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hislittlesparklejumpropequeen · 16 days

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I never blamed you for loving me the way you did.

Lestat De Lioncourt x reader

Summary; Lestat De Lioncourt had a wife once. And a beautiful life. Until he lost everything. Warnings; fail marriage, blood and injuries, vampire sex, character deaths, suicide, self-hatred, penis in vagina sex, creampie, sex as a coping mechanism, child loss, grief and mourning, ANGST, hurt no comfort, BISEXUAL Lestat de Lioncourt

Word count: 11,181

(Pre-canon)

Lestat had spent decades on this planet. He had known thousands of people, been to hundreds of cities, lain with both women and men. He had fallen in love, once upon a time. And he had known loneliness. He knew it even before he was turned into this vile creature. When he had to spend his days in his cold bed as a little human child. As his father and brothers torture toy, his mother’s suffocating burden, when had to spend days in Satan’s dungeon with the dead and the undead, waiting for his final day see his god for the first and last time. The nights he prayed to God to spare his life and how his prayers turned to pleadings for his death. He begged it to be quick and painless. He wanted his mother’s comfort that he never knew. He wanted to go back to church and attend the sunday service with the people of his small town. He wanted to hold cross one more time and feel the love of Christ in his bones.

He thought about God and Jesus and his mother when Magnus nearly ripped his neck open with his sharp fangs one night. He drank so much that Lestat thought he saw a bright light in the corner of his eye. He felt his soul slip away from his body and the lightness wash over him. It was a comfort that he never felt in his entire life before. Not when he used to lay beside that tree on the hill and exchange glances with the pretty looking shepherd boy as the warm breeze danced with his own blonde curls. Not when he fell asleep with that beautiful daughter of the baker by the river, naked, arms wrapped around one another, his head on her chest, listening to her heart beats.

He had tasted blood for the first time when Magnus pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. Lestat started to drink. He had no idea why he was drinking. It was an instinctual command coming from his body, from his very existence. He felt life come back to him. But not his soul, it was gone. He felt his flesh harden like rocks and the colour drain away from his rosey cheeks of humanity. He felt Magnus’s blood flow trough his veins, fast and burning. He felt the warmth in his chest. His fingertips hurt with the sharp nails that grew in seconds. His eyes were sore and when he opened them again, the bright colours made him dizzy. He could hear everything and everyone. He could feel everything at once. He wanted to die. He wanted to beg Magnus to stop playing with him and let him die peacefully. And he was alone one more time when Magnus died in the flames, in front of his eyes. He smelled his burning rotten flesh. Dying like him disgusted Lestat.

Over time his yearning for God’s love turned into grudge. He wondered why God let him turn into this blood thirsty monster. Yes, that was what he was. A monster trough and trough. And no one would dare to love a monster like him. Even tho the monster would love anyone in the purest way possible if he was given chance.

And he did. Lestat loved Nicolas. As much as he could at least. Nicki was a troubled man since the first moment Lestat laid his eyes on him. He thought that being with him and having countless adventures could change him and plant seeds of happiness into soul. But it didn’t. He hesitated turning him into a vampire when Nicki was begging him to do so. He could sense the consequences of doing it. But spending centuries with the man he loved convinced Lestat. Nicki sinked into his dark thoughts more. His violin played with sadness and sorrow more than ever. Lestat felt his darkness in himself. He could not hear but see Nicki’s feelings in is empty looking eyes. He felt the guilt filling his heart as his first love was turning into someone he didn’t know. Armand’s presence wasn’t helping at all.

Lestat never thought about being loyal to his spouses when the world was full of fruits in different shapes and colours and tastes. There was so much to explore in his infinite life time. Armand was a capturing thing. With his eyes looking into his soul and reading him like an open book. Armand was offering so many things to Lestat that no one ever could. He yearned for the care and affection from Armand. He wanted to drink from him, lay with him and taught by him how to survive, live with the nature of a vampire. But being with Armand in front of the eyes of Nicki pushed the poor boy into madness more and more every passing day. Lestat was hungry but not for the destruction of the ones he loved.

He left Paris with his mother. He had left Nicki and Armand and the theatre. Only to receive the news of Nicki’s death. He fell onto his knees when they sent his violin to him. He touched the places where Nicki’s fingertips traced over. And he played it for the last time to feel his lover again. It didn’t matter if he was feeling Nicki’s love, rage or sadness. He only wanted a piece of him. His lips trembled when he played his favourite melody. The melody Nicki would play for Lestat after the moments they spent in each others arms, tasted one another and explore the corners of pleasure. He remembered that fearless little boy that he met with back in the day, when they were both humans. He remembered the shy glances of Nicki when he was looking at Lestat’s eyes, lips and every detail on his face. He remembered the moments they danced together and his mother would sing for them. He remembered their last happy moments. Tears of blood flowed down his cheeks and stained his white shirt.

He was alone again when his mother left him. He felt unlovable. Even his own mother couldn’t stand his presence. How could anyone in this world would love a man like him? By that time he had forgotten how it felt like being close to god and feel his love. He knew that God left him when he was turned into a seed of devil. He wanted to scream and shout and tell God that he never had a chance to choose. If he could he would choose God over everyone and everything without a second thought. Therefore Lestat knew believing in something higher and more powerful than you was a great comfort and happiness a man could ever have.

He traveled for years after his mother left him. He wondered around the countries, saw humans kill one another, cheat on one another, trick one another and destroy one another. He saw that it was not only him that was hungry for something he couldn’t name. Then his bright greyish blue eyes found the figure of a little human being in the crowd, dancing with a beautiful smile on her face. His eyes watched you for the whole dance. He heard your fast breaths, how they go trough your delicate nose and reach to your lungs that were still fresh and youthful compared to his rotten body. He saw the drops of sweat sliding trough your temple, your hair damp and the braid crown that was about to fall off. He heard your laugh, full of life and joy. He saw your skirts fly off as you tap your feet on the floor with your human strength. Your dance made him smile. His smile widened as you kept dancing and laughing. He felt like he never saw something or someone more alive. He felt a warmth in his chest. So different from the one felt when he first drank Magnus’s blood. It was type of warmth he felt when he was still human, when he had fears of a human and desires of a human.

He took you into his arms as you were still dancing. The dance floor was crowded as you felt his hands on you. You turned around and saw the most beautiful pair of eyes that you ever saw in your entire life. It felt natural to be in his arms, to be close to him and smiling at him. Lestat looked into your eyes as both of you danced trough the song. You didn’t want this song to ever finish. His body was pressed against yours and it felt like you were the only ones in the dance floor, in the world. He felt your gentle hands on his arms, going to his shoulders. It felt tingly and he realised how much he missed this human feeling. He laughed when you accidentally stepped on his feet and his laugh sounded more beautiful than thousand melodies that you ever heard. Which musician could ever write a song that sounded like his joy? Who could ever be the inspiration and make any musician to write it?

You watched his blonde long curls shine under the colourful lights. The thought of running your fingers trough his curls sent shivers down your spine. Lestat shook slightly when he heard your thoughts. You didn’t think about laying with him right away or take advantage of things that he might offer you. You only wanted to caress his hair. Something his mother never did. He closed his eyes and leaned down to your neck. The flavour of your blood filled his nostrils in seconds. He felt dizzy and wrapped his arms tighter around you. You felt his lips ghost over your skin and you had to hold onto him.

“Wait for me, ma cherie.” He whispered and you opened your eyes. Your arms were on the air, hugging no one. You felt coldness wash over your burning cheeks.

“Wait for me.” You heard his voice again. You turned around but he was no where to be seen. Your hands held your long skirts and put the strands of hair behind your ear. People around you kept dancing as you walked out of the dance floor with shaky legs.

Lestat watched you for the rest of the night from far afar. You didn’t dance again or laugh. You sat down, sipped on your drink, answered question when they were referring to you and looked for him with curious eyes. He felt sense of pride in his heart. Not because a mortal girl was mesmerised by him but because it was you that was mesmerised by him. You were not his prey of the night. He could fill that place with someone anytime, anyone could be his meal tonight. No, you were meant to be alive, and you were meant to be by his side.

For eight long weeks he watched your every step. He watched you wake up every morning, have breakfast with your family, attend your daily lessons, sew with your lady friends, read your books by your window and think about him. He could hear your sweet dreams about him, even when he was in his house. You were waking up everyday, hoping to see him somehow. You thought about telling your mother many times. Maybe she would’ve known about that otherworldly lord that attended the party in the gambling club. He watched you blush like a cherry in summer when one of your mother’s friends pointed out that you were zoning out and getting lost in your thoughts pretty often, just like a young lady in love would do. Your mother laughed it off as you kept your eyes on the floor and your thoughts on Lestat.

He watched you go home that day. Slip away from the heavy layers of your dress, undo your beautifully braided hair and lay on your back on the bed. Your room was lightened by the few candles on your desk and nighstand. He could hear your heart beating fast as you pictured his eyes again and again. Oh how beautiful he was. As if carved by God himself carefully within the image of an angel. You could feel that weird, tingly sensation in your stomach when you remembered his lips on your skin. Lestat smiled softly as you drifted into sleep thinking about him. And he was in your room. He walked to your desk first and looked over the poetry books you were reading, and the some poems you tried to write. A little poet i have hear, Lestat thought.

He walked to your bed. His hands traced over your neck to your chest and lastly to your stomach. His touch was so soft and light, he could feel you hardly. But he could feel your warmth so clearly. He could feel it even with just being in your room. He tried to remember the last time he felt the warmth of humanity in him. Nearly two centuries. He sat on your bed and looked at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to sleep for night without all those memories haunting him? He listened to your heart beats for a moment and the way your eyes were moving slightly during your sleep. He leaned over you, to your neck. He inhaled deeply as his lips were close to your skin. For a moment he feared that his cold lips would wake you up but you didn’t open your yes. Your blood made his mouth watery. He was so hungry. For blood yes, but he was hungry for something more. Something that could make him feel alive after two centuries of being dead. Something that would make his heart beat faster with excitement again.

He wondered if God was looking down at two of you in that moment. If he was, would he let Lestat to defile one more of his human children? If yes, why? Wasn’t it both torture for Lestat and them? He had the blood of thousands on his hands. And there was no soap or water in this world that could wash it away from him. He was carrying all his victims within himself. They were in his veins, staining his fangs.

He laid his body on top of yours slowly, gently. His broad shoulders blocked your eyes and his legs trapped you between them. Your eyes opened wide with the pressure on your stomach. First you could only see darkness, then you felt a cold hand against your cheek.

“Don’t be afraid, mon cœur.” He whispered. Your fast breathing calmed in seconds. He looked down at your face and your gaze met with his own. You looked divine under the moonlight, under him. The way your eyes were still half open, in the grasp of sleep. And the way your cheeks were flushed with shyness and excitement. But not fear. His eyes found your lips lastly. Your lips that were slightly open, sucking in little breaths, looking all soft and warm. Lestat felt your hardened tetes peaking trough your nightgown, pressed against his tough chest.

You saw his bright blue eyes go darker with lust and his teeth grow into sharp fangs that only a wild animal would have. You felt his sharp nails digging into your skin and make you bleed. You both hissed as his fingertips got covered with your blood. He snarled just like an animal as the smell of fresh blood surrounded his very being. Your body trembled and you held onto his arms tightly

“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered. You did not feel horror, or rage or sorrow. You were only exited as he held you in his arms. Lestat smiled softly at your question. He pressed his nose against your cheek and inhaled your scent one more time. Your humanly, sweet smell made him dizzy. He felt an unfamiliar sensation down below his stomach.

“No, I will give you life. Better than the one you have.” He said and bite down your neck. First thing you felt was a sharp pain that made your neck go numb. You could not move, rather dare to move. It felt like if you moved, the pain would get worse. Lestat let his body go and laid on top of you fully, giving his whole weight. You opened your legs and welcomed his slender figure. And for the first time in decades, Lestat felt like he was home.

The wound that his fangs made on your neck started to burn when he licked and played with it with his tongue. The tears filled your eyes as Lestat laid his head on your neck. He kept drinking from you, slowly, taking little sips with the tip of his tongue, still breathing in your scent. His arms were wrapped around you and you could feel him all over you. He felt himself harden against your hips. He had to do it. He had to put an end to his loneliness.

He slashed his wrist with his nails, deep enough for him to bleed. Then he pressed his wrist against your lips. Your slowly closing eyes opened up at once as the strange taste of blood hit your tongue. Lestat shifted his position to open up the breaches of his trousers. He watched you drink him up hungrily as he lifted your skirt up to your waits. You felt his cold fingertips tracing over your bare stomach and thighs. His blood tasted sweet. Sweeter than the liquors you tasted in the balls, sweeter than the sherbets in the centre of the candies you ate, sweeter than the tropical fruits that your father bought very rarely.

You felt your whole body burn in need, in lust. You felt the buzzing sensation in your brain and your ears ringed. You pushed his hand away and pressed your lips against his own. You had to have him. It was a primal instinct that made you think so. Lestat held your back and positioned himself against your leaking entrance. Your warm walls welcomed him. You were sweet, warm and wet. In that moment it felt like it was all he ever needed. You tasted each other’s blood on your lips as his tongue explored your mouth. The he pushed you back and pressed his wrist back onto your lips. He wanted you to drink, cure your thirst and hunger with him.

He thrusted into you hard and deep as you kept drinking and drinking. He had to tend to you, he had to care for his fledgling. You were his. From head to toe, you belonged to him. Magnus had never claimed him as his own. His mother had no maternal instinct for him. He belonged to no one in this entire world. Nicki was in his own little world despite the love Lestat gave him. And Armand would never belong to anyone. Oh but you, you were perfect for him. Your walls tightened and it drove him over the edge. He ripped his arm away from you and held your face. You whined in need for his blood. His length went deeper and deeper into you as your shaky breaths hit his face.

He heard your heart sync with his own as he looked into your eyes. Your face was covered in blood as you moaned in pleasure. Lestat wanted to get lost in you. He wanted to be buried in you. He spent himself in you with one last thrust and felt your walls tighten more than before as you choked on your breaths and held him tight against you. He looked down at you and saw your thighs and his pubes sticky with blood. I had claimed her in every way possible, he thought.

He let you lay back down as he laid himself on top of you. You tried to catch your breath and he laid his head on your chest, between your breasts. Lestat kissed your skin, his lips left marks of blood on you. Then he felt your hands in his hair. Your fingers played with his lose curls that was ruined when he lost himself in pleasure. He felt your fingertips caressing his forehead and temple, gently, softly. You were still gentle with him even after what he did to you. His shoulders relaxed under your touch and he let out a shaky breath. What was he going to do now? He should’ve ask you before turning you and prisoning you into darkness. How he was different from Magnus when he just grabbed you like a piece of meet and drank your essence of life just to replace it with his rotten, blood of death?

“My family will think I coupled with the devil.” You whispered as you kept caressing his hair. Lestat’s breath hitched in his troath. He looked up to you under his lashes. He looked like a scared little boy in this light. A little boy that feared the monsters under his bed, scared of his father’s rage, scared of life and death. The tears of blood filled his eyes as he looked into your eyes. He saw the bright colour of your irises that matched your new nature. He nodded as he agreed with your statement.

“You have.” He said quietly as he avoided your eyes. He heard your small chuckle, felt his arm move as your chest rised up. You were still so calm. Maybe you were in shock after what he did to you. Poor girl, Lestat thought. I have driven one more innocent into madness.

“How come devil is so pretty then?” You asked as your fingertips trailed around his eyebrows. He stopped frowning with your touch. Then your touch continued to his eyes. Then to his nose. You caressed his straight bone. Finally your fingertips reached to his lips. Your hand brought grace to his well shaped lips. He planted a small kiss to your fingers.

“I never knew devil would look so perfect.” You whispered. As if even you couldn’t believe what you were saying. But Lestat heard you. He heard you so well that he received your compliment as a sharp pain into his heart. Growing up he had always heard that he was a pretty boy. Many of his lovers had said so even after his humanity was ravaged. But he couldn’t see anything but a monster when he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a attraction for violence. He couldn’t feel fulfilled if he didn’t kill. And he couldn’t satisfy himself if he didn’t hurt.

“You don’t know what I am. How can you say I am perfect after what I’ve done to you?” He asked his his tears started to spill from his eyes. You caught them before they could flow down his cheeks. Your small, soft smile remained on your lips. Lestat thought that he never seen someone so beautiful. He was surrounded by your smell, your beauty and compassion. He was covered in your blood and you were carrying his blood. He felt himself warm next to you. Centuries of coldness in his chest was replaced with your smile. He could feel your body calling for him, desperate for his touch and taste. There was a soreness in his troath. He wanted to scream it out.

“You have bewitched me.” You said, almost like a confession. His sharp gaze found your eyes immediately. Lestat’s tears kept spilling from his eyes as he laid his head on your chest again. He stayed in your arms who knows for how long. How could he let you go know? When you were calling him perfect, even after seeing his blood thirsty animalistic side, touching him with love and passion, carrying a piece of him in you, opening your arms for him without a question and accepting him as he is?

The next time Lestat knew loneliness was the hardest time.

You were a great companion, lover and a wife for him after the night he had you in your room, in your bed of youth and innocence. You were a brave little thing that was ready to face an army for him. He felt like the luckiest man alive when your laughs echoed trough the walls of your home. After decades he was finally living, sleeping in a house that he called home. He tried to taught you french but you were impatient and often ran away from his grasp to play his favourite melodies on the piano. He couldn’t get mad at you and watched you for hours as you played, looking at him for the whole time with a big grin on your face. He bought you the finest dresses in your favourite colours, had beautiful jewellery made for you. He loved making you happy more than everything in the whole world.

You were getting into an excited hurry every time you two decide to host a party in your home. People of your city were adoring both of you as a couple. You were so cheerful that there was no room people didn’t smile and the place didn’t lighten up as you entered. Men and women considered themselves lucky if you danced with them. But Lestat knew your first and last dance always belonged to him. Your heart and soul belonged to him. He didn’t know how many nights he pressed his forehead against yours, smiled like a teenage boy in the bliss of love and lifted you into air as your skirts flied behind you and your laughs filled ears of fortunate mortals. His heart was syncing with someone that loved him deeply. And he was so full of love, that he couldn’t remember the times he had lost himself in darkness.

He would have children with you if he could. If he was still a human. He would love to raise a boy that looked like you and a girl that looked like him. He had imagined the picture many nights as he closed his eyes in his coffin, his arms wrapped tight around you. He could see them running around the house, laughing beautifully like you. He could see them growing up and having their own lives as he grew old with you. I was so close to have a life, he thought after every single time he dreamt. The thought brought him sorrow. But he had you. It was more than enough for him.

Lestat met with your family when you two decided to get married. Your parents loved him. They called him a great gentleman with knowledge and culture. A husband fit for my daughter’s hand, your father said. But as the years went by and you still didnt have children or added wrinkle over there and there, your family sank nto silence. The letters became lesser and lesser. By the last letter, it was a dry piece of paper with few words written on it. No feelings, no longing or great love of your mother. You two attended the funeral of your father as he passed away after 15 years of your marriage to Lestat. Your mother’s eyes filled with tears and hatred as you watched your father getting buried. Lestat held you as you fought so hard to keep your tears back from spilling. You could see everyone’s eyes on you, examining you with fear planted in their heart, convinced that you are no longer the girl they knew. You tried to approach your mother and got blocked by cousins and other relatives.

“Tell that devil to leave my poor girl's body and find someone else to be the servant of satan.” You mother’s harsh voice made you step back. And Lestat could hear your heart shatter into pieces. He knew her words were referring to him. How many times I will hear the same thing, phrased differently? He thought. After the funeral you refused to leave your bed chambers for days. You didn’t eat even if Lestat hunted for you. You refused to sleep either. As the sun rose from the east and Lestat closed his coffin, he could hear your muffled cries in your own coffin. You couldn’t get yourself to sleep with him. You couldn’t get yourself to face to world. Your mind kept drifting back to the times you were with your family and how much they loved you. Lestat never wished something as much he wished to hear your thoughts and take your pain away. If he could, he would take all it of to himself. He was used to be in pain since he knew himself. But seeing his sunshine fade away was like tying his hands and feet and abandon him to starve to death.

After days, you left your coffin for the first time. Lestat’s bright eyes scanned your body head to toe. All he could see was a hungry vampire that was broken. Your under eyes were purple and your skin was paler than usual. The veins under your skin was showing trough. You could barely walk and talk as he held you in his arms and carried to the living room. Your hands fell to your thighs and he fell to his knees in front of you. His eyes were filled with concern and fear.

“Ma cherie, you need to eat something.” He said as he tried to make eye contact with you desperately. But your eyes were avoiding him by all cost. Your lips parted and some whispers left your mouth. Lestat leaned closer to hear you.

“It’s you.” He heard you say. He frowned and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly after a moment. You looked like a mess in front of him. And he wanted nothing more than pulling you back into his arms and never let you go.

“You never did.” You said as you finally made eye contact with him. “You are the reason of my current state.”

Lestat felt your words form into a dagger and stab him on his heart. His stomach dropped and he fought the urge to get away from you. He wanted to step away and take one more step away and one more… Your eyes were looking at him differently. There was a feeling he never felt from you before. Hate.

“You made me what I am and you ruined me.” Your voice sharp and your eyes full of bitterness. You collected all your strength to get up but it was not enough to keep you standing. Lestat held you gently before you could fall. Then he felt your sharp nails scratch him and rip his hands away from you.

“Don’t ever touch me.” You hissed and crawled away on the big sofa. Lestat’s eyes could not leave the empty space that you used to sit. He could hear your heart beating fast and he could almost taste the poison in your words you spoke out and you were going to speak out.

“You put me in a prison that I will never be able to leave. No matter what I do.” You said. Lestat looked over you and saw the tears of blood flow down your cheeks. Your fragile figure broke his heart repeatedly. He came in front of you on his knees and tried to hold your hand but you pulled away again. He sighed and did his best to hold his tears back.

“It will get better. In time everything will feel less weird and more normal. You will embrace what you are.” Your eyebrows lifted and a cold smirk appeared on your lips.

“And what is that? A murderer? A sinner? A cursed woman?” Your voice raised with each word and Lestat moved away. He turned around to avoid your eyes and words. His left hand found the corner of the window to lean down and his right hand covered his mouth. Muffled cries left his lungs as he shut his eyes tight.

“You will carry this feeling for the rest of your life.” You said and your presence left the house in seconds. Lestat did not move from his spot as he felt you going away from him. Your heart beats faded away in the night until he couldn’t hear you anymore. Me and you both, he wanted to say.

8 years.

He didn’t see you for 8 years after that night. He knew you were out of the city, far away from him. He called for you every night for a year at first. He screamed your name in darkness, hoping desperately that maybe you would hear and answer him. But you didn’t. Once his voice became hoarse, he wrote letters to your family. But got nothing back. Was it still possible for them to take you back after everything? Your mother couldn’t look at you and your siblings had nothing but fear and disgust in their eyes when they glanced at your direction. You were truly all alone in the entire world. You had no one but the person who trapped you into loneliness.

Lestat wandered around the city for days, searching for your scent, your gentle figure. You were no where to be found. He stopped going out after some time and trapped himself into his house. His coffin was full of pictures he could find of you. For nights he stared at your smiling face, frozen in those moments of happiness and joy. He missed your smile. He craved for you in every way possible. The house felt like a grave and his good old friend, the coldness was back. The memories of his youth started to haunt him one by one as he laid in his coffin during daytime. He could not find sleep when your side of the coffin was all empty.

He thought about his life before and after Magnus. He wondered if he would have a good life still if he wasn’t turned into a vampire. The thought of not meeting with you sent a gut-wrenching pain to his stomach. You’d be centuries apart, in different lives and countries. The picture of you marrying a decent man that your family found for you, wear a wedding dress for him, have his children, raise kids that looked like you and some man, have fights and love making nights with him, grow old with him and hold his hand while you greeted by the merciful arms of death made him tear up. He felt his heart pound painfully fast in his chest. A sob ripped from his throat and this time he didn’t cover his mouth. The guilt ate him from inside out. The honeymoon was over and now, he had the face the fact that he stole your whole life, your one chance of being alive, only for him to take your love for himself, selfishly and hungrily.

As the days turned into weeks and weeks urned into months, Lestat started to lose his hopes of seeing you again. Once again he was assured that no one could love a man like him. He didn’t want to stay in the house that use to be the home to two of you. Every corner was you and he couldn’t finish a day without thinking of the times you had spent together. But the small chance of you coming back made him stay. If you wanted to come back, you would love to see everything same and your husband waiting for you, Lestat told himself in the moments of doubt.

And one day you opened that door and came back. He was in the music room when he heard your heart beats. He felt like the time had frozen and his heart skipped a beat. His fingers on the piano stopped, his lips twitched with longing and tears formed in his eyes. When he saw you again, standing in front of him, beautiful as always, he wanted to get on his knees in front of you and beg you to forgive him for what he did to you. Then his eyes found the little body of the human boy in your arms. The child was maximum 4 and he was shaking uncontrollable. His blonde hair was dump on his forehead and weak breaths mixed with moans were leaving his mouth. Lestat didn’t need to be doctor to know that the boy was in great pain. And perhaps fear.

“He is going to die.” You said and hearing your voice after years made Lestat break down. He had to turn around at the doorway to hide his tears.

“Help me. Please.” Cracked noise from your sore throat was heard in the room. The boy was clinging to your dress, like a little lamb. You walked towards your husband as you held the little child tighter.

“Please save him. For me?” Lestat didn’t know if he was feeling grateful that you were back, guilty for his mistake or angry because you only showed up when you needed something from him. He looked at the boy. He was cute little thing with blue eyes like ocean and long blonde lashes that framed his doe eyes. He saw his clear tears run down his face as he coughed. An innocent, Lestat thought. An innocent dying in the arms of the woman I love.

“You can turn him. I don’t know how to. But you do. Please Lestat.” He saw your tears dripping down to the boy’s hands on your dress. The pain in your voice twisted his stomach. You sounded helpless and he whished nothing more than take this feeling away from you.

He shook his head no.

“I can’t.” He spoke. The dryness in his voice made more tears fall down your eyes. You held the boy closer to your heart. His head rested on your heart as you caressed his blonde curls. The curls that reminded you so much of Lestat.

“Yes, you can. Do it for me, please!” You were ready to beg if you needed to. There was nothing more you wanted than saving his little life. He had to live. He had to survive this filthy world and show everyone that he was strong. And maybe you would have a chance of being a mother.

“Children cannot be turned.” Lestat said as he reached out to hold you but you took a step back. You were shaking your head endlessly as tears kept flowing down your cheeks.

“Great laws forbid it. Otherwise a vampire child would live in misery.” He remembered Marius’s voice as he spoke these words to him before he sent him away. Someone under 17 cannot be given the dark gift.

“Laws? Are you serious? He will die if you don’t save him!” Your scream echoed through the walls and found his ears and heart. Your anger and sorrow shook him slightly. He knew he was walking on thin ice in this very moment. You could turn around and leave him again. And never come back this time. Who knows maybe you would find another vampire out there that could be your companion? Or turn this little boy for you to only make you happy? The thought hardened his blood and tightened his chest.

“My love, he won’t be saved if I turn him. He will live his life in desperation. For something more. Something he will never have.” He said gently as he wiped his tears away. He had to be strong. For both of you. His eyes found the boy again. He was so thin. Lestat wanted to put an end to his suffering. The boy’s eyes opened slightly and he looked at you. His fingers were shut tight over the fabric of your dress. Lestat could feel your love and care for him. You felt like you had to protect him. The boy’s big eyes found him. He looked at him with softness and hope. His eyes are full of life even when his life slips away from his body, just like hers were once upon a time, Lestat thought.

“We can be a family Lestat. He can be our son.” You said quietly. As if you feared that the world would take him away from you if they heard your words. “He looks just like you.”

Lestat didn’t look away from the boy. Yes, he did look like him. His blonde curls were just over his shoulders and his nose was small like Lestat’s nose when he was little. His mother loves him, unlike mine, he told himself.

“You and I and him. We can be happy together. We can try again.” The desperation in your voice broke his heart. You were willing to go back to him. To where you belong. Lestat wanted you back in the house, in his arms, in his coffin. He wanted you on his lips, on his skin. He wanted your fangs back in his neck and your heart on his. He wanted to be the one made you smile again and he wanted to be your dance partner in your extravagant parties. He wanted the boy to watch two of you as you danced and clap for his parents. He wanted to take him into his arms and feel a father’s strength in his bones. He wanted the pure and unconditional love of a son. The one he used to have for his father, way before he became his father’s unexplainable enemy. He wanted to see the boy become a man and be his pride.

“We are killers. A child has no place among the demons.” His words cut sharp as the boy started to cough again. The blood covered his lips as you tried to calm him down. Your own tears were spilling uncontrollably and sobs were coming between your lips. Lestat heard your irregular heartbeats.

“He cannot die.” You said between your sobs and cries as the boy kept coughing his blood out. You fell to your knees and kept his little head on your heart. His small, fragile hands were holding your hand tight. The fear in his eyes were piercing trough Lestat chest. He knelt beside you, held your back to his chest as you rocked back and forth. Both of you stopped breathing as the boy’s heartbeats started to slow down. His breaths calmed down and he closed his eyes. He clinged to your cold skin and did not let your hand go. With his last breath your head dropped back to Lestat’s shoulder. His arms were wrapped tight around both you and the boy. His long fingers intertwined with your and the boy’s hand. His decreasing temperature was slowly matching the coldness of both vampires.

“My son…” he hard your whisper. Your eyes were focused on the ceiling. Lestat buried his face in your neck when your cries filled the room. If only I could take all your pain away, he wanted to say but words did not leave his mouth. He could take your pain away, if only he made you a mother and gave you another family.

Lestat carried you to the coffin when you were exhausted from crying. He took the boy’s lifeless body and burnt it while you slept. He stayed until he was nothing but ash. He looked at the scene as the flames took him away and listened as his bones cracked and his flesh melted down. He didn’t let himself cry. It was his vilest murder. He had no right to feel guilt or shame.

He laid beside you in the coffin. You were whispering and crying still, even in your sleep. His fingers traced over your hands gently. He looked at your sleeping form and took a deep breath. Your scent filled his lungs once again after many years. His insides blossomed and he felt the life come back to his body. You were his home. It didn’t matter to him which form you were in or how you looked like. It didn’t matter if you were laughing or in sorrow. As long as you were beside him, he was happy to have you in any way. And you were back. Lestat knew he could not let you go again. Not after this night. Not when you needed him the most. He was the only one you had left with and he had no intention of leaving you alone. He was going to make you happy again. Just two of you were enough.

“You came into my life when I needed you the most. Now it is my turn to bring you joy.” He whispered to your ear and wrapped his arm around your waist. Your eyes opened as he closed his own. Your gaze traveled trough his beautiful features. He was beautiful as the first day you saw him. Years ago, in that party, where you were still innocent and human. Now I know that devil can be this pretty, you thought.

Lestat was in the corner of your mind for 8 years. You were carrying him in you wherever you traveled to. His face was carved onto your eyelids and you were too afraid to close your eyes. His voice kept echoing in your head when you killed, drank or spared a life. You played his favourite songs on the piano when you needed him by your side. But no matter how much you missed him, you couldn’t forgive him. You knew Lestat De Lioncourt loved you. You felt it in your bones, in your flesh. You carried his love in your veins. But you knew he cursed you forever. And you weren’t naive like you used to be to forgive and forget what he did to you. You were young and in love. How could you know it meant to lose your everything when you gave yourself to him that night?

You could not deny the fact that you were happy at first. Lestat gave you things no one ever did. He respected you, he loved you gently and made you feel like the only woman in the world. And you loved him. There was something in Lestat that pulled you to him. You were like opposite sides of a magnet. It felt right to touch and kiss him. Your heart craved for his heart just like your body craved for him. When he was deep in you, made you scream his name and planted soft kisses to your face, life was good. Until you started to see question marks on people’s faces. You were in peace with your fate and the things came with your new life. But everything seemed meaningless once it cost you your family. Lestat’s arms failed to comfort you when you were invited to your own father’s funeral at the last minute and saw that no one wanted you there. Not even your own mother.

You were motherless and fatherless. You were a demon who could only see the world under the dark sky. You could only stay alive if you killed humans. And seeing Lestat every single moment of your life vexed you. At the time you needed someone to blame other than yourself. You were already aware of your mistakes. And knowing that Lestat still turned you despite the fact that he knew what kind of a curse he was bringing on you, made his existence unbearable. You had to leave. You had to be alone with yourself after decades of marriage. Still, no matter where you went, Lestat was the only thing your heart ever wanted. You would always love him.

Then you found him. Leonardo. That was his name, you tried to remember. He was the son of a homeless woman that lived on the street of your small home. It was nighttime when you heard his cries. You saw his dead mother and him crying his eyes out over her body. You felt your heart shatter into pieces with the sight in front of you. He was so small and so scared. When his blue eyes found you and you could see his face clearly, you knew that you could not leave him to die. His arms reached out to you when you knelt beside him. He didn’t know why his mother wasn’t waking up and taking him into her arms. He was shaking and coughing between his sobs full of fear.

“Mummy.” He cried as you caressed his blonde curls to calm him down. He was cold and hungry and sick. I want to help you. I need to hold you, you thought as he snuggled to your chest. There was only one person who could help you. But could you go back to him? After everything that happened between you? Could you find that strength in yourself or would he take you back?

“Mummy!” Leonardo screeched in your lap in pain as his coughs got harder. His little hands were trying to hold your arms. You had to do it. Both for yourself and him. So that was now you found yourself in front of the door of your home.

You reached to hold his cheek. His breath quickened with your touch but his eyes kept shut. You were pressed against him. Your lips were nearly touching and you could feel his breaths all over your face. Your fingertips traced over his face to his neck and to his chest. His body shook. The soft touch made you both shiver when your hand slipped under his expensive shirt. It has been years since you last touched one another and you realised how much you missed him. You needed to touch him. When you pressed your lips against his, Lestat’s arms wrapped tighter around you. His kisses and biting continued to your neck and to your chest. The soft lips of your lover were sending you into oblivion. You had to be closer to him. Closer than being skin to skin, something more, something more painful, something full of love and the suffering that comes with it. Something that would destroy that pit in your stomach and be worth of all your sorrow.

“I love you. I live you. I-“ Lestat’s raggedy voice stopped as he kept kissing you hungrily. His words weren’t able to keep up with his desire. Your mind was foggy as he undressed himself first, then you. Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you were feeling his cold fingers spread the wetness between your legs. His fingertip caressed your leaking opening and moans left your mouth. You could barely see because of tears when you held his face and made him look at you. He was crying too. You kissed him. His tears and yours mixed up and found your pressed lips. The taste of blood was exquisite, vibrating, destructive.

The next thing you knew was you were on top of him, the lid of the coffin was wide opened, he was inside you, fully. You rode him to the bottom of the coffin, hard and deep as his impressive size stretched you out immensely. Your eyes rolled back when his hands groped your breasts. He was talking but you couldn’t hear him. Your ears were ringing and the pain was too great. Your moves became faster and harsher. Your sharp nails digged into his chest and scratched him all over.

“You’re crying.” Finally you heard him and opened your eyes again. It was a mess in his coffin. His chest, between your legs, his face, your body, you were both covered in blood. Yet Lestat managed to smile when he saw the unsettled look on your face. He held your waits tight and moved you back on forth gently on him. He kept caressing your body and say sweet nothings as he controlled your movements.

All the memories of your shared life passed before your eyes as you went closer to the edge. Your legs shook when Lestat’s thumb found your pearl and circled it skilfully. There was a soreness in your throat and your climax was building in your lower belly. The image of two of you filled your mind over and over again. The image of you happy. Would you be able to be like that again? You didn’t know. And learning the answer of this question scared you to death.

“I can’t.” You cried out when your orgasm hit you hard. Your body froze as Lestat kept his hands on you and reached to his climax. His dead seed spilled into you. Deep into your dead womb that was never going to be a home to a babe. Was Lestat enough for you to be fulfilled? Were you going to be enough for him when he got bored of searching for things that made him feel human, made him feel young again?

When you made eye contact again, you could see fear and doubt in his eyes. He was scared that you were going to leave him, just like everyone he ever loved. And he was not sure if it was still you in your body. He was looking for you in the eyes he saw for thousands of times and more. Yet nothing about your eyes felt familiar. Your body felt like you, your kisses felt like you, your heart felt like you. But it was almost like a death itself looking down at him in this moment. He left out a deep breath when you leaned down and laid on his chest.

His heartbeats were fast under your cheek. You turned a little and pressed a tender kiss to his chest. And another. And another. You kissed him until new tears stained your face. You hoped that you could find him again one day. You hoped that you were both humans when you meet again. You hoped that you had a life in another world, with the love of your life. You knew Lestat would find you no matter what. He would love you the same if not more. He would be yours in every lifetime until you had no more love to give.

“I’ll love you forever. Now and always. Until my last day and after.” You whispered but your quiet words reached to Lestat’s ears. He smiled sadly, his tears spilled down to his paper white pillow. He tried to speak but his voice shattered.

“And I you.” He could only say without sobbing. He shut his eyes tight when he heard you fall asleep on him. Tomorrow was going to be better. Everything was going to alright. He had you in his arms. And he needed nothing more.

—

When Lestat opened his eyes again, the first thing he felt was pain. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t even press his lips together to cover up his moans. He licked his dry, chapped lips with the last strength before he was breathless again. In the darkness of his coffin, his shiny eyes looked around desperately. He could feel the air hitting his burned body and make his wounds boil. He cried out your name. You were not in his arms. Where could you possibly be? Were you harmed too? What if you were harmed worse than him? You were younger and weaker than your maker. Lestat had to put himself together and find you, his dear fledgling. When he pushed opened his coffin lid, he saw the the wide open curtains that were usually closed. It was dark outside. The moon light was the only thing that was bright in the pitch black room.

It was only then he saw his burned body. Front of his arms, his whole chest, his thighs and his face were all covered in ashy wounds that were slowly healing. His blood red flesh was showing trough the burned skin pieces. They sizzled as the new skin was forming over them. But before he could think about his wounds, he had to find you. Why the curtains were open? They were always supposed to be shut. Just in case if any of you had to wake up when sun was still up during the day. He dragged his feet to the short, wide corridor of the second floor. All the doors and the windows were open, he frowned in confusion. His head was banging quiet like a bomb explosion. His body was aching and he was afraid. He was afraid just like the night Magnus took him from his room.

He walked fast as he could and entered the music room. You were no where to be seen. Lestat’s nose scrunched when he breathed in the strange smell in the room. He felt the smell stick onto his lungs and enter every bit of him. It was haunting and indescribable. It almost felt like he could taste it on his tongue. That strange, unpleasant, obnoxious flavour was so familiar on Lestat’s throat, yet he could find no name for it. He took few steps to his piano. His favourite tunes ringed in his ears. He could see your ghost of a fingers on the keyboard, playing all gracefully.

When he looked down, a pile of grey, powdery substance caught his attention. How could he possibly not see this when he entered the room? He got on his knees and the source of smell was undeniably found. As he touched the powder, he felt his whole body shake in horror. His eyes closed tight when the faded memory of you getting up from the coffin came back.

“I love you. I love you. I love…” the words were repeated over and over again. Not thousands but maybe hundreds and thousands of times. He could hear you. You were not in the coffin. He could hear your steps in the room. Then he could hear your steps in the corridor. You were going in and out of rooms. Lestat could hear you mumbling things under your breath. He could hear your heartbeats and your rushed moves.

He wanted to open the lid of his coffin and get out. It was probably near sunrise and you had to go back to sleeping. When he pushed the lid, something blocked his exit. He tried to kick it and punch it when he heard you play the piano and keep talking.

“I want to see the sun rise in the sky again.” You said. “I want to see the clouds on the blue ocean of time.”

He called for you but you were not listening to him. As you played the melody from start to end, the fear in Lestat’s heart grew stronger. And when your fingers stopped, he felt a sharp pain all over his body. It was something he had never felt before. The greatest pain he felt was when he was transformed. He could never forget what it felt like for the next thousand years. But this, this was different. It was coming from somewhere deep. He wanted to rip his stomach open and find the core of the pain. His coffin got filled with his dreadful scream and he heard you shout in agony. He felt the pain in every inch of his body. With one last hard kick, he opened the lid successfully. Only to be greeted by bright, warm sunlight that was glowing beautifully in your shared chambers.

His skin started to burn immediately, and it was then Lestat knew what was happening. His jaw clenched and his tears burned his wounds when he heard your screams from the other side of the house.

“What have you done?!” He shouted but you didn’t respond. The sunlight was nothing compared the pain he was in as you kept burning. He could feel his blood boil in veins as yours dried up under the daylight. You were leaving him.

‘I have loved you, with everything I had in me.’ Lestat didn’t know if you spoke aloud or he just imagined, rather wished you have said it. Maybe it wasn’t too late, Lestat tried to get up but his body was damaged enormously. He could feel the sunlight penetrate into his bones with every second he was spending in front of the open curtains. But he had to save you! He cried and tried to get up again. And again and again. Until he couldn’t hear your screams anymore.

The house fell into a dead silence in seconds. Only thing that could be heard was the silent sizzling of Lestat’s burns. He stoped breathing and he stoped trying to get up. His lifeless eyes fell onto his hands. He laid back in his coffin and pulled the lid back on with a stinging move.

It was a nightmare. An unbelievably bad nightmare. Maybe the worst one he had have been for decades. You were sleeping in your own coffin peacefully. Lestat was going to see you when sun came down and he was going to kiss your lips with a smile on his face. He was going to carry you around the house like a princess and read your favourite poems just for you. You were going to forgive. And maybe in time, you were going to forget. He was going to change and try to be someone better than who he was now. Both of you were going to be happy again, together. He smiled with excitement with the thoughts on his mind. The smell of burned flesh tickled his nose.

—

“You do not know this girl!” Lestat said aggressively as he watched Louis lay the little girl on the bed carefully. Louis’s bright green eyes were full of fear and guilt when he faced Lestat again.

“Make her like us!” He said with a bitter hope in his voice. Lestat pressed his lips together when he heard him utter those words. This cannot be happening, he assured himself hopelessly.

“Non c’est impossible. Elle est trop jeune!” Lestat said in frustration as Louis walked closer to him with hurry. Lestat's heart was pounding fast in his chest. The images of a distant memory was blurring his vision. The same eyes from decades ago were looking at him again. The same eyes that were full of guilt, sorrow and hope with an innocent child at the edge of death in the arms of the person he loved. His chest tightened when Louis kept talking, pleading to save the little girl’s life. What could Lestat do? Was he curse to live same life over and over again for the rest of the eternity?

He could never forget you. He didn’t know how long he mourned you. Days, months, years? Maybe he was still mourning you with the little box in his closet that was filled with your ashes. It took him years to find the courage to try again. And when he kissed Louis for the first time, he felt like finding light in his murky world. But guilt ate him inside out. He wondered if you would be wounded when you learned that he was capable of loving again. He tried to reassure himself that the thing he had with Louis was different than what he had with you. You would always be his wife. Your wedding ring on a necklace that was around his neck was the proof of it.

“Please I can’t have her die!” The pain in Louis’s voice broke his heart. He remembered this feeling so well that it almost hit him on the face. He remembered how it felt like to be helpless when his lover was begging him to change things, set things right and how he couldn’t do it.

“The gift cannot be given to children.” He said when his anger and fear filled him to his limit. The look on Louis’s face twisted something in his stomach.

“What do you mean? Yes it can.” Louis said breathlessly as he tried to find his strength back. All he needed was to save this girl’s precious life. She laid on the bed, unconscious, coughing out the flames silently and she was all he needed in that moment.

“The great laws forbid it!” Lestat spited out as if he had poison on his tongue. Anger appeared on Louis’s face and Lestat regretted what he just said.

“The great laws?” Louis said mockingly. He sounded bitter and every octave of his voice cut both men deeply. “She gonna die in front of us!”

The next thing Lestat knew was that Louis dragged the little girl on the flour, cried, begged, cried, fell on his knees in front of his companion and cried. Louis’s usually gentle hands found Lestat’s body, he held onto him like he was the last thing on the world.

“Please, please.” It was all Lestat could hear. And the little girl’s raggedy breaths that were becoming slower and slower.

“My beautiful little daughter.” Lestat could not swallow, could not hold his tears back or his heartbeats stable when he heard Louis’s voice shatter as he said the words. He hated how his story repeated itself. He hated how he was always the one who had to make this decision.

“Please I’ll be anything.” Louis begged and cried. Lestat wanted to curl into a ball and never wake up again. He looked down at this companion, his lover, the man who saved him, begging him to make him a father.

“Please, please, please…” It was all Louis was saying when Lestat remembered your screams after your little boy died. He remembered how yours eyes looked dead inside and even your smiles were full of grief. He remembered how you begged him and he didn’t listen to you. And then how he lost you. He was a fool to think that you were going to be alright after your son died. He was a fool to think you were going to forgive him and be happy again. And he was a fool to think that you were going to stay with him after what he did to you.

There was a no day passed after your death that he didn’t regret not turning that boy. Great laws forbid it! At what cost he had followed the laws when he was on the other side of the world, oceans away from the last vampire he had seen? He regretted his choice everyday of his last few years and he didn’t know if he would be able to mourn one more person.

He looked down at Louis and saw your crying eyes stare back at him. He looked up instantly.

“You will regret this for the rest of your life.” He said. Yet he didn’t know if he was talking to himself or Louis. Maybe both. He walked to the little girl on the floor and picked her body with ease. Poor thing was covered in burns and couldn’t open her eyes. His blue eyes found Louis’s relieved shoulders and his fangs found the girl’s small neck.

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #lestat x reader #the vampire lestat #lestat x louis #sam reid lestat #reader insert #smut #iwtv spoilers #pre canon #Lestat de lioncourt x reader #louis de pointe du lac #original child character #tw death #iwtv

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allurilove · 2 months

Note

OMG I LOVE YOUR YANDERE HUSBAND DRABBLES <3

can you write a drabbled about the time when reader is giving birth to Henry?

ily and bless you <3

Awww tysm!

Your husband prepped the hospital bag weeks in advance, and when the day finally came, he felt so proud that he was all ready to go. He yanked his car door open gently got you to sit and settle into your seat, and he helped you put on your seatbelt. He then rushed inside, grabbed the bag, threw it into the backseat, and he jumped into the drivers seat.

He plugged your ears with your headphones, and started to play classical music. You’ve been listening to that genre since the start of your pregnancy, all because he heard that it would make the baby smarter.

“Just relax, alright? I’ll take care of everything.”Your husband smiled, gently petting your head as you practiced your breathing exercises.

He started up the car and slammed on the gas. You could only hear the soothing sounds of the violin as your husband swerved in between cars, and when you slowly looked at him, you saw him lashing out at other “dumb” drivers.

When the music stopped, and there’s that brief moment of silence before it changed to the next song, pieces of your husband’s crude words filled your ears. “Go faster, you stupid-“

You clear your throat and glare at him. He glanced back at you, grabbed your phone, and raised up the volume of the music. Your husband gave you another innocent smile, before he started to drive like a maniac again.

You queued: “The Mission: Gabriel’s Oboe” by Ennio Morricone, Yo-Yo Ma, and Roma Sinfonietta.

When you made it to the hospital, you changed into the gown they gave you, and sat on the bed. Your husband slumped against the wall and watched as the doctors took care of the rest. He gave you his hand to squeeze, and he was too tired to register the pain from your tightening grip.

It took you hours to start pushing. Your husband curiously took a look downstairs, his other hand reaching for his phone just to take videos of the situation. After all, this baby was about to be the best thing that has ever happened to the relationship. But oh god, he started to feel woozy. He held onto your hand for support when he started to lose his footing, but he tripped on his own feet, and was knocked down onto the floor.

Your husband never wanted to be the man that fainted as his wife gave birth. He slowly opened his eyes, and when he glanced over…he could see the baby already in your hands. He groaned, mentally cursing at himself for missing the delivery, and he got back onto his feet.

The man was pretty embarrassed as he walked towards you, and he kissed your forehead as a small apology. He cleared his throat before he attempted to talk to you. “So uh, what are we going to name him?” Your husband glanced at the little guy.

“Henry.” You beamed, already confident in your choice.

“…Henry.” He muttered, testing out the name on his tongue. He then patted his pockets before he grabbed his list of names he made. He unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned the names. “I don’t see Henry as one of the names we both agreed on.”

“It just feels right.” You reply.

“You’re feeling a lot of things right now, let’s just lean away from the name Henry.“

You give him a look. “What’s wrong with Henry?” You then lifted up the baby towards him. “Doesn’t he look like a Henry?”

Your husband shook his head, his lips curling downwards. “He looks like a Frederick or Fred. Maybe, a Bennett or Ben. If I’m being honest, he’s looking pretty ambiguous right now.”

“But he’s definitely a Henry.”

“What about Harry-“ Your husband tried to throw that name into the mix but you shut him down. You were pretty set on the name Henry. You two didn’t have to follow the pre-agreed list of names that you guys already argued about for hours, and you were allowed to change your mind.

Your husband reluctantly agreed with you, and your new born was finally given a name. After you were able to recover for a couple of days at the hospital, you were free to go back home. Your husband was looking at the closet filled with baby clothes, already imaging what it would be like to start dressing him up. He had each drawer filled with outfits for every day of the week, and even the holidays! For Christmas, Henry could wear red pajamas with little reindeers and snowflakes on them. There was also a mini elf outfit, and of course yandere husband was going to dress up as Santa.

Your man was super happy as he stood by the crib. He peered down at the bassinet and he had a huge smile on his face. He just knew that he’ll get along with Henry. He could just tell.

#Allurilove asks #yandere husband x henry #yandere husband x you #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x fem reader #yandere husband x wife reader

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dr3amfyr-e · 2 months

Text

modern!jace thoughts ( wc. 600-ish )

i have a jace parasite living in my brain <3 i’m cooking up a part two ( i cooked it up )

jacaerys who studies literature and linguistics at university — on the pre-law track. he’s such a diligent student, a frequenter of libraries and study rooms. ( but he doesn’t really have to try that hard, it comes easy, it’s aggravating )

he lives in the nicest dorm on campus, probably private housing.

jacaerys who wears glasses :3 but only when he must, makes an effort to put contacts in every day. but some days are just glasses days. ( they’re the sliver squoval wire framed ones )

jacaerys who prioritizes hygiene, he’s so clean. (i’m a jon girl at heart, i can acknowledge that he is not squeaky clean. jace is squeaky clean) jace has a skincare routine and a haircare routine. he’s using olaplex and cerave and that super expensive moisturizer. he knows how to defuse and gel cast his curls, he’ll happily do yours too! i firmly believe he uses an electric toothbrush AND HE TAKES CARE OF HIS NAILS

jacaerys who attended a private school until university, and started playing competitive football ( ⚽️ ) at age 10. he plays in college too, but he’s not as serious about it.

lucerys attends the same private school and plays for the same team, so jace practices with him ( it usually ends with a physical altercation, think the sword fight scene ‘what. was. THAT?’ )

jacaerys who likes animals, and LOVES his dog. vermax lives at home while he is off at school, but when jace gets a place of his own the dog will come with. he walks him every morning and evening and takes him for runs most days over the summer. vermax sleeps in jace’s bed, and he takes up a good portion.

jacaerys who is SO oldest daughter coded. he’s driving his siblings around. taking joffrey to pediatrician appointments and picking him up from school. going to all of luke’s football games and rhaena’s violin concerts.

chronic over achiever, he has to be his mothers favorite daughter- what, who said that?

mama’s boy jacaerys who looks up to her more than anyone. he’s bragging her up to anyone who will listen: in his gender and women’s studies class like, “my mom is a ceo! 🙋” “my mom is married to a woman! 🙋”

he would defend his mother’s name with his life. he’s getting into fist fights at social events, ryan atwood style. ( no he’s not, but he really wants to )

jacaerys who can be mean. he doesn’t mean to be, he doesn’t want to be — he hates it. but the world he grew up in was exclusive, and cliquey, and competitive.

he’s good at controlling it, thinking before he speaks. because he’s not a mean person. he’s good, and kind, and gentle. but, it comes to the surface when he goes into defense mode.

he made luke cry once, and started journaling to channel his emotions.

english/history person jacaerys. he’s hopeless at helping his brothers with their math homework.

when his mother married his late grandfather’s former wife he started reading lesbian theory to cope. and he liked it! he borrows baela’s feminist theory books, they bookclub.

jacaerys who, unfortunately, does participate in performative reading. omg nooo don’t come talk to me while i’m reading didion and wearing pearls and mewing 🧏

jacaerys who has a really expensive digital camera and also a really expensive film camera. he likes to post his pictures on his instagram ( no one cares )

all of his social media accounts are private because he doesn’t want to be the internet’s next eligible bachelor.

jacaerys who cries when he’s frustrated.

jacaerys who tolerates his step-brothers, but not very well or with much enjoyment. he has way more in common with alicent than he’d like to admit ( quintessential horrifying step-child experience of being mistaken for your step-parents biological child ) he likes helaena, though! they’re kind of bestie

he separates puzzle pieces by colour for her and looks at all of her art and knows all of her favorite bugs. ( he’s always wanted a sister )

jacaerys who is a fantastic boyfriend ( i’ll get into this later ) (( i got into this ))

#squoval; a rounded square (squoval - square/oval)#if one (1) person asks i’ll drop the thesis i have drafted about the velaryon-targaryen-hightower family #i think this was just a. lot of projecting #umm sorry #𖦹｡⋆ jace #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #?

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fanby-fckry · 6 months

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You know what, I’m just gonna say it. I think that Alastor being aroace is part of the reason he’s so shippable to me.

Before you come at me, check the flag in my pfp; I’m aroace-spec.

Maybe it’s me projecting, maybe it’s because I love exploring relationships through an aroace lens, but goddamn. I ship him more than any other character and every time I do, his aroaceness is a major component in the ship.

Examples below the cut because it’s gonna get long:

📻🍎 || RadioApple:

There are so many versions of this dynamic and I am here for all of them.

We have the pre-canon kinky QPR that I show in UH3. I could talk about that all day, but to summarize:

Aroace x genuinely respectful allo is a dynamic that heals my soul.

Lucifer is less tied down by human constructs like amatonormativity, having never been human himself.

The Devil values consent.

Kinky cannibalism, kinky cannibalism, kinky cannibalism, kinky ca- *I am removed from the stage with a comically large hook*

Then we have the Evil and fucked up QPR dynamic:

And of course, trying to get along for Charlie’s sake and eventually bonding over their shared love of dad jokes and musical theatre, both being violinists (yup, Alastor plays violin too, check the wiki) with niche hobbies/interests (ducks, furby organ) and accidentally winding up in a loving, healthy QPR.

📻🕸️ || RadioDust:

There’s something about an aroace and a sex worker who very rarely falls in love.

Angel would know that Alastor isn’t with him for sex, would know that he values Angel beyond his body.

With greyro Alastor, Angel and Alastor would both be inexperienced with romance, but in wildly different ways. Angel has never had a healthy romantic relationship and therefor tries not to fall in love. Greyro Alastor has probably experienced romantic attraction like less than three times in his 100+ years of existence.

And if Alastor never gains romantic attraction for Angel, that’s a whole other level to the dynamic.

It’s got some great angst potential with Angel wondering if he’s not good enough to love romantically or Alastor feeling guilty or confused as to Why It Hasn’t Happened Yet when he cares for Angel so deeply, and eventually it gets resolved with the two of them accepting that their attractions don’t have to match up for them to love/appreciate/care for each other and they smash the amatonormative relationship hierarchy as queer platonic partners.

Or, Angel’s just totally cool with it from the start because he’s spent decades in the kink scene and has potentially been exposed to more relationship anarchy than Alastor.

Kink and queerness have a great deal of historical and cultural overlap, and that includes aroace queerness. Because Angel’s had way more canon exposure to both, it’s possible he knows more about Alastor’s orientation than Alastor does, and I love the idea of Angel introducing him to terms or just being super chill about not labeling things.

📻♥️ || RadioHusk:

Drawing like 90% from pilot dynamic and headcanon on this. They’re just two old men. They get drunk and cuddle. Alastor is one of the few people who knows Husk can purr and takes advantage of this fact. Alastor considers Husk a friend in a fucked up, possessive way. Husk considers Alastor a pain in the ass, but does care about him on some level.

It’s Fucked Up and Evil QPR: Remix Edition.

And the versions where the author puts them through fanfic couple’s therapy and actually gets them into a healthy point in their relationship? One where Alastor no longer owns Husk’s Soul? *chef’s kiss*

📻🌹 || RadioRose:

For me, personally, this is an exclusively nonsexual, non-romantic ship. They’re besties; they’re QPPs. They’re married for the tax benefits and so that they cannot be forced to testify against each other in court.

Rosie knew Alastor was aroace before he did and rather than sit down and explain it to him, she decided to make ace puns.

📻🖤 || RadioSiren: [edit, context here] RadioFemme

Ok, so this is entirely based on non-canon-compliant Lilith. Or, I guess, non-series-compliant Lilith. More of the old WOG stuff from the pilot era, with a healthy dose of headcanon for flavor.

I love the idea of Lilith and Lucifer having an open marriage; I love the UH3 style polycule dynamic.

Lilith being the original seductress and Alastor being aesthetically but not sexually or romantically attracted to her is very near and dear to my heart.

I’m an aroace with a voice kink who is aesthetically attracted to Lilith and I think Alastor is an aroace with a voice kink who would be aesthetically attracted to Lilith, ok?

📻📺 || RadioStatic:

I’m gonna be real with you, 90% of my interest in RadioStatic is in the one-sided version where Vox is a pathetic little incel simp and Alastor is either oblivious, mildly annoyed, or finds the whole thing hilarious.

Whenever there’s any reciprocation on Alastor’s part, I always imagine it being in a very aroace, very Alastor-esque way. He needs to be get something out of it completely unrelated to sex/romance. And he needs to be manipulative and sadistic in the process.

Whether that something is kink-related, a business transaction, or simply the quality entertainment provided by Vox being a cringefail TV-headed little bitch, I love to see it.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #radioapple #radiodust #radiohusk #radiorose #radiofemme #radiostatic #onewaybroadcast #fanby’s fuckery #osha violation #suggestive

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batrachised · 2 months

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"Well, let us see. What do I like?

I like my own children and all nice, fat, clean babies anywhere. I like all kinds of books if they're well written whether they are religious or philosophical or sentimental or cynical or humorous or exaggerated or indecent. I like writing books myself. I like cats and horses and some dogs. I like curling breakers, woods and mountains and stars and trees and flowers. I like nicely furnished houses. I like good Victrola records and the music of the violin. I like pretty china and glass and old heirloom things. I like a cosy bed and a tight hot water bottle. I like to be kissed by the right kind of a man. I like jewels and pretty clothes. I like doing fancy work and I like cooking and I like eating the nice things other people cook. I like motoring and driving and walking. I like a systematic life with occasional dashings over the traces. I like open fires and moonlit nights. I like nice chatty letters. I like compliments. I like to see a person I dislike snubbed. I like my own looks when my hair is dressed a certain way. I like a snack at bed time. I like going out to dinner. I like helping other people and I like to be very independent of help myself. I like sunsets and pictures and sea bathing. I like keeping a journal. I like reading old letters. I like housecleaning-I do! I like entertaining the race of Joseph. I like day-dreaming. I like going to concerts, good movies and plays. I like-or used to like before I wedded a minister-dancing and playing whist. I like reading the Bible-most of it. (I like the folk-lore of Genesis and the drama of the Exodus and the gorgeous furnishings of the tabernacle and the doings of the kings and the good maledictions of the Psalms and the warm imagery of the Song of Solomon and the cynicism of Ecclesiastes and the worldly wisdom of the Proverbs and the idyll of Ruth and the blazing fire of the prophets and the wonders of Jesus' teaching and the poetry of Revelations.) I like listening to good sermons. I like gardening. I like good spruce gum. I like my husband. I like people to like me. I like a good joke. I like rainy days. I like old homesteads. I like people who agree with me. I like chocolate caramels and Brazil nuts. I like-or liked in pre-prohibition days-Miss Oxtoby's dandelion wine. I like perfumes. I like a little gossip with carefully selected people. I like shopping at Eaton's.

There now, Ruskin, tell me what I am..."

-LM Montgomery, in her journal

#obsessed with this #lm montgomery #“I like a snack at bedtime” me too girl me too #tempted to make this an LM montgomery challenge #write a list of things you like in the same way #i would LOVE seeing the responses lolol

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helpimstuckposting · 2 months

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The Category System in TMA

I want to preface by saying this isn’t my theory but I cannot for the life of me find the original post, if anyone knows what post I’m talking about please PLEASE tell me, it’s driving me insane

The theory I saw (a while ago, maybe around episode 10?) proposed that categories 1, 2, and 3 all represent nouns. Person (1), Place (2), and Thing (3)

I’m genuinely shocked this hasn’t gained more traction because I’ve yet to disprove this and every single episode just keeps working with this theory, so I wanted to list out every episode as further proof

Episode 1

CAT1RBC5257-12052022-09012024 Reanimation (Partial) -/- Regret [Email]

CAT23RAB2155-10042022-09012024 Transformation (eyes) -/- Trespass [chat log]

Cat1 (person) - reanimated corpse, though I think the focus is more about the person they paid to bring their husband back, which implies there some mystery guy out there with this ability

Cat23 (place, thing) - the magnus institute, and the box with runes that red canary stole

Episode 2

CAT3RBC1567-23092022-18012024 Transformation (full) -/- dysmorphic [video call]

Cat3 (thing) - the tattoo from ink5oul is the main focus, though other ink5oul episodes are focused on them and use cat1 (which has confused people, but this theory explains that imo)

Episode 3

CAT2C8175-03042009-22012024 Infection (full body) -/- arboreal [journal entry]

Cat2 (place) - the garden is what started changing the man making the statement (also seemed to exist as its own entity outside the regular flow of time)

Episode 4

CAT3C7494-19111831-29012024 Collection (blood) -/- musical [letter]

Cat3 (thing) - the violin (the power of the violin still remains even if the object itself changes hands, which means the power lies with the violin and not the people controlling it)

Episode 5

CAT2RB2377-10012023-05022024 Disappearance (undetermined) -/- Invitation [internet blog]

Cat2 (place) - the movie theater (or wherever the movie itself is being played, I assume the statement giver did not make it out of that location)

Episode 6

CAT1RB4824-09022024-12022024 Injury (needles) -/- intimidation [999 call]

Cat1 (person) - Needles

Episode 7

CAT2RC3338-03022016-12022024 Agglomeration (miscellany) -/- congregation [email]

Cat2 (place) - Hilltop Center, Oxford (By episode 20, Oxford has been mentioned multiple times, which is why I think the location is significant here)

Episode 8

CAT2RBC3366-12072023-28022024 Architecture (liminal) -/- hunger [coursework]

Cat2 (place) - the liminal space of Forton Service Station

Episode 9

CAT3RB3354-14101998-08032024 Dice (bone) --/-- fate [Magnus Statement]

Cat3 (thing) - the dice (again, the power of the dice remains the same, even when the dice themselves change hands)

Episode 10

CAT1RB2275-06082021-09032024 Mascot (kids) -/- murder [TV interview]

Cat1 (person) - Mr Bonzo, Nigel Dickerson

Episode 11

CAT23RC5246-06012020-11032024 Tattoo (corpse) -/- compulsion [email exchange]

Cat23 (place, thing) - Padstow civil cemetery, tattoo (the reason I believe this isn't a Cat1 despite it being ink5oul is because we know from episode 20 that the tattoos themselves had special powers, regardless of ink5oul and that ink5oul only started getting their powers after they continuously used the pre-existing designs - this is new information that imo further confirms this theory rather than debunking it)

Episode 12

CAT1RB4728-09032024-13032024 Mascot (kids) -/- frenzy [insurance claim]

Cat1 (person) - Mr Bonzo

Episode 13

CAT3RB4622-17092023-14032024 Gambling (application) -/- self-destruction [voicemail]

Cat3 (thing) - the Zorrotrade investment app

Episode 14

CAT1RB4426-01081995-15032024 Transformation (snake) -/- horde

Cat1 (person) - shop keeper that burst into snakes (the investigator describes no other infestation, and only mentions one hole and one possible squirrel, while the shopkeeper causes all other chaos. We also know that the shopkeeper was being considered by the Magnus Institute before being rejected, like Sam, making this shopkeeper a relatively important person)

Episode 15

CAT1RB6451-22062023-22032024 Hunt (aristocratic) -/- compulsion

Cat1 (person) - Lady Mowbray

Episode 16

CAT1RB1565-30102023-25032024 Tattoo (influencer) -/- cardiac

Cat1 (person) - ink5oul (this one was specifically about ink5oul, rather than the main focus being the tattoo itself)

Episode 17

CAT2RC1147-30111997-04042024 Doppelganger (interdimensional) -/- murder

Cat2 (place) - this one people keep focusing on categorizing the doppelganger, but I think the key focus of the episode is actually the Magnus Institute – Oxford Outreach Centre (another instance of Oxford, another connection to Ep7)

Episode 18

CAT1RC2374-20032024-10042024 Memory (derelict) -/- compulsion

Cat1 (person) - Violet Parker, talking corpse; [ERROR]

Episode 19

CAT13RBC1137-21031684-11042024 Transformation (canine) -/- growth (Crystalline)

Cat13 (person, thing) - Isaac Newton, Diana’s Tree

Episode 20

CAT1RAB2534-12042024-12042024 Transformation (tattoo) -/- Social Media (influencer)

Cat1 (person) - ink5oul (very clearly, this episode is about ink5oul and not about any of their tattoos, though they were in the middle of tattooing a corpse. I think the tattoo is irrelevant to this incident, which is why it's only a 1 and not a 13)

Episode 21

CAT2RBC4254-04011998-12042024 Architecture (landmark) -/- corruption (entropy)

Cat2 (place) - Millennium Dome (also happens to be The Magnus Institute, but I think the main focus is obviously the dome)

I think the *only* one that could be argued as not really fitting is MAGP5 - since you could argue the movie is a thing, and it’s not really the theater as the place, but compared to the odds of other theories that have way more holes this one is so spot on imo

This is the theory I’ve been comparing the categories to every single episode and I haven’t found anything to significantly disprove it, so I just wanted to highlight it one more time in case others haven’t seen it!

#tmagp #the magnus protocol #tmagp spoilers #tmagp theory #tmagp speculation

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bonzos-number-1-fan · 7 months

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What R# Means: The ABC's of Fear.

The grading system used by the OIAR is one of TMAGP's more central mysteries. The show is rife with administrative work that's obfuscated even to the employees that assign each case's rating.

I have my own theory about DPHW that I think is proving more and more likely each episode, but as of yet I don't think a comprehensive theory on CAT# or R# has been given. CAT# is still proving a hard to crack but I now think I can take a strong stab at the meaning behind R#.

Spoilers for TMAGP 1-7 below the cut.

For the people who aren't keeping close track of this I'll break down how those terms are used. Each incident the OIAR assesses is assigned a case number in the following format CAT#R#DPHW. CAT, short for Category, is assigned a value of 1, 2, 3, or any combination of those three digits (12, 13, etc.). R, short for Rank, are graded C, BC, B, AB, A, or S (potentially AS but it's not come up). For DPHW each letter is a category itself and replaced with a digit from 0-9 for its grading. So there are 6 separate statistics that the OIAR uses to assess each incident.

If I'm correct about DPHW it's a ranking based on the qualities the incident presents. That's obviously very valuable information. Because of how CAT# is formatted we know it's likely three non-mutually exclusive facets. I had some idea about what it could be but it's proving quite tricky to nail down.

However it's R# that is the topic of today's post and it's something I've had a few ideas on before. We know can assume from its formatting it's a linear scale. C is the "worst/weakest/etc." while S is the "best/strongest/etc.". Initially, I thought that R# was simply a straight forward ranking of potency or threat. Higher the rank, spookier the incident. Very early on that seemed like a strong idea. It was quickly disproven but I then had the idea that Rank was instead the scale of the effect. Higher the rank, wider the incident. Also quickly disproven.

Now I'm thinking it's graded on how hard it is to deny an incident's supernatural nature. Simply put, an outside observer can more readily find a believable rational explanation for an incident of lower rank than of higher rank. Either via their own conviction to believe the supernatural isn't real, or based on the story the OIAR cooks up to explain it.

For that to make sense it needs to tick two boxes. It needs to be able to be pre-assigned to an incident as all CAT#R#DPHW's seem to be, and it needs to be useful information to track. As they're operating under the assumption that CAT#R#DPHW's can be pre-assigned then they're operating under the assumption that each type of incident is relatively stable. Meaning that the likelihood that it can be rationally explained is also relatively stable. Tick 1. There is also a really strong reason for the OIAR to use this as a grade. They're the Office of Incident Assessment and Response, the Response Department might be dead but it was a part of the initial plan. Grading each incident on how likely they are to cause concern should the details go public is very useful for deciding how to approach any given case. Tick 2.

It being useful is all well and good but it does also need to have some evidence so let's look at our highest ranked incident to this point: CAT23RAB2155 - Transformation (Eye) -/- Trespass. A man grew eyes over his body. That's pretty tricky to explain away as a medical mystery. On the other end of the scale we've got CAT2RC1157 - Dolls (Watching), or CAT2RC3338 -Agglomeration (Miscellany) -/- Congregation†. Just a creepy doll and some crappy antiques. I think of all the incidents the one that's the least immediate fit is CAT3C7494 - Collection (Blood) -/- Musical. Most of that incident is very easy to slot in here. "It's just a violin that has sharp strings, so what?". But it's also a violin that made some people eat some other people. However, mass hysteria events do get reported every so often IRL and do have a very long history. So in the grand scheme of things I don't think the details of the event are necessarily all that outlandish. It's really in the realms of urban legend and witch hunts than it is definitive proof of the supernatural.

With all that out the way this is the broad strokes of how I could see this breaking down. C ranks are things you can entirely write off as urban legends, freak accidents, and stress. Potentially things that might not need any covering up at all. I think the majority of events people could entirely say didn't happen will end up in C. "Of course the doll wasn't watching you, dolls aren't alive". B ranks are things that are harder to entirely discount as things that happened but are themselves still relatively easy to excuse as mundane. "Sure, the circumstances of that blogger's disappearance are strange but people go missing all the time, doesn't mean a monster did it". We don't have any A ranks but given the AB rank we do have I'd say A's are things in which no rational explanation can account for it, and as such require more extensive covering up, if it indeed happened. "Okay, maybe the supernatural is real because people don't just grow eyes like that".

As I mentioned early, an S rank does exist. We've not seen this attributed to anything in the show yet and so it might prove to be a special case. However on Klaus' sheet‡ from the ARG it's attributed to an interesting incident. A CAT1RS[No DPHW] with the note Mr. B. And, well, if you know, you know.

From Klaus' sheet we also know that the higher ranked incidents happen less often than lower ones and that idea generally tracks with what we know of TMP and TMA. The supernatural tends to be something you can explain away. It often is explained away. Incredibly overt manifestations are a rarity.

This one will be a slow burn to see if it bears out. Much like with DPHW's it's only really interesting when things go against the theory. I'm not as certain on this one as I am the DPHW theory but I do think it's got legs with our current data.

† This did also feature people who seemed to erase their physical features from your memory after you interacted with them. This isn't something I mention in the theory because it's not taken into account by the header and case number. A major flaw in the OIAR's methodology here is that all incidents are only ever one thing. So the case number is based solely on the presence of lots of miscellaneous objects, rather than the mind-wiping people carrying them.

‡I have made an incident master doc here, containing all the current cases, their CAT#'s, R#'s, DPHW's, etc. It has about as much information on each as I think is reasonable, including who narrates it, a link to its episode, and any other relevant notes, as well as headers for incidents we didn't hear. Additionally it also contains the Klaus sheet (German and English) and links to it when an incident matches. It will be updated each episode after the episode is publicly available.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp speculation #tmagp theory #klaus = kl4-u5

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inkymoonbunny · 6 months

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Astarion x Tav Fic Recs

These are just some of my favorites! <3 Mix of during game and AUs

Epistles of Saints & Sinners @elegantduelliste - Soulmate Marks AU during game. Astarion recognizes Tav’s soulmate mark, it matches his own, but he's not going to tell her that; he can't have a soulmate, it's just one more thing Cazador has stolen from him. Tav is just as drawn to Astarion, but her own history has left her guarded and wary of being vulnerable. Elle’s writing of the push and pull of their relationship is breathtaking and heart-wrenching. Matching a bard Tav, Elle's prose takes on a lyrical quality and her use of imagery is unparalleled.

The House of Astarion by Throckmorton420 - Labyrinth AU post-Elderbrain. Ascended Astarion lost interest in conquering Faerun once he came across the Labyrinth, it's much more his style anyway. Stealing Tav’s violin, he offers her a deal: solve his Labyrinth and he'll return her violin and grant her a wish. Realizing this is her opportunity to reconnect to the Weave, Tav agrees. Did I mention goostarion? Because there's goostarion! This fic is filled with mischief, whimsy, and so much heart.

Fools' Work @semper-draca - Pre-Tadpole AU. Cazador has sent his spawn after a mysterious box and luckily for Astarion, his latest target happens to have a lead. It should be easy to seduce her and steal the prize! Too bad she’s not as naive as Astarion believes. This mercenary Tav is perceptive and delightfully unhinged that makes her a great matchup for a scheming Astarion.

When the Dawn Breaks… @harcourtholmesii - set during game. Before Astarion was turned, he ignored his family’s disapproval of a Drow lover. Two hundred years later, Lavender has found the lover she grieved and believed dead. Astarion brushes away her questions but still sweeps her off her feet. He can’t believe his luck in finding a target that presumably knows him, one easy to lure back when he so desperately needs to keep in good graces with his master.

Until You @bloodinwine - Post-Elderbrain with modern world AU flavor. Effy thought Astarion needed a friend more than a lover, so now here they are as roommates and definitely not hopelessly in love pining after one another. Effy struggles to fight her way free of self-destructive tendencies and be the person Astarion needs her to be. This Tav is a loveable hot mess! I have never wanted to take a character by the shoulders and shake them so badly, thank you June for spinning Effy into the world.

Lacunae @karinamay - Series set during game. Tav was once Astarion’s target, but she slipped away. Upon meeting after the Nautiloid crash, she remembers but Astarion does not. This is the one that inspired me to start writing again. It’s sweet and heartbreaking and deliciously spicy!

Pour One Out @aevallare - Modern AU/1000 years post-Elderbrain. A spinoff from the much loved and fandom favorite Kindred featuring an anxious Auri that doesn't remember her past life and a tailor Astarion that's in awe of finding his love again. This is an Astarion that's had centuries to heal from his ordeal with Cazador, one that's been able to flourish in freedom. Astarion gets his chance to be a hero for Auri this time around. Aevallare's characterization of Astarion is absolutely unmatched.

All these fics are ongoing so you must be patient, but DO give them a read and the authors some love/kudos/comments!

#fic recs #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #fanfic #bg3 #astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #fanfic rec #epistles of saints and sinners #The House of Astarion #Fools' Work #When the Dawn Breaks...#Until You #Lacunae #pour one out

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 months

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No following; Planet of the Apes fanfic Chap. 1

*Author's note*

Okay so we're gonna try something new here tumblr. Ever since I saw the new Planet of the apes film a month ago I got interested in the fandom once again but never thought anyone wrote fics for the fandom. After reading some on FF.net as well as here, it got me wanting to write a series while I'm on a writer's block for my current series. And thus this series was born.

This entire series will encompass the Andy Serkis trilogy and will be a Caesar fic. But it is STRICTLY PLATONIC so if that's not your cup of tea, no hate and just move on. This is my story and I'll write it the way I want to.

Now to those who wish to give this series a chance as you read, leave a comment down below if you wish to be tagged for updates (rn I'll be binge posting cause I've already got 10 chapters ready to go and be read).

WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, swearing, violence. So this won't be for the light of heart (at least until I get to Dawn and then War).

Taglist:

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@gay-and-ready-to-cry

@waddles03

______________________________________________________

Some say that the bonds between human and animal are a unique thing. That there’s an unbreakable trust between the two and that they are fated to always be together. Others say that like soulmates, there’s always an animal for a person who needs them the most. For me, I would end up having the most unique of all bonds with an animal that is closest to my own species of animal.

This is the story of such a bond, this is the story of Lin and Caesar.

It was nightfall and pouring down rain as I rode home with my best friend Gabriella and her mother. Gabi and I had known each other since Pre-K after we both had a love for the Disney movie Lilo and Stitch. From that moment on we’ve been inseparable. Currently I was getting a ride home with her mom after our strings class.

She and I after school go over to the rec center every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday nights and perform with the San Fransisco Strings and Orchestra for minors. Gabi plays the cello and I play the violin. We’re both pretty good if I do say so myself, our teacher tells us that we could eventually go far into the world of music if we set our mind to it. But I think I’m good cause of my genetics, after all my grandpa was a former music professor and conductor. But he doesn’t really play anymore, or at least he tries to.

We soon stopped at my house and I said grabbing my things and readied my umbrella.

“Thanks for the ride Mrs. Montez.”

“Anytime Lin sweetie. Watch out crossing the dark, wet sidewalk.”

“I will, see you tomorrow in class Gabi.”

“See yah Lin.” I quickly opened the door and opened up my umbrella before quickly racing across the sidewalk and up the stairs to my front door. I took my key and unlocked the door but not before waving one final time and soon Mrs. Montez drove off down the road.

I entered inside and shook off my umbrella before hanging it to dry. I also took off my raincoat and hung it up beside it before walking further into the house proclaiming.

“Hello? Grandpa? Uncle Will?” that’s when I heard the sound of cooing, like a baby cooing but it wasn’t human. I set my violin case down to the banister by the front door and walked into the study room where I found a large box with holes sitting on the table. As I got closer to it, I heard my uncle say.

“Oh perfect timing, guess that means I can show you both.” I turned and saw both my uncle and grandpa coming around from the kitchen entry.

“Show me what?” uncle Will walked passed me, ruffled my hair and stood over the box.

“Hey grandpa.”

“Hey sweetheart. Get another gold star from Ms. Honey for good behavior?” I smiled solemnly. Ms. Honey was my kindergarten teacher, my current teacher is Mr. Simmons.

My grandpa for the past couple of years has been dealing with Alzheimer’s disease. Uncle Will told me that it’s a disease that slowly eats away at the brain’s cells, affecting memory and sometimes body function. You see, my parents died in a plane crash when I was just 3 years old and in their will they had the next guardianship be my grandpa. But two years ago, that’s when the disease started to take its effect on him.

So my uncle Will had to move in with us to help not only take care of me but of grandpa too. And when he’s at work and I’m at school, a nice nurse comes in and helps take care of grandpa.

“Grandpa, I’m in the 4th grade. My teacher is Mr. Simmons. You know the nice man you and uncle Will met last month at the school picnic.” He looked dazed for a second but then said.

“Oh right, yeah I knew that.”

“Dad, Lin, come check this out.” Uncle Will said trying to redirect the conversation. We came over and the second we looked inside, there lay a baby monkey.

“Is that a monkey?” I asked with a head tilt.

“He’s actually a chimpanzee, an ape.” Uncle Will corrected me. Grandpa was in pure awe as he slowly reached in and touched the baby chimp.

“What is that? Is he injured?” he asked as I took notice of a mark right around the right side of his chest. It was a prominent balding mark in a unique shape, a long oval shape with an additional stripe at the top. Kinda reminded me of an incomplete cross or an unfinished F.

“No, I think that’s a birthmark.” Uncle Will said as he crossed into the kitchen and started putting some things into the fridge. All the while grandpa picked up the baby chimp and lifted him high into the air like he was Simba. The little guy was just small enough to fit between both of grandpa’s hands.

“Listen Lin,” he told me before he began quoting, “‘But as for Caesar, kneel down, kneel down and wonder.’”

“He’s so cute.” I awed as I reached out and touched his little toes.

“Yeah don’t get too attached, either of you.” Uncle Will told us.

“So why bring him here then if we can’t keep him?” I sassed.

“He’s not a dog or a cat, not even a bunny rabbit. He’s a wild animal. My coworker promised he’d try to find an animal sanctuary for him in a couple of days.” I let out a exasperated groan.

“Animal sanctuaries are still prisons.”

“Don’t get smart young lady.” My uncle playfully reprimanded as he pointed at me.

“It’s not polite to point.” I sassed back.

“Polite? Okay, I’ll show you polite.” My uncle said as he shut the fridge and giving me that narrowed but playful look in his eyes. I took off running as he raced after me. I got only up four stairs before I felt two arms wrap around me and he swung me away from the staircase and the next thing I felt was a wet finger in my ear.

“GAHH EWW UNCLE WILL!!!”

“Yeah your mom did this to me all the time when we were kids, now it’s payback.” He laughed.

“I’m innocent in this vile act!” I proclaimed dramatically.

“But you must pay for the sins of thy mother young youth!”

“Will, Maria, you two better stop horsing around in there.” At hearing my mom’s name we both settled down and a somber feeling was in the air.

“He’s been calling me that on and off for the past week.”

“Honestly who can blame him. You look so much like her when she was your age.” He said with a soft smile and he ruffled my hair again.

“Really?”

“Yeah. And when have I ever lied about anything in regards to my big sister?”

“Never.”

“Exactly.” He then playfully nudged my side with his before changing the subject. “Now please tell me you managed to eat dinner cause I’ve had a long day of work and I don’t feel like cooking anything.”

“Lucky for you, the rec center was hosting a pizza party after the past few months prepping for Districts last week. Maestro Fiyero said we earned a little break after working us so hard.”

“Good. Now why don’t you brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”

“Why does my curfew have to be 9 o’clock? I’m 10 years old, not five.”

“Growing girls needs sleep too you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Tell grandpa I said goodnight will yah?”

“Will do kid. Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

“You too.” I grabbed my violin and raced on upstairs and did my nighttime routine before getting into bed and turning off the light.

As the night progressed, I soon heard the sounds of shrieks coming from the hallway. I opened my eyes and looked at my clock to see that it was 2:30am. I got up and let out a cough and muttered to myself.

“Need some juice.” Quietly I walked down the hallway towards the stairs but as I came to the bathroom I could hear the shower running as well as the bathroom sink. Did grandpa accidentally leave the water running again after taking his shower? No, Uncle Will would’ve turned it off by now.

I knocked softly on the door and I heard my uncle’s voice say.

“It’s just me dad.”

“I’m not grandpa.” I heard footsteps and the door cracked open and when he saw me, he brought me into the bathroom before closing it. Immediately I was hit with the heat that had been trapped by the hot water that was coming from both the shower and the sink.

“What are you doing up so late Lin?”

“I heard shrieking and then I got thirsty.”

“Ohh sorry, guess this little guy woke you up too huh?” it was then I took notice of the baby chimp swaddled up in my uncle’s arms. I looked down at him and he looked up at me, moving his grip from my uncle’s finger to mine as he cooed.

“He looks like he has a cold.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, his nose is kinda runny.”

“Well that’s normal for babies sometimes. He’s barely a day old. You definitely had a runny nose when you were born.”

“No I didn’t!”

“Oh yeah you were quite the little snot monster. The original boogeyman, or boogeygirl.” He said taking his free hand that was on top of the baby chimp and playfully gripped my nose.

“Uncle Will!” I whined softly which made him laugh. Our moment was stopped as the baby chimp let out a few more coos before snuggling up to uncle Will, all the while the grip on my finger got a bit tighter. I smiled down at him and said as I stroked my thumb over his tiny fingers. “Are you sure we can’t keep him?”

“I’ll—think about it. Holding him like this….makes me think back to the day you were born. Boy your mom wouldn’t let me near you at first. Feared I was gonna drop you, she always had that fierce mama bear instinct right from the get-go. Even when we were growing up and as she tormented me at times. When I needed it, she was there with her hot-headed attitude.”

“I miss her uncle Will.”

“Me too kid. Me too.” I leaned up against him and he rested his head on top of mine giving it a soft kiss. “Go on back to bed, I’ll stay up with him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m used to all-nighters, one day you might get there when you’re composing your first symphony. But for now, head back to bed.”

“Can I still get my juice first? I’m thirsty.”

“Just this once. Just be quiet when passing Charles’ room.” I nodded before leaning down and gave the baby chimp a kiss to which he let out a cute yawn and quiet hoot.

“Goodnight little chimp. Night uncle Will.” I gave him a peck on the cheek and he said goodnight to me as I quietly left the bathroom shutting the door immediately as I got out. I went downstairs, got my drink and went back to bed.

The next morning I was finishing my breakfast and packing my school books into my backpack as uncle Will was coming down with the baby chimp and set him up in my old high-stool chair that grandpa had kept.

“Where’s my car keys?” grandpa asked as he was patting through his robe and pj pockets. “My car keys where’d you put them? I need to get Lin to school!” he said urgently.

“Dad.” Uncle Will calmly spoke to him. “You-you don’t drive anymore. And Lin takes the bus.” Grandpa looked at him with a blank stare before turning away and telling him.

“I know that.” It really does make me sad to see grandpa this way. He always looks so dazed and lost, like he’s here with us but at the same time he’s not. Sometimes he’ll just sit there and stare off into space, frozen in his spot and not say anything for a really long time.

“Here, why don’t you feed him? Can you do that?” uncle Will suggested holding up a baby bottle filled with milk.

“Of course I can.” Said grandpa coming over. As uncle Will went to get his coffee (blech!) grandpa came over and grabbed the bottle which made the baby chimp go crazy with hunger as he reached out for it. As soon as it was in reach, he grabbed the bottle from grandpa’s hand and immediately began drinking it as fast as he could.

I dropped my fork and stared at him in awe. I was told that babies always needed help being fed for at least several months and yet after just being born yesterday, he was feeding himself.

“Will, look at this.” Grandpa said as uncle Will came back into the kitchen and saw what we saw. “How old is he? Like a day old, two days old?” Uncle Will sat down as he examined the baby chimp confused.

“Yeah.” Uncle Will said lowly as he kept his eyes on the baby chimp.

“Oh he’s a smart one isn’t he?” said grandpa as he came around and sat on the other side of the baby and gently placed his hand on top of his head. “What are you gonna name him?”

“I—I don’t know.” Uncle Will said unsure. That’s when I saw it. Now I’m no monkey or ape expert but from pictures I’ve seen in books they normally have dark eyes, mostly brown but this little guy. His eyes were green.

A green eyed baby chimpanzee. One look into his eyes and I knew that he was something very special.

#planet of the apes #planet of the apes oc #planet of the apes imagine #planet of the apes imagines #caesar imagine #caesar imagines #caesar x reader #caesar x oc #planet of the apes x reader #planet of the apes fanfic #planet of the apes fanfiction #caesar fanfic #caesar fanfiction

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leohttbriar · 1 year

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what actually is so jarring about the kira-"pregnancy" plot is that it is very much a narrative version of the violin-player argument in judith jarvis thompson's philosophical defense of abortion. it's an argument that is about how abortion is one thread of legality and personal freedom in the full framework of securing bodily autonomy, so a lot of the argument is not explicitly even about abortion. it posits: "what if one day you wake up and you're connected, with medical tubes and so on, to a violin player (a full adult, with a career and a fully realized person) and the only way this violin player can survive is if you remain connected to them for a month?" then it asks: what if you chose to be connected to this violin player but now you don't want to or you have mixed feelings about it? what if you knew it was a risk from another choice you made? what if halfway through the month you don't want to stay connected? what if it was only an hour? what if was nine months? ultimately, the ethical claim remains: your body is your own. you own your body.

and this is not only important, but it is also interesting. it's the kind of plot star trek writers could write since interrogating the competing values regarding bodily autonomy is a common theme within science-fiction (often treated as a source of the Horrific, but sometimes it's different (see the entirety of octavia butler's oeuvre)). and it would've been especially relevant given that one of the main characters in ds9 is from a society where it is a high honor to take onto the body an entirely other being, and the placement of this other being permanently affects the body such that their removal results in swift death. the enormously complex claims all being made on kira for taking on keiko's pregnancy (from miles and keiko to her own body and person, the threat of death, the threat of connection to the fetus, the treatment she would now receive from others, the treatment she would've received had she refused to take the pregnancy, etc.) should've been talked about, narratively or in dialogue in depth, instead of the vague gestures to the unspoken complexity of the plot and the inside-jokes within production--all of which sort of added up to a weird underlying claim about the exchangability of uteruses across alien-species, as if some mythic universal-womb exists in all "female" persons, and only this magic womb can gestate a fetus despite the whacky technobabble impossible hijinks otherwise present in the star trek narrative reality.

and only jadzia says a single thing about kira having a right to her own body. and it's in a tone-deaf light-hearted scene, where once again the male writers get to indulge in some expression of misogyny by revealing an aspect of ferengi culture that isn't actually that alien to the human world they were writing in (or the plot with kira they were writing), even in that pre-dobbs, mid-90s, ear-plugging left-of-center culture.

#ds9 #oof that post yesterday got me fired up bc to even think about it as a real plot! with feelings and implications! made me feel the loss!#star trek

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0blobthefish0 · 1 year

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can you please do an addison montgomery x reader where they were together in college for pre-med but broke up during med school and once they realized they work together in sgh, they try another chance at being together (after addek divorce) and then they get married

addison montgomery masterlist | main masterlist

Thank you so much for requesting, anonymous friend!! Sorry it has taken me so long, I've been busy with exams 😅

Addison Montgomery x Female Reader 2,602 words

The violin and piano of the orchestra began the music and you heard the rustle of friends and family turning in their seat. You were getting married. With one final big breath, you opened your eyes to see your father smiling at you with tears in his eyes as he held out his arm for you to take. You wrapped your arm around his before the two of you began to walk toward the hall, all heads turned to you and you couldn't help the smile that sprung onto your lips when you saw everyone. All of your friends and family and all of her friends and family, together in one place. You were going to marry Addison Montgomery.

Addison Montgomery, you could still remember the first time you had met as if it were yesterday; you were both at Yale for pre-med and she had sat next to you in biology:

"Hi, can I sit here?" You quickly turned up to the voice and at seeing someone so close you realised that they were talking about the seat next to you.

"Yeah," you replied sheepishly, your voice rising a few octaves as you fumbled to remove your bag and books from the desk. You diverted your eyes away from the person as they settled down and focused on the colourful edges of your notebook.

"I'm Addison." You looked to the person next to you and nearly choked on your own breath. She was gorgeous, red hair framed a perfect face, blue eyes stared expectedly at you -so blue you felt that you were swimming- and her lips stretched in a warm smile. Your heart was beating out of your chest. She held out her hand and you took it, hoping that your hand wouldn't feel too warm.

"Y/n," you introduced yourself with a smile back before returning to staring at your books.

"So, where are you from, Y/n?" Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at her in shock, you hadn't expected her to talk to you, let alone actually get to know you. And that was the beginning of your friendship. The two of you had gotten closer and closer through your time at Yale, before a kiss had changed it all.

You had gone over to her place to study for your upcoming exam and you were lying on her floor, your notes and books stacked in messy piles. It was late and you were getting tired from sitting on the floor so you had moved next to her on her bed. You were on you back, your legs dangling over the edge with your hands covering your eyes and Addison was staring at you with a smile on her face. She had fallen for you, something she had never expected to happen, but it did and it scared her ever so slightly. If you were a guy, she'd know what to do, she would know what to say, know how to act. However, you weren't a guy; you were Y/n and she really, really did not want to mess up what you two had.

"You are sleeping round tonight, right?" Addison questioned you as she stared out of the window, the moon staring in from its place in the dark sky. You hummed back and Addison turned her head back to you. You were already half asleep and she caught her lip between her teeth to suppress a laugh before sliding off her bed and walking to stand in front of you. "Come on," she began and grabbed your hands with hers, "let's get ready for bed," and she pulled you to sit upright, no aid coming from your side.

You mumbled incoherently under your breath as you hung your head, Addison chuckled as you and pushed your head up lightly by cupping your cheeks. Your eyes met hers and you were stuck in a trance. Your faces were so close and you could feel her soft breath floating over your skin. Her smile had fallen and her pupils were dilated due to the darkening room. You watched intently as they flicked from your eyes down to your lips and you felt yourself gasp lightly, your heart pounding and threatening to fall out of your chest.

"Addie," you whispered, you didn't know why you said it, but you were glad that you did because she leaned forward and pressed her lips against yours. It was short, it was soft, it was perfect. The two of you pulled away slightly and you watched as she opened her eyes and a smile overcome her features. You were in love.

▪▪▪

Those years you had spent with her had been some of the best in your life, but all good things come to an end eventually. Your paths had finally split; your time at Yale had ended and the two of you had begun your journeys at med school. Though this time you were at different schools and the long distance thing never worked, so the two of you inevitably broke up and continued down your paths. Never thinking that they would cross again.

When the position of Head of Cardio arose at Seattle Grace Hospital, you were quick to take up the offer. It had been one of your dreams to work there and it was most likely the quickest transfer you had ever done, accepting the offer and working there the next day. You were ecstatic.

You had just finished talking with Doctor Webber in his office when you heard a knock at the door, you turned your head and watched as it swung open.

"Ah, Bailey, this is Doctor Y/n Y/l/n, our new Head of Cardio," Webber turned to you and gestured to the woman at the door, "this is Doctor Bailey, she'll be showing you around today, so you know where you're going."

You gave them a smile, "Thanks, that's very nice of you," and Webber shooed off. You shook the woman's hand and followed her out of the room.

"Are we doing the tour now? Cause if you're busy I really don't mind waiting somewhere," you offered as you jogged to catch up to her, who was surprisingly fast. She stopped abruptly and you nearly crashed into her.

Bailey nodded her head in thought, "yes, yes, there's this new, ground-breaking surgery that I really want to watch, thank you!" She grinned and she walked off. You watched her before looking around at the twisting, turning maze of corridors and you were filled with a sense of dread.

"Well don't just stand there looking dumb, come and watch surgery!" Bailey shouted after you and you quickly chased after her. And that was how you had gotten into Bailey's good books.

You had been introduced to quite a few of the surgeons working in the hospital as you all watched the world-esteemed Doctor Shepherd work his magic, it was truly phenomenal. After many hours, Bailey took you on the tour around the hospital and then you stopped at your last destination - the OR board. You stood beside her as she worked on it when someone walked over to her.

You felt Bailey twist you around, "This is our new Head of Cardio, Y/n Y/l/n, and this is-" and you were met with a face you had never thought you would see again.

"Addison," you interrupted in shock and Bailey drew back away from the reunion. You watched as a smile made its way onto her lips, the years had been good to her.

"Y/n, it's so good to see you, god, I haven't seen you in forever," the surprise evident in her voice as she pulled you into a hug. You were enveloped in a familiar, comforting smell as you hugged her back - old memories returning to you at the re-introduction of the scent. As you stepped back you tucked a piece of fallen hair behind your ear, Addison's eyes followed the familiar movement and she couldn't her widening smile and the fluttering in her chest. You were just as she remembered, a little older, but the same nonetheless .

"We did pre-med together," Addison noted, addressing Bailey and she smiled at your reunion.

"Well, we've just finished our tour, so you're welcome to steal her," Bailey pushed.

"Have you met Yang?" Addison questioned and you shook your head.

"Who's Yang?" You asked as you followed her.

"Yang is one of Bailey's interns, made for cardio, she is going to pick your brains," Addison turned her head to look at you, and you felt yourself stare into her blue eyes, as she smirked at you, "so be prepared, she's been begging for a new Head of Cardio." You felt your stomach do flips, an enthusiastic student, you were going to love working at Seattle Grace.

▪▪▪

And you did. However, in time, you had found that old feelings had reemerged and you did your best to keep them to yourself, but unconsciously wandering eyes had seemingly become your downfall.

You were in conversation with Callie, you, her and Addison had all become close through the months you had been at Seattle Grace, when a certain red-head caught your eye from across the hospital. As Callie ran through her steps during the procedure, you were nodding your head in false acknowledgement and didn't notice when her voice trailed off into silence. You were biting on the end of your pen and Callie sighed lightly as she crossed her arms over her chest - and rolled her eyes - before following your gaze. Callie raised a brow and a smirk overcame her annoyed expression.

"Just ask her out." Callie said boldly and loudly. Your eyes widened as you pushed her away with struggling hands, ortho was no joke.

"SHhhhh, don't have to tell everyone," you shushed her harshly and Callie shrugged in reply.

"I'm just saying that you need to focus or you're gonna kill my patient," she warned before leaving you to check on her patient. You let out a big sigh, you were really, really distracted

You stared wide-eyed at the blood on your hands, the heart monitor monotone, your chest heaving. You ran the whole procedure through your head - over and over again.

"Y/n, Y/n!" You blinked out of your trance and looked up at the voice, Callie was staring at you with her eyebrows twisted in concern, everyone was staring at you and you felt your stomach churn illy.

"Uhm," your gaze moved to clock and you stated shakily, "time of death sixteen-twenty one. Can- Can someone else close?" You saw Callie nod her head and you gave her a small smile before ripping your apron and gloves off as you walked away. The tears already prickling at your eyes.

You had spent the next few hours alone in an on-call room, tired but unable to sleep, until you were paged. You quickly fixed yourself before leaving the safety of your hideout and out into the rush of the ER. It had only been a minute since you were paged and it had already seemed like you were late. The beds were full and more were still being wheeled in and you stared in shock. Callie had caught your hesitancy and ran over, she put a hand on your shoulder.

"Pile up on the highway, bed three needs a consult," you nodded your head as she told you what to do and just as you were about to leave she stopped you, "it wasn't your fault, there was nothing you could do." You nodded your head again and you felt her pat your shoulder lightly before going back to receive the next patient. You let out a deep sigh before quickly moving to bed three, the start of hours and hours on your feet.

You closed up your last surgery for the day and stretched the aching muscles in your back and shoulders before leaving the O.R. Just as you were blinking the sleep from your eyes you rounded a corner and nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw someone on top of the bed. Addison looked at you with a frown.

"I don't look that bad, do I?" She joked and you rolled your eyes with a smile before joining her on the bed.

"What're you doing here?" You mumbled as you closed your eyes, shielding them from the bright hospital lights.

"Too tired to make it to an on-call room," she replied and you hummed in agreement. Addison stared at you - your face, your nose, your closed eyes, your lips - and felt her heart patter like rain against a window. She breathed in deeply and wrapped an arm around your waist before pulling you in and resting her head against your own. You let out another hum, too tired to say anything.

The two of you stayed silent for a while and you were hit with a sense of déjà vu; Addison had pulled you in just the same way as when you were in pre-med and studying late at night in the library. You let out a little laugh.

"What?" Addison murmured.

"Nothing, this just reminds me of that time in the library." You heard her chuckle as she remembered and the smile grew on your face.

"The night I asked you to be my girlfriend," Addison recalled and you laughed.

"Yeah, god, we were so young," you sighed.

"And dumb," Addison reminded and you nodded in agreement.

"So, so dumb," and the two of you fell into another silence as you remembered all of your memories and history together. "We were good though," Addison hummed in reply, a smile on her face.

"We-" Addison began and you felt the seriousness in her tone you moved to look at her, her blue eyes staring into your own, "We could try again." Those four words had hit you like a truck and you didn't know what to say. You sat there dumbly and Addison was becoming more nervous by the second. "It was just a thought, sorry, it was dumb, forget about it," Addison waved off as she slid off the bed and was about to leave when you wrapped a hand around her wrist.

"No, I- I'd like to, try again," you interrupted, "if that was what you were asking."

A smile overcame Addison's features and then her pager went off, "911, I better go, I'll see you later," she confirmed before she was off, running down the hall. When she disappeared as she rounded a corner you rested your head against the wall behind you and grinned; your heart beating happily.

▪▪▪

And the rest was history, you proposed three years after that and today was your wedding. You stood at the alter as you anxiously waited for the love of your life to join you, it was cheesy but she really was. Addison came into view and you felt all the air in your lungs escape, you were getting married, The Captain walked beside her as she walked forward and you watched her with heart-eyes. Her father left her once she was stood in front of you and took his seat next to Bizzy and and Susan. The two of you smiled at each other, you had waited so long for this moment and it was finally here.

"Hi," she whispered with a grin, her dazzling blue eyes so deep you felt as if you were swimming - you were going to love this woman for your whole life, and for whatever came next.

#female reader #x reader #wlw tag #grey's anatomy #reader #wlw #reader insert #addison montgomery x reader #fluff #marriage #youth #previous relationship #reunion #imagine #Blob's fics

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