bucky. Just, sometimes, loss can make us do funny things."

You thought of Steve using the time stone to get his own version of the white picket fence life with Peggy. Steve had broken the rules to find his own happiness. What happened to the timeline he disrupted? Maybe you would never know, but if everyone was okay with Steve breaking one of the cardinal rules of time travel, then why couldn't they understand that Wanda had only been chasing her own dream?

She wasn’t a villain. She was just in pain.

You were biased, sure, but you couldn't stomach the idea of people turning your sister into someone to be hated. Someone to be feared.

You knew you would have to learn more about the deaths she caused, but you weren’t ready to unfold that part of Wanda’s story yet. The Darkhold had twisted your sister and you knew, deep down, even if you were loathe to admit it, that Stephen had likely been right. The Wanda that let herself fall to the temptation of the Darkhold wasn’t the same sister you had sacrificed yourself for, but you sure as hell weren’t going to stop until you found her again.

"When she realized what she was doing to the town, she did release them," Bucky assured you, swaying forward like he wanted to reach out and console you. "I heard there was another witch there stirring up trouble and the only way to save everyone was for Wanda to destroy the illusion. I don't know what happened after that or to that other witch, but your sister went off the grid for a while. And then, well, maybe it's best we not get into that part of the story now. You've been through a lot lately."

You wanted to argue, but you had a feeling that Bucky's next part of the story entailed whatever had happened to Wanda to make Stephen believe she was dead. You wanted more answers and you had a feeling that you were going to have to follow in your sister's footsteps to get them. You refused to accept that you had lost her like you lost Steve, which meant that you needed to try to get a feel for what happened to her.

Maybe you needed to start at the place where it all began.

"Do you know the way to Westview?" You asked Bucky, noticing the way his eyes widened just the slightest at your words. "I could try to go there by myself, but it's not like I've got my phone or a car, since I just recently stopped being dead."

"I don't know if that's the best idea," Bucky started, his tone careful and unsure.

"Buck," you started, finally crossing the distance between you. "I have to know. Please," you practically begged, suddenly sure that you couldn't do it without him.

Bucky considered you for a moment before he heaved a defeated sigh. "Yeah, alright," he conceded, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to lead the way. “Let’s go to Westview.” He didn’t sound thrilled at the idea, but you knew he also didn’t want to let you wander off by yourself.

"Great," you told him, pushing the teddy bear into his chest as you passed him. "There's more where that came from," you promised before you took off towards the cemetery gates, delighting in Bucky's pleased laugh.

Author's Note: If you would like to be tagged in this series or be added to my all Bucky taglist, just let me know!

Taglist: @sunshinepeachx @bethexo07 @kisnini @greatmistakes @jvanilly

@circe143

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #agatha all along #agatha all along imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #reader insert #imagine #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #my fic #i will avenge my ghost fic

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mistystepmoonbeam · 11 months ago

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Reborn into BG3: Chapter 6

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 6: Astarion is hungry, and why would he feed on a strong barbarian when you're right there?

Word count: 2.3K

Whatever took place at the blighted village exhausted the adventurers. Tav had been able to talk his way around the goblins, but the spiders below the town had given them trouble. You recall your own time defeating the spider matriarch, and her many, many children. Between peeling off the webbing and patching up wounds, they were all ready for rest.

You and Karlach had bought some supplies to feed the group, and she was a lot more handy making a stew than you thought she would be.

There was a strange sense of home as you all ate together, without Astarion who took his meal into his tent and claimed he was going right to sleep. Karlach had booed at him but nobody pressed him to stay longer. You wonder if tonight is the night he’ll try to feed off Tav.

When the night begins to quiet down and most of the companions go to bed you find you can hear a hum in the air. Your ears ring with some kind of energy coming from Tav’s bag. You eye it by his bedroll, unsure if the hum is coming from there or if it’s a trick of echoes between the trees.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” a voice says in your ear. You nearly jump out of your skin and turn to Gale, who’s holding up his hands with an apologetic smile.

“I thought you went to sleep,” you say, hand over your heart.

Tav snickers at your fear, tail flicking in the air.

Gale lets out a small grunt as he sits beside you, one leg bent and the other stretched towards the fire. “The spiders had quite the item in their cave, whether they knew it or not.”

Tav reaches into his bag and pulls out the amethyst stone you know unlocks the necromancer’s book. The hum grows, more of an annoyance in your ear than anything.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I believe it goes into this.” Gale pulls out the Necromancy of Thay from his own pack. The gaping mouth, amethyst eyes, all of it the same. You resist the urge to scoot away, because unlike the stone key, you can’t sense anything from the book. “Astarion was keen on holding onto this which is why I suspect he’s moping in his tent right now.”

You eye the book. “You’re not going to open it, are you?”

“Perhaps another time.” Gale sets the book away, while Tav tosses the amethyst into the air and catches it like a baseball. Gale scolds, “Once again, please do not do that.”

Tav shrugs but stores the stone back in his bag. He yawns and looks towards Shadowheart’s tent as if considering something before excusing himself. Bag in hand, he retreats to his tent. You look between him and Shadowheart’s tent curiously.

“I think he’s worried about her,” Gale tells you, drawing your attention back to him. “It took a lot of her power to heal him from the spiders poison.”

“Ah, right.” She has looked extra weary upon her return. “How are you feeling?”

“While I do look forward to a long rest, I wanted to test you.”

“You’re giving me a pop quiz? But I didn’t even review the syllabus.”

Gale chuckles as he stands. “If you can sense the power from the stone, then I believe you can manipulate the Weave. Come.”

You follow Gale towards his tent but he keeps walking until you two are by the river. With a large moon overhead and fireflies dotting the area you can see better than you thought you should.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything,” you say. There’s an excited twinkle in his eye at the prospect of solving the mystery of your past. As much as you want it to be true, you can’t picture yourself using magic.

Gale smiles at you, like he knows something you don’t. Well, he knows plenty you don’t but it seems like it’s something about you.

“I’m going to channel the Weave,” he says, “and I want you to close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”

You step up beside him, literally nothing to lose. “Should I get the staff Tav gave me?”

“No, I just want you.” Gale lifts his hands to start a spell when he clarifies, “Here. I just want—need you right here without any conduits.”

You bite your cheek to hide the smile at his stammering, and nod. With a tilt of your head left and right to stretch your neck, you close your eyes.

“Now, just tell me what you feel.”

You wait for something to happen, a breeze or a sting on your skin, but even the phantom limb is unperturbed by whatever Gale is doing. You shrug. “Nothing.”

Gale’s voice is distant when he responds. “Reach out with your mind.”

Once upon a time you would have asked how to do that, but now you keep quiet and consider trying to move the phantom limb. It’s right there, a weight on the back of your mind and yet…

You clear your throat, shoulders shifting uncomfortably. It’s heavier now, even without actually trying to use it. The cold fear that settles across your chest pierces deeper than anything you’ve ever felt. Your breath quickens until that cold fear becomes terror wrapped around your heart and you open your eyes, ready to tell Gale you want to stop. But instead of the handsome wizard you find a rotting boar head in front of you, on top of Gale’s body. Maggots fall from its eye sockets and the mouth hangs open with a broken jaw, fur matted with fresh and dry blood alike. It squeals at you as if being skewered alive.

The terror bubbles into your throat until it comes out of your mouth as a shriek.

You shoot up from your bedroll, arms blindly shoving at the dark to get the boar-headed Gale away from you and finding nothing but shadows. You lurch, falling to the side when your hands connect to nothing, heart ablaze with adrenaline as you claw at the blue fabric. It’s too dark in your tent to see anything but out of habit you scramble for your phone, your nightstand, something, anything to light up this small space and assure you there’s no threat.

There’s only the bottom of your staff and at the very least you can swing that around to hit anything that might be near you. And you do swing it. It connects with nothing.

The hanging crystals and bones clatter together when you stop after three swipes. Your chest and shoulders rise and fall heavily with each breath, eyes adjusting to the dark.

You gulp down as much air as possible while trying to calm your body. You’re not just shivering, you're trembling from the residual fear of the dream. But it wasn’t that bad. Really, thinking about it now that you’re awake, it was scary but it wasn’t anything worse than what you’ve had in the past. And it certainly shouldn’t have had you shrieking in the night.

Speaking of…shouldn’t someone have come running by now? You listen to the wind blow through the trees but hear nothing else. No questions about what’s going on, and no Tav rushing to your rescue. Maybe you hadn’t actually screamed? You could have sworn…

You aren’t ready to set down your staff, but you’re far too shaky to go back to sleep. Instead you begin to stand only to see movement out of the corner of your eye. Your body is much slower to react, even when on high alert, and in a flash there’s a hand over your mouth and your back is pressed against a warm chest, both of you still on the ground and your legs tangled in the blanket. The intruder's other hand is wrapped around your own on the staff, ensuring you can’t attack.

Your free hand, still healing, fumbles to free your mouth when you hear a whisper, “Shhh, shh, sh.”

“Mstaeeom?”

“No need to wake up the entire camp,” Astarion says. He snatches the staff from your grip while you’re temporarily stunned and tosses it out of reach. “And no need to bludgeon me, either.”

You let out a deep sigh through your nose and lay a hand over Astarion’s to reassure yourself it’s him. You remember his scent, more woodsy than you thought it would be, and your heart rate begins to calm. When his other arm secures around your middle it reassures you more—the tightness of the hold comforting.

“Are you…are you calming down?” he questions incredulously.

You try to answer but can’t speak clearly with his hand over your mouth. So you shift and try to look at him over your shoulder, pressing yourself further into his chest as your head struggles to turn. You can just make out his chin in the dark when he finally releases your mouth.

“I thought you were Gale with a rotting boar head.”

He squints at you, upper lip curling. “I’ll assume that was the nightmare that had you assaulting the air. But…why are you calm? Shouldn’t you be screaming? Struggling? Calling for the others?”

“Why?” When you attempt to shift forward he doesn’t let you, arm now locked securely around your waist since he’s no longer concerned with you fighting back with the staff.

“Because I’m attacking you.”

“You are?” You turn to get a better look at him but he grabs your chin and faces you forward.

He pauses. “I just need a little of your blood and I’ll be on my way. We don’t need to make a big thing out of it.”

“Blood? Shouldn’t you be going for Tav?”

“Why would I go for the bulky barbarian that’s sleeping out in the open when you’re hidden here, weak and ripe for the plucking?” Astarion begins to shift your head to the right to reveal your neck.

“That’s a good point,” you mumble.

His breath fans over your pulse point, but it isn’t some kind of excited or pleasant exhale. It’s more like disappointment or…exhaustion. And he doesn’t bite you.

“Um, Astarion,” you say.

He’s silent.

“If you’re going to drink my blood can you at least do it from the wrist?”

“What?” His question is just another breath.

“It’ll be easier to conceal marks on the wrist.”

Of all things, Astarion shoves you away. He’s quick to get on his feet and step away from you while you fumble for balance. One slender, pale finger points at you. “What’s your game?”

“Go fish?”

His scowl deepens. Watching him work through the slew of emotions and questions would be entertaining, if not for your own nagging question; why is he upset by this? You offered him your blood just like Tav would. So why didn’t he happily accept and tell you to get comfortable? Wait. Why were you so willing to get comfortable and let him potentially kill you? Let’s lock that thought away until we can find out if therapists exist in this world.

“Sorry,” you say. “I’m not playing a game…I just trust you.”

A truly terrible idea. There’s no guarantee this Astarion is exactly like the game but…

“And I owe you right?” you add. “Feeding on me will just be like clearing my debt.”

Astarion frowns but considers your words. “I suppose this means you know what I am.”

You scratch at the spot on your neck he’d been breathing on. “I might have put it together just now. And you’re a better fighter when you’ve fed, right?”

“Well I don’t need any more convincing,” Astarion says, voice turned that saccharine tone. “Why don’t you get comfortable?”

As he kneels beside you you hold up a hand. “I meant it about the wrist.”

Astarion frowns but nods. You roll up the sleeve of your shirt, holding your arm towards him. He sits, one leg bent so his knee faces upwards and the other lays on the ground. There’s a gentleness as he takes your wrist with both hands, lifting it to his lips. If you could see perfectly in the dark this might have scared you more, but the most you could make out were his eyes watching your skin and then the opening of his mouth.

You feel the sting of his fangs, sinking deeper than any wound you’ve had before. Well, any wrist wound, anyway. You look away, not wanting to stare despite the morbid fascination with the act. And you should be…colder, shouldn’t you? Yes, his fangs do feel like ice is piercing your veins but the rest of you is warm—flushed even. But then your head begins to swim, mind too big for your skull, and you sway.

It’s too hot in that little tent. Too enclosed. You gulp as the nausea curls in your gut, the blood seeping from your wrist that doesn’t get sucked away by the vampire now dripping down your arm.

“Astarion,” you whimper. When you try to pull back your arm he keeps you in place, drinking heavily.

Oh gods, you rolled a one.

“Astarion!” you hiss. It’s enough to take him out of his trance, finally pulling his fangs out of your wrist.

“Wha-oh, yes,” he mutters. You watch him wipe the blood on his chin with his thumb and then lick it off. Had you enough blood in your body and again, the ability to see perfectly in the dark, it might have been lewd. But you have to lie down in hopes of making the world stop spinning.

“That was…” Astarion begins but changes whatever he was going to say. “That was wonderful, thank you. Now, I’m off to find something more…filling.”

You turn your head to him as he steps towards the entrance of your tent. Just as he’s about to open one flap he turns to you. “Are you…all right?”

You give him a thumbs up with your good hand and a yawn. “Don’t put any boars in my tent this time.”

Astarion replies, but you’re already asleep and don’t hear anything else the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat

#reborn into bg3 #reborn into baldur's gate 3 with no memory and plenty of money #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 gale #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios

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tetsunabouquet · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do some nsfw yandere headcanons for imayoshi, hanamiya, kiyoshi (he'd be interesting with his morals and all) and lastly akashi (presumably bokushi would come out and act on his feelings)?

A/N: Because of Tumblr's word limit, I do have to keep the headcanons a bit shorter then usual considering you requested multiple ones at once. (18+)

Imayoshi

-Imayoshi's ability to be able to do exactly what a person's hate, evolved once you caught his eye. He has almost some sort of magical ability to find you when you're all alone. -This also extends to making you love everything about him even though the depth of his obsession repulses you at first. -Not the type to force himself on you, but the one who will try to seduce you to get you as crazy as you make him. -He'll climb in your bed and whisper how much he wants to get dirty for a change when he sees you in your ear, caging you in his strong arms until his words start arousing you. Because his ability to do what you hate, allows him to always find the spare key you hide around your house. No matter how often you change its location. -Imayoshi always holds you after filling up your pussy, and sleeps with you. It's your sleeping face he holds most dear. You often feel like he should add teleporting in his skillset, because he always miraculously leaves about ten minutes before your parents wake up.

Hanamiya

-Sadistic enough to engage in sexual abuse. -Will fuck you raw to show you that you belong to him. -However he's patient and will spin a web around you before he acts. He will slowly isolate you from your friends, until you have no one to run to. -Once you're all alone, he'll slowly break you. From blackmail to rape, there is nothing Hanamiya isn't capable off. -Hanamiya's preference for stupid girls has to partially do with these being the type of girls who won't outsmart or win from him. They're easy prey to this spider. -The only thing you can do is moan and cum like a brainless slut as he chokes you and whispers in your ear how you belong to him.

Kiyoshi

-Because of his personality, you don't detect his creepiness at all which makes him so dangerous. -He's intelligent enough to realize he has the element of surprise. His plan is to slowly worm his way into your life and heart until it's too late. -Your friends won't believe you at all if you notice a tiny red flag every once in a while, because they are as oblivious to Kiyoshi's dark side as you are most of the time. -Once Kiyoshi feels the time is right, he'll slowly start taking his steps to close in. Dark eyes flashing when you talk to other boys who mysteriously all end up having their lives sabotaged. A possessive hand at times groping you and playing it off as an accident all the while a unsettling smile plays on his lips. -When he finally gets into your pants, Kiyoshi has either two sets of behaviors. One is sweet and rewards you kindly when you've been a good girl. If you've ruffles his feathers by daring to speak up or talk with other boys, he'll fuck your brains our with no mercy until you remember you're his. -Whenever he calms down from these moods, he'll start pampering your bruises with kisses as you mentally tell yourself not to upset him next time.

Akashi

-He knows everything about you. Has secret cameras installed around your house everywhere, has your phonecalls traced and overheard, knows your parents work schedule. He knows every detail about you before he starts to operate. -Whilst you and your friends can see him coming from miles away, no one will help you. No one had enough power to protect you from Akashi. -Eventually has you kidnapped. -He'll breed you so he can use the children against you. Expect as much creampies from him as possible. -Can foresee your every escape attempt. -He'll pump you roughly but slowly, and as you look into those slitted demon-like eyes of his, it feels as if you might as well be taken by the devil himself and you hate how it turns you on.

#knb #kuroko's basketball #akashi #akashi seijuro #knb x reader #hanamiya makoto #kiyoshi teppei #imayoshi shoichi #yandere #knb yandere

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apomaro-mellow · 10 months ago

Text

King and Prince 19

Part 18

Waking up with morning wood was a wake up call Steve didn’t know he needed. He was able to calm it but now there was a thrumming under his skin. It was like realizing you were hungry and being unable to ignore it. Taking care of it himself was always an option. He had his own room. But he missed being with another person. The thrill of flirtation followed by the ecstasy of coming together as one.

The castle was filled with people. But most either ignored Steve or gave him glares when they passed. It was clear that his family name was causing some grudges and it was only because of Eddie that no one took out their grievances with him. Of the people who didn’t actively hate him, most were children and the other was Robin. She was perfectly lovely with hair that framed her face in a way that caressed her cheeks like a lover.

Honestly, there was a moment where Steve wondered if he was falling for her himself, but her disinterest in men meant she wouldn’t respond to any advances from him. Late one night, when that energy filled him to the brim, he let a bout of madness take him for only a second where he imagined seducing Eddie. In the dark, Steve snickered to himself at the absurdity of it. He was a hospitable host but no one had more reason to hate him than Eddie.

That only left people outside of the castle. People who didn’t recognize him as a prince and thus wouldn’t hold it against him. And Eddie did say that he was no longer a prisoner.

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

Jeff liked to take pleasure in the little things. A nice cool breeze, the smell of warm bread, and the entertainment he got anytime Eddie and Nancy disagreed on things. Nancy was logical and loyal. Everything she did was in the best interests of the kingdom. Eddie, for all his experience, was often impulsive and emotional.

But it was because of this that Eddie often heeded her advice, knowing it came from a place of rationality. To an untrained eye, it may appear that Nancy ran the kingdom. Looks were deceiving. Eddie had years under his belt that most of them couldn’t fathom. It was what made him fit to rule. More important than the great power he held was the wisdom he had acquired.

“You want to be allowed to leave and go out into town?”, Eddie repeated.

Steve stood before Eddie, Jeff, Nancy, and a few others who made up the council. It was a bold thing to ask, given his title and position.

“I’ve been learning about your people and lands. I think I should see more of it for myself.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a scholar of culture”, Eddie brought his leg up to rest his ankle on his knee. He could tell that wasn’t the only reason Steve wanted out, but he also saw no reason to pry besides his own curiosity. The prince had no allies here, not counting the few bonds he’d made within his own walls. Certainly no one with which to conspire against Eddie and his subjects.

“You can’t be considering this seriously”, Nancy said.

“Why not?”, Eddie shrugged.

The others waited to see how the debate would go, keeping themselves silent until each party justified their point. Jeff could see both sides. The prince hadn’t really done anything suspicious to require him to be guarded so closely. Even so, he hadn’t officially denounced his home land nor pledged loyalty to this one.

“Because he’s from an enemy kingdom? Because he could be trying to get you killed or overthrown? I know you think you’re invincible, but try to remember that the rest of us are not”, Nancy said.

“Believe me, I am aware”, Eddie said. “I’m also aware that he has had zero contact with his own people since arriving. And there are no spies in my court. If he wants to go on an outing without having to corral our young wards, I see no reason not to allow this.”

Nancy frowned at Steve. She didn’t see him as much of a threat, merely what he represented and what he was attached to. It was still difficult for her to believe that a king would discard a crown prince. It just didn’t make sense to her. The others began to chime in with why this could go wrong. And many of their arguments were right. This one decision could end very badly. But Steve wasn’t his prisoner anymore. He had already offered to set him free. And it was like Nancy could read his mind.

“Letting him go home and letting him come and go as he pleases are two different things.”

Eddie waved her off. “Semantics. I’ll honor your request to explore, little prince. But you will have a curfew.”

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

Eddie himself took Steve down to the stables to ensure that the stablehands knew he had the official seal of approval from the king.

“I’ll let you borrow Sunflower here”, Eddie handed Steve the reins.

Sunflower was a beautiful color, almost golden and it reminded Steve that this place wasn’t all dark clouds and shadows. They had beautiful skies and flowers.

“Thank you”, Steve said, petting her mane.

“I want you back before sundown”, Eddie said.

Steve nodded. All in all, a rather generous curfew, given that the days were starting to get longer. He didn’t leave right away though. He went back to his room to get ready, putting on one of the new outfits he’d been given. It was meant for everyday wear so it wasn’t as nice as the one for the festival, but it was definitely good quality. He did his hair, checking in the mirror to make sure it was perfect.

By the time Steve was done, quite some time had passed, but he still had hours before the sun would set. He went to retrieve Sunflower and exited the gates, feeling free as he trotted out.

“Now how sure are we that he’s not just going to ride off into the sunset?”, Robin asked as she happened to catch him leaving from a window.

“Pretty damn sure”, Eddie said, focusing on twirling a fork in his hand.

When Steve got into town, he allowed himself to really take it in. Of course it was a sight to see during a celebration, but it was also lovely now too when people were just going about their business.

Back home, Steve never had to search far for a partner. Even the most frigid had melted when a crown prince gave them his attention. But he couldn’t just announce that he was royalty. That would end in disaster.

No, if he wanted to find a lover for the evening, he’d have to rely solely on his wits and charm. Thankfully, he had both in abundance. He figured a tavern was a good place to look and he found one. He tied Sunflower up outside and ventured in. Only about three steps in did he realize he had no money but he kept up his stride. This was where the charm came in.

There was a young woman at the bar, nursing a drink. Her hair was cut short, in a similar style to Nancy’s but much curlier. Her brown skin was complimented by her gold earrings and made it apparent that she appreciated the finer things. She looked up as Steve approached and smiled.

“Mind a bit of company?”, he asked.

She nodded to the stool next to her. “Help yourself.”

It was easy to take a seat and slip back into old habits, even easier when his conversation partner was a beautiful woman who had no idea who he was. He hardly even had to lie. All that mattered was that he was new to the area and looking for a bit of fun. She caught on quick and luckily had a room in the tavern they could go to.

Afterwards, Steve wanted nothing more than to bask in the afterglow, but he knew he couldn’t linger too long. He didn’t want to mess up what little goodwill he had from Eddie so fast.

On the way back, he was already thinking of his next outing. Who he might find and what kind of person they may be. Maybe if he behaved, he could convince Eddie to let him spend an entire night out. There had to be a place for entertainment other than drinking such as dancing. And perhaps he’d even find a regular lover and not -just a part time bed mate.

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

Eddie resisted the urge to put eyes on Steve when he left the first time. He only kept his regular sentries that monitored the castle gates and walls. He knew when Steve left and knew when he returned but that was it. He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing and with who.

For all he knew, Steve was going to the tavern to drink his troubles away, playing cards with old men, or knitting with old ladies. Eddie had no idea what kind of hobbies Steve had back home but he could be a knitter.

The first time Eddie saw Steve after one of his excursions was about two weeks later. And there was only one way to describe Steve’s condition after reveling in whatever delighted him in town.

He was glowing.

Part 20

Taglist

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie

@goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble

@jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24

@justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void

@nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-steve

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie

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violet-moonstone · 4 months ago

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About to say something that I'm like 99% sure others have already talked about countless times but I'm thinking about Alicent Hightower again and when that happens, I can't be stopped.

In House of the Dragon, Alicent should have poisoned Viserys. I think Alicent and Rhaenyra should have had a falling out at/after the reunion dinner (or blamed Rhaenyra for how their kids started fighting). They definitely should not have been on the verge of rekindling their friendship at that point in the plot.

Then Alicent should have complained to Viserys about it and Viserys would have then taken Rhaenyra's side, once again restating his intention to make Rhaenyra his heir.

I think it would work well if, during the time Rhaenyra was away on Dragonstone, the issue of inheritance had remained an unspoken and unresolved issue between Alicent and Viserys. Alicent would spend the years getting Aegon ready to be king (or at least trying), hoping that Viserys would eventually see things her way if she raised up Aegon and undermined Rhaenyra enough.

But a resolute statement from Viserys, who is visibly close to death, that when he dies, Rhaenyra is going to replace him, would shatter that, especially if Viserys resolved to make plans to publicly reinforce Rhaenyra's power with more decrees, events, and public works in her name.

So finally, Alicent realizes that playing by the rules and using persuasion is not going to work in her favour. Viserys, while a kind man, is standing in the way of Alicent's ambitions for her children and her beliefs about tradition and "proper" behaviour. (I think the former should grow more important over the years, while the latter is simply a convenient shield to hold on to). More than that, Viserys is one of the rules Alicent no longer wants to follow. She has been dutiful and faithful to him for years, and all for what? So her son, who she believes should be on the throne, is set aside in favour of her rival?

She no longer wants to be tied to a man she didn't want to marry, whose decision limit her actions, and whose choice to marry her played a role in ruining what seems like her only significant friendship (she does not see any of her fractured relationship with Rhaenyra as her fault, because while she may be self-conscious, she is not self-aware).

Alicent listens to Viserys talk about reinforcing Rhaenyra's power and all the things he's going to do to make sure she is the unquestioned heir (things he should have had in place this whole time, but too little, too late) and flinches as he finally puts his foot down and says that he won't have any more of Alicent undermining Rhaenyra.

Alicent has her revelation.

She smiles sweetly and apologizes, promising that she understands and that it won't be a problem anymore. Viserys, somewhat embarrassed by his uncharacteristic assertiveness towards his wife, apologizes too and says they should go to sleep. Everything will be better in the morning. Alicent agrees while she starts preparing his medicine. Everything will be better in the morning.

Because in the morning, Viserys isn't going to wake up.

...

Ok so this only works if Alicent poisons him that night, which I think could be possible if you can die from a milk of the poppy overdose (I'm assuming this is possible, and I vaguely remember reading that milk of the poppy can cause death).

Otherwise, she might just start upping his dose and keeping him away politics -- which seemed to be the case most of the time anyway, except she seemed to be doing it mostly out of concern for him, while the political aspect was secondary. In the meantime, she could speak to Larys about procuring "something to help the King sleep better at night. Perhaps something more...permanent."

...

Reasons I think this should happen:

It would make Alicent's relationship to duty much more interesting. She can make a conscious decision to reject her responsibilities and even her morals for the sake of her family. Whether it's out of political ambition or she genuinely fears for the lives -- I think either is still compelling.

Expanding on the duty point, it would show that her marriage to Viserys is first and foremost a duty, regardless of how fond he was of her. I can see her taking care of him and performing all the responsibilities and tenderness of a caring wife -- because it's what she's supposed to do, not what she actually feels.

It would be a strong turning point in Alicent's character arc where she realizes she is willing to do anything at all to get Aegon on the throne. Whatever is left of the girl we met in episode one should be completely gone. She's a new person now.

It gives Alicent more agency in the usurpation -- which she should have an active role in, considering she's been a primary participant in undermining Rhaenyra and turning her sons against their half sister for years at this point.

Alicent's reaction to murdering her husband would be an interesting revelation for her character. She might have a Lady Macbeth moment where she experiences intense grief and guilt for what she's done, and seeing her push through that for the sake of her family would be amazing. Alternatively, she might find that she feels nothing at all and is only distantly horrified that she killed her husband without feeling anything but a sense of accomplishment. She might cry, not because she's sorry that she murdered him, but because she realizes that she's not sorry, and she doesn't like what that says about her. She could even talk to Larys about it and be even more unsettled to discover that she has more in common with him than she wants. Either way, lot's of potential there.

It's a good way of bringing the ruthlessness of her book counterpart into the show while keeping her previous TV show characterization in tact.

It would make the Dance of the Dragons what it's supposed to be, which is a cruel and bloodthirsty conflict instead of a goddamn comedy of errors that only happens because of hurt feelings and ineptitude.

#long post #alicent hightower #house of the dragon #hotd #team green #let alicent do things please #for the love of god #anyway all my ideas for what alicent should be like is just giving me ideas for how i want to write characters in my own stories #so theres a silver lining

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acourtofthought · 1 year ago

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Just to address a few things first -

I love Feysand together and I don't hold their (Rhys's) past mistakes against them.

The way Tamlin spoke to Feyre at the High Lords meeting was petty and childish.

But for those who claim Lucien's actions with Hybern are unforgiveable and therefore will forever make it impossible for Elain to forgive him in order to accept their bond, I think we should compare two scenarios:

Rhys admits that he forced Feyre into their bargain as a way to defy Amarantha, a way to get back at Tamlin, and yes, a way to keep Feyre alive. Feyre acknowledges that she was a pawn in his schemes yet still fell in love with him.

Versus:

Lucien had no idea the sisters would be brought into things, that was all Ianthe.

He tells both Feyre and Elain that what happened was a mistake, that the sisters being brought in and how things went down was not their plan. One of Lucien's main goals was to try and save Feyre.

Rhys, in comparison, admits that it was his plan to use Feyre as a pawn to serve his purpose. There were aspects that benefitted her but most of it was for himself and his people.

Tamlin and Lucien believed Feyre was being brain washed and tortured, something she let Lucien continue believing when he found her in the woods, when she felt it was more important to protect the secret of who Rhys was under his mask. So they worked with Hybern in exactly the same way Rhys worked with Amarantha, with the end goal of protecting Feyre and helping their people:

The differences in these scenarios are:

Lucien and Tamlin never used Feyre or her sisters as a pawn versus Rhys who actively used Feyre as one. For good reasons yes but it doesn't change the facts.

There was no "Ianthe" in Rhys's situation. Rhys, as High Lord, made the decisions on his own and did not risk betrayal by sharing his schemes with others. He clearly made the smarter play compared to Tamlin who trusted Ianthe but.....

Lucien never liked Ianthe. Never really trusted her, never wanted her around. Just as Cassian, Az, etc. followed their HLs orders to hide Feyre's pregnancy, just as Amren and Mor chose to keep the mating bond a secret from Feyre, just as the IC all hid the information about Nesta's made weapons from her, those under a HL are subject to following the orders of said HL. It didn't matter if Lucien agreed with Tamlin about Hybern, about Ianthe, he had no power to challenge him. In the end, the decision to do what they did was not his call.

I think everyone in this fandom knows that the events of Hybern would truly not stand in the way of an Elucien endgame.

When Rhys used Feyre as a pawn on multiple occasions.

When Cassian told Nesta that everyone hated her and initially hid the knowledge of the swords from her.

When Bryce initially thought Hunt betrayed her in CC1.

When Rowan punched Aelin in the face and told her the world would have been better had she died as a child.

When Feyre fell in love with Tamlin even after he kidnapped her.

When Ruhn fell in love with Lidia despite the sins she committed for the Asteri.

I think everyone knows Elain's current behavior towards Lucien is not preventing an Elucien endgame.

Not when Nesta told Cassian she wanted nothing to do with him and slept with other males.

Not when Feyre was initially afraid of Rhys, said the night she kissed Tamlin was the happiest of her life, admits she wanted Rhys even UTM yet still accepted Tamlin's proposal.

Not when Yrene thought Chaol was to blame (by association) for the death of her family.

Not when you consider what Elide believed about Lorcans loyalty to Maeve.

Not when Aedion found out about Lysandra and Aelin's plot to deceive him in marriage and children.

Given the history of SJMs writing, there is nothing preventing an Elucien endgame aside from Elain's reticence over the bond and when an author like Diana Gabaldon turned an unwanted arranged marriage (for Claire) into a love story that has one of SJMs favorite male love interests, I think Elucien is going to be just fine.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #pro lucien vanserra

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 10 months ago

Text

What the Future Holds Ch. 1

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: No set pairings.

Word Count: 3198

Warnings: 18+ MDNI please! There really isn't anything to warn about in this one. We're just getting started. There canon typical threats and mentions of free will being taken away. A single mention of being sold. I think that's it.

Author’s Note: This should have been out ages ago, but it's finally done and ready for you guys! Also I would like to note that in this chapter, the twins are 20 years old. I usually try to keep age out of my fics but for some reason it was a detail that was needed. However, before we fully jump into the story the twins will be 25.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

A sense of deja vu washed over the L/Ns as they stood within the Mikaelson study. Elijah had stood by the large bay windows as he went over the written contract in his hands. Each paragraph of it he had read thrice to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. Anything to help them out of their own stupidity.

“What persuaded you to go to the De Martels?” Elijah’s voice had almost sounded bored. Almost as if he wasn’t worried about the details that the pages contained. But after being around for as long as he had, it was as easy as breathing to make it seem like there was nothing to be worried about.

“We weren’t meeting deadlines as we should have been.” Dante L/N had said keeping his chin up. Unlike his visit with his rather distant grandmother, he wouldn’t look away from Elijah. He knew that all he had to do was blink the wrong way and there was a possibility of not opening his eyes again. “With the recent region transfer of powers, we were close to losing everything.”

The regions were constantly changing. Ever since the uprising, country and state lines no longer existed. Territories were claimed through slaughter while creating new lines. Regions belonged to those who had dared to take it over and maintain it. This family of L/N’s had lived on the border of where the De Martels had taken over and where The Mikaelsons had control of the region.

The Mikaelsons’ region contained what used to be a majority of the southern states. Most of the gain had been due to Klaus claiming it. Taking out the annoying young that refused to listen had been easy. Running the region had been a completely different story. One that Klaus left Elijah to deal with.

The stories that had been passed down through the generations had expressed that Elijah had changed since the vampires had taken over the world. The nobility of the Original vampire had died the moment his eldest sister had been murdered at the hands of humans that sought out to rid the world of the supernatural.

The L/Ns hadn’t personally known the Mikaelsons until recently. The young couple had barely made it back home after the birth of their twins when they were introduced to the Mikaelsons. A binding contract had been made that night. One that would ensure that the family would be protected until the children became of age.

“Why not come to me with these matters?” Elijah asked as he placed the contract down on the table. “The De Martels may have obtained new territory, but that does not instantly grant them ownership of business.”

It amused Elijah on how easily humans nowadays would jump into the agreement with vampires without looking over anything. While at times it had been amusing, he longed for the days that the humans would actually think before making a deal with a devil.

“Much like the night you came to us,” Dante began. “The De Martels had come knocking. Every piece of data had been combed through and used to present us with this offer. I believed it to be beneficial, until Clara had expressed how blindly I had gone into this.”

A small smirk pulled at the corner of Elijah’s lips. “How is the darling Clara doing these days?” He had known Clara for a handful of centuries. While he had never interfered in her life in ways he wished he had, he watched as the woman had grown into a power of her own. “Must have been one painstakingly long night if she looked over this.” He waved his hand towards the contract.

“Is there truly no loophole?” Dante’s wife asked, ignoring the questions that had been asked by the vampire. “I do not wish to be rude, but I know the safety of my children is at stake. And with that safety is also the agreement we have with your family. I’d hate for it to be violated by my husband's mistake.”

Elijah sighed as looked at her. “There is no loophole. The De Martels know how to work things in their favor. But with or without your husband’s ‘mistake’.” His eyes flashed over to him for a moment before looking back towards her. “I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to ensure your children stay safe.” He watched as she let out a shuddering breath. Even if the stories said he had become ruthless, everyone knew his word was binding. Elijah Mikelson never broke his word.

“Thank you.” She said with a slight nod.

He nodded in return. “How are their lessons?”

The three of them knew this was a way to change the subject. To change it in a way that would give the two humans some breathing room, even if it was just for a moment.

“Alexander is thriving.” She said with a smile pulling at her lips. “We believe that in a few years time he’ll be able to take over the business and when the time is right, he’ll do fine with the prophecy you’ve told us.”

“What of Y/N?” Elijah asked and he watched their faces fall. It caused him to raise a brow.

“Her head is in the clouds more.” She said with a sigh. “It is as if she knows that her life will be set and the importance of lessons isn’t at the top of her list.”

“Perhaps I should speak with her.” Elijah offered. He watched their eyes widen for a moment in fear. “Fear and ignorance is what has led us into our current situation. Striking fear into Y/N will do nothing but hinder her. It is my intention to help steer her in the right direction.”

“With Compulsion?” Dante asked, a bit of venom lacing his words. The need to protect his daughter rising within his veins.

Elijah scoffed. “Anyone else would. They’d actually do worse to her in order to get her to fall in line.” With each word that he said the two in front of him had their fear grow at the possibilities that could happen to their daughter. “It’d be easy to bend her mind to do as needed. To make her obedient. However, my method of speaking to someone who could potentially change the course of things isn’t to manipulate them in any way. I was merely suggesting a moment to encourage her to use those clouds she's found herself in to her advantage.”

If there was one thing that hadn’t changed with Elijah, his way with words was enough to give the right push without so much as using compulsion. There were other methods to ensure things were done as they needed to be. And while he would occasionally use compulsion to his advantage on numerous occasions, using it on Y/N was and never would be considered an advantage. Not when some twist in Fate deemed the L/N twins the very two that would give the world back the balance nature so desperately wanted.

Before the Vampires had taken over, Freya had strange premonitions that gave heavy meanings to peace and balance. Flashes of a future that seemed so chaotic and almost barbaric had plagued the witch for weeks with no understanding of what it could mean. What threat the Mikaelsons would face.

Elijah could easily remember the day Freya had told him and their siblings of some prophecy that was shown to her. The details were almost laughable. How could a world change so much to warrant nature to demand a balance when the details of it all had seemed so fictional. While the majority of the siblings had brushed it off, Elijah had asked for every details.

“The natural balance of things will be threatened. I do not know by who or what, let alone when this chaos is supposed to unfold.” Freya explained. “I just know that a particular set of twins from a particular bloodline are supposed to be the balance that we will need.”

“What kind of balance would they even be capable of providing?” Elijah asked. He had known about several covens and their fascination with twins.

“One will stay human. The other will become a vampire when the time is right.” She explained. “What I’ve seen of them, they aren’t of current times. It will be some time before they are even born, let alone old enough for what needs to be done.”

“Nature doesn’t wait for it’s balance to manifest generations later.” He noted.

“I know.” She sighed. “That is where it doesn’t make sense. Why will the balance favor vampires so easily? All I know are the images and names of the children. Something horrible is going to happen, Elijah and I don’t know if I’ll be around to help fix it.”

“Tell me how I can help.” He offered, wanting to ease the worry that was building up within his sister.

“Unless you know fraternal twins named Alexander and Y/N L/N, then I don’t even know where to start with the help.”

A month later the world descended into chaos and there wasn’t much the Mikaelsons could do to stop it from unfolding. They could only adapt as the world changed. Including murdering the hundreds of humans that had hunted down and murdered every witch within New Orleans, including Freya.

Elijah had kept every detail Freya had told him locked within his mind. A way to hold on to not only the memory of his sister, but to make sure he did everything he could to help fulfill the prophecy that she had seen.

It had been Clara that had told Elijah about the twins when they had been born. At first it had only been mentioned out of disbelief. The L/Ns never had twins in their family and the first set had been born within the freedom of her protection. From there, Elijah had questioned about their names. And when he had every detail, he knew they were who Freya had seen.

That had been twenty years ago. Elijah had created a contract that would work in the world’s favor. The twins would get the protection they needed while ensuring they received the proper education and training for what was destined for them. While Elijah had hoped that ‘right time’ wouldn’t come until they were well into their twenties, he couldn’t be a hundred percent about it. All he could do was prepare them.

“She does prefer you over her recent tutors.” Her voice broke Elijah from his thoughts of the past. “Maybe speaking with you would be best.”

She was trying to ease the tension that was growing between the three of them. It hadn’t been a lie though. The three of them had noticed the way Y/N had preferred the way Elijah tutored her over the hired tutors. She wasn’t so easily distracted with the humans that tried to keep up with the lessons that Elijah had instructed the twins take.

Elijah nodded his head. “Have they traveled with you?”

“Of course.” Dante nodded.

“Then send her in and I’ll discuss it with her.” That was the only kind of dismissal that Elijah was giving them. He wasn’t going to continue the conversation when he knew it would lead to Elijah probably losing his temper on Dante over his stupidity.

He watched as the pair collected their things, including the contract and stepped out of the study. Elijah had been alone for only a few moments before Y/N had stepped into the room. She hadn’t even bothered to knock on the door. And for a brief moment, an amused smile pulled at Elijah’s lips.

“My parents said you wished to speak with me?” She asked as she closed the study door behind her.

It was strange to see how much she had reminded him of how humans used to react before things changed. In comparison to her parents Y/N didn’t give off an ounce of fear. Where her mother had kept her eyes downward, Y/N’s eyes stayed focused on him. There wasn’t even fear that he’d use compulsion with how she held his gaze.

Her eyes had matched her mother’s but there were flecks of silver that seemed to find a new home within her irises any time she blinked. Alexander’s eyes had the same thing but with gold flecks. But unlike Y/N, the flecks never seemed to change position as hers did. But there was one thing for certain as Elijah took in her eyes. She did not fear the world around her one bit.

“I did.” He nodded his head. “I was told your preference of tutors is making it difficult to focus on your studies.”

The neutrality she had on her features the moment she walked in had now shifted. A slight frown had pulled at her lips. However her eyes never left his face. “It’s not a matter of preferring specific tutors. It feels one sided.” When she watched him raise his brow, she continued. “The tutors are human. Any history lessons that are being provided are from that of a human. A human that has learned the details with prejudices embedded. I find it difficult to understand it when venom is laced in the words so often.”

A small hum of acknowledgement had left Elijah. “That is the point of some of those lessons. Words spewed out of hatred when the world descended into chaos will give you an opened mind when learning of what can be prevented. Yes, a vampire could give you more in depth details and firsthand accounts. It would include, if not be filled with more of the same venom about humans.”

“I understand.” She nodded. She paused for a moment, sorting out her words. “I know my tutors have been switched out more often than Alex. I do try, Elijah. I pass my courses and attempt to stay on track. But-”She stopped herself. A string of thoughts playing through her mind that she should probably keep the matter to herself. “I will make sure I do not disappoint.”

Elijah hadn’t missed the way she stopped herself or how her eyes had shifted away as she decided against whatever it was she was about to say. He had known how many times the tutors had changed. He had been the one to replace them each time. He just never understood why, until he was speaking with her now.

“Alexander doesn’t receive the same venom in the lessons.” It wasn’t a question, but Y/N began shaking her head quickly.

“No. He does not.” Her eyes hadn’t come back up to Elijah. She had now been looking down at her hands. “I know this prophecy like the back of my hand. I know I am supposed to help restore the balance with Alex. I am human until necessary. I do not expect to be treated as some savior that has the world at their feet.” She finally brought her attention back up to Elijah. She could see something different within his eyes that she didn’t believe she had seen before. She just couldn’t place what it was. “But I’d prefer not to be treated as if I am filth for being the one to become a vampire in this deal.”

“You haven't mentioned this to your parents?” Elijah found himself walking around the desk, attempting to give some comfort. Though he made no move to actually do so.

“Not since the first time.” She shook her head. “They feel as though I am crying wolf when Alex doesn’t have the same thing happening to him.

Elijah nodded. “Tomorrow, you’ll have a new tutor. Alexander will continue on with the one he currently has.” When he saw her open her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “A vampire one to ensure the cycle doesn’t continue.”

“My parents-”

“Will be made aware of who they will be inviting into their home.” He gave a single nod of his head. “We will try it this way. If there isn't improvement, we’ll change it back to the way it was.” Elijah watched as she nodded her head. “That will be all.”

Y/N nodded her head before she turned around to leave. She had barely taken a step before turning back around. “Elijah, there is something you should know about, that my parents do not know yet. Only because I wouldn't put it past them to tell you.”

“What would that be?” He asked.

“I’ve- we’ve been having visions of things.” She watched the way his eyes widened slightly. “Things from the past and possibly future things from the look of it. But it wakes us up like a nightmare. Alex denies that it’s happening, but I can hear him pacing at night just after I have mine.”

“What was the last thing you saw?” He asked curiously.

“Chaos.” She shrugged slightly. “Witches being murdered. A woman with blonde hair tried to reach out, but couldn’t. It was like she was trying to tell me something and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“How often do these happen?” He knew this was something to do with who the twins were, what they were meant for.

“It randomly happens. Once or twice a month. But the first one happened the night of our birthday. “

Elijah moved back towards the desk and opened one of the bottom drawers before coming back around. He came to a stop directly in front of her and handed her an empty journal. “Write them down, please. Any detail you recall once you wake. Even if it frightens you to think, write it down. The next time either I drop by or your parents come to see me, bring it. That way we can try to piece together what you are seeing.”

Taking the journal, she held it close to her and nodded her head. “It's getting close, isn't it?”

Elijah sighed softly. “That I don’t know. But it seems like it may be the beginning of it.”

Her eyes fell to the journal in her hands. “There's one vision that I think you should know about now.” She couldn't bring her eyes back up. Not with what she was about to tell him. And the thoughts of the vision actually caused her eyes to well up.

Elijah hadn't missed the way her voice almost dropped to a whisper. Nor did he miss the way she was purposely keeping her attention from him. And for the first time since he met Y/N, he saw the fear that was seeping into her.

He gently brought his fingers under chin and lifted it, bringing her attention towards him. He saw the tears instantly and if anything the silver flecks in her eyes were almost gone.

“What is it?” His voice had almost been the same level as hers, with a comforting touch.

“I was still human.” She began. A need to make it known that detail was clear in the vision. “I was sold to Purgatory.”

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evita-shelby · 4 months ago

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The Wreckage

sequel to Look Both Ways where we get the reason why Lucy left and why Tommy and Eva couldn't make it work after she filed for divorce.

cw: refrenced suicide attempt, mental illnesses, unhealthy coping mechanisms, angst, drama, murder accusations.

you know something nice to distract yall from the US Elections tonight

@justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature @zablife @call-sign-shark @hoodeddreams13 @thegreatdragonfruta

After Eva had that vision of Lucy blowing her brains out, she takes the first train back to Small Heath and gets there just in time to stop her.

They have a much-needed talk, it falls on Eva to convince the redhead that it is not her fault.

Considering they are all in various states of disrepair, the witch fucking hates to be the Strong one while the other two points of the triangle get to lose their shit about it. Eva is too busy trying to keep them from hurting themselves to even mourn her own loss.

Tommy isolated himself and got so drunk he ended up in a holding cell for his own safety, Lucy ended up believing the Shelby Clan’s words that she shouldn’t have remained Tommy’s lover when he decided to court and marry Eva.

Eva barely had time to settle in her new leased townhouse before the Universe decided she could not just wash her hands of them and move on with her life. She hates it when her powers force her to be a better person.

The witch had to explain how her previous relationships had not left her in the condition needed to accept having a man who is not entirely hers, how she knows they will all be the better for it and that if anyone is at fault it is Eva for being too desperate to avoid her impending execution.

“How do you hold yourself together like that?” Lucy had asked as she confided in her about her plans to seek out her maternal family. She needed time as well, they all did.

“Because neither you nor Tommy have given me the chance to properly fall apart.” The witch admitted wryly, she was as honest with Lucy as she was with Tommy ---sometimes she’d use it to purposely hurt them to assuage her need of space and the fear that Tommy didn’t love her as much as she did him. “Trust me, I should have been in London crying my heart out and fucking a stranger with a thing for pregnant women instead of bailing Tommy out and keeping you from making my decision to save myself obsolete.”

“Then why save me? You could have been happy with him; you are giving him a child.” The redhead ---still wallowing in her despair and guilt--- demands to know why Eva didn’t seize her chance at happiness. “He said you told him you’d have four children and live in the country.”

“And if I had let you die, I would still be second place even if you were a ghost tormenting him. No life is worth living with a man who doesn’t love you the way you need him to anyways.” The dark-haired woman answered bluntly as they sat down a little further away from what would have been a crime scene.

“I can’t stay here. Not when everyone blames me for it.” By everyone she does mean everyone.

The Shelbys had taken Polly’s side and everyone else correctly guessed Tommy having a lover is what destroyed the fairytale romance.

It was a terrible place to be, Eva had not considered how cruel they’d be to Lucy only focused on leaving a man who placed Lucy over here time and time again. Why Tommy couldn’t just marry her and avoid this mess was beyond Eva’s comprehension.

Marriage is safety when you do not love in the conventional way.

“Have you finally given my suggestions to find your mother and your aunt some thought?” she asked the Red Demon who had been reluctant on accepting Eva’s offer to help her find her family because neither she nor Tommy appeared to be capable or surviving without the other.

They could, they are just too pessimistic and they refuse to give it a real, honest try. Eva had been there once, and now seeks to pull them out of the dark waters even if they like it there.

“Yes, maybe if I had said yes when you offered the first time we wouldn’t be in this mess.” And because Lucy wants to see if Tommy would be happy without her here. Not by being the ghost haunting him, but as the lover who left him. “You should’ve told me we were making you feel unloved.”

“I know, but I feared losing him, and while I do get on with you, I do not like you that way. We are just too different.” Part of Eva still wants the life she saw with Tommy that morning in Brighton. Is it wrong for her to desire her own happiness after life took everything from her? Why was she losing her one thread to life again? Why couldn't someone else be the one to sacrifice their happiness for her instead of her doing it every single time?

“I had guessed as much. I am not as ignorant as Polly makes me look.” Her ex lover nodded in agreement, and both said their goodbyes before parting ways.

The last person seen with Lucy was Eva. A gunshot was heard and only Eva came back.

There was no body nor signs of a struggle, but he knows what the witch is capable of. She had one demand when he refused to sign the papers in London.

Me or Her.

And when he refused to choose her then and there, he left to drown out his sorrows and make his choice.

He loved both women. He loved Eva fiercely, loved her fire, her strength and her ambition to take back everything she had lost.

But he loved Lucy more. He couldn’t just leave her like this. It would kill her.

“We will have everything we have ever wanted, mi amor.” She had proclaimed that morning after their wedding.

Four children, a baronetcy, a career in politics. They would be as happy and as in love as they were that morning.

He had been a fool to assume she saw Lucy in it.

And because he was going to choose Lucy over her, Eva killed her.

She was just as damaged as them. Lost everything she ever had, and now that she stood to lose the chance to have it all again with him, the witch took it.

What Lucy was capable off wasn’t close to what Eva could do. Eva had the advantage of money and magic.

“You killed her!” he cannot contain himself when he finds her still packing up what she owned in Ada’s old room. She had moved there when it became clear he would sleep with both women.

Eva is shocked from his words angry in ways he had never seen. The words had hurt her like a blow to the stomach and woke the beast underneath the soft warm skin

“Oh, yes, because I would be so fucking sloppy as to have the murder weapon in my hands and be so obvious!” The witch mocks him and denies it. "If I had killed her, you would have never found out about it."

He should’ve known she wanted him to choose her.

He couldn’t choose so she choose for him.

“You killed Lucy!” he shouts again as he comes to shake her and demand to know why she did this to her.

Eva slaps him hard enough to leave a mark.

“I didn’t fucking kill her! Why would I go through all the trouble of divorcing you if I intended to kill her?” the witch shouts back when even her hand on his cheek is not enough to break him out of that thought.

“Then where is she? Why were you the only one to come back here?” He knows deep down she didn’t and yet he cannot stop his mind from finding a reason to believe she did.

“She needed time away from here, to get away from a place that hates her. Just as I am doing.” We need to be away from you.

“Then why didn’t she tell me?” he asks the woman who he knows won’t ever forgive him.

“You wouldn’t have let her go, just as you are not man enough to let me go.” She hates as strongly as she loves, and now Tommy knows what the Witch’s anger feels like. “Just as you are so fucking full of it that you fucking came here and accused me of killing your precious Lucy.

Me, the mother of your child, the wife you promised to love and cherish before God and Men; and you couldn’t even love me enough to give me the presumption of innocence.” Her anger turns to hot tears as she lets him have it. “I should’ve left England when I had the chance.”

Tommy has only seen Eva cry three times in his life. The day he taught her to shoot, the day she left him and the day he killed her love for him.

“I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I know you would never do that.” Even when he means it, even when he tries to show her how truly sorry he is for the way he acted, for the fucking way he doubted her like this, his wife flinches away form him.

Moves away from him as if his touch physically hurt her.

“If it had been me who disappeared, you wouldn’t have accused Lucy of killing me.” She won’t ever forgive him, there is no love for him in her eyes only hatred he created and he will have to live with that for the rest of his days. “You do not love me like you love her, now I wonder if you ever loved me at all.”

But he does love her, and that is what makes it all worse. He’s lost her even when that is the last thing he wanted to do.

“Evie, please---” Tommy chases after her, refusing to accept the defeat he crafted with his own bloody hands.

“I will never set foot here unless you are dead.” The witch refuses to look at him as she too walks out of his life and leaves him standing on the wreckage of their love.

She was right when she called him a fucking fool when it comes to love. Always right when it comes to him and not once has she ever lied to him.

Which is why he will set this right, even if it means following her to London.

story continues in Perhaps

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