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heartlogan · 5 months ago

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living to learn

✮— logan x f!mutant!reader (set in deadpool & wolverine)

✮— summary: logan mulls over all that he has lost, and all that he has found, in the void

✮— a/n: i was enabled by yall - please heed the warnings! you dont need to read pt 1 to read this!

✮— warnings: MAJOR DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS, major character deaths, angst, incredibly sad backstory, dead kids / teenagers, practically a genocide of mutants, suicidal ideation (from logan, kind of), reader acts as a mother figure for someone, incorrect dialogue from dp&w, a smidge of comfort, again ANGST, lmk if there’s more!

part one | masterlist

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It’s almost impossible not to linger on the things that you have lost.

And for Logan, it is impossible.

He spends every waking moment craving for the touch of somebody he lost, and he’s painfully aware that it’s all his fault. He caused the loss. And he’s the only one left to mourn you, because god knows the humans won’t.

Even for him, some two hundred years old, it’s all too painful. And he has experienced plenty of pain in his life. But this? Losing you? Losing everyone? It’s too much. So, he does what he can, he pours so much alcohol into his body that he can’t think, can’t imagine what your final moments must have been like.

But between bars, when his healing factor wears the alcohol down, it’s all he sees.

He imagines you there, surrounded by all of your loved ones except for him, unable to save them. And he can remember finding you so vividly, can remember the ashy tone your skin had taken on, all the life drained from you. He can remember exactly where he found you, in front of the doors, your dying action being to try and save the kids in the mansion. He prays to a god that he doesn’t believe in that you died before they did, because knowing that you hadn’t been able to save them would have killed you.

And the other X-Men, they died the same way. Trying to protect each other, trying to protect those kids. And perhaps the only one who knew that it was all in vain would’ve been Jean. Jean, who he found in front of the children.

Where was he?

At some bar, surrounded by humans he couldn’t care less about, all because he was selfish. All because he didn’t want anybody thinking he wanted to be part of the team. God forbid he actually care about something.

And because of his selfishness, his fear, he lost it all.

He lost you.

So when Wade said he could fix Logan’s universe, he would’ve done anything to make that happen. Anything that Wade asked for, he would’ve done. And as soon as his universe was fixed, Logan would go to you and get to his knees, he would beg for your forgiveness.

And all of that, that hope that had evaded him all those years, was for nothing. For an educated wish.

Logan couldn’t do anything but resort to his old habits, grabbing the first bottle of actual alcohol he saw, and finally numbing the image of you dead in his arms.

“There’s five of us.” Elektra told Wade, and Logan paid her no mind. Everything was futile now, pointless. He was only helping Wade to help the team, to help you, and that was likely impossible. So whatever these so-called heroes were planning, he wanted no part in it.

Logan had already secured his legacy in his universe, and it wasn’t the one you had always imagined for him. He was the Wolverine, and he was every bit of violence that name suggested. Because even though he hadn’t been able to save the X-Men, he sure as hell got his vengeance. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, until every single human who was remotely involved in the blood bath at X-Mansion was dead.

You wouldn’t have been proud of his actions, true, but you were dead.

Cassandra had mentioned something about temperance, earlier, and it hadn’t taken him long to recognise that you were the anchor of his. Without you, Logan hadn’t managed any sort of self-restraint. He had slaughtered people. And he could only bring himself to regret those that hadn’t quite deserved it.

By the time the red had faded from his vision, Logan realised he had gone too far. He hadn’t just killed the ones who had murdered his friends, but anyone in connection to them, and anyone who had gotten in his way. The only reason he wasn’t arrested was because they were too afraid of him, and the only reason he hadn’t been killed was because he couldn’t fucking die.

Even the fuckers that had slaughtered the X-Men couldn’t figure out how to kill him, and that was a sick kind of irony.

“Logan, that’s who I was telling you about! X-23!” Wade said excitedly, pointing across the room at a teenage girl, who stared at him like she was seeing a ghost. From the sound of what Wade had said earlier, she probably was.

And the sight of her, for some reason, tugged at his chest. He drowned the feeling with more whiskey.

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“Hey.” Laura greeted you, fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she watched you enter the back of the base, carrying a bag full of food. She seemed nervous, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Hey, Laura, everythin’ alright?” You asked fondly, glancing at her as you started unpacking the supplies that you’d found scattered across the void.

She hesitated, glancing back through the doorway she was stood in, before focusing on you. “Yeah. Uh, I need to talk to you.” She said, sounding incredibly serious, which wasn’t unusual for her. Laura had been through so much, including everything that she had told you about her life before the void. Being here hadn’t made her life any better.

You immediately paused your actions, and turned your full attention towards the teenager across from you. You nodded for her to start.

“I was out patrolling earlier, and I found some people.” Laura said slowly, thinking her words over thoroughly before she spoke them aloud. She didn’t want to make this any worse. “I drove them here, and we’ve made a plan to attack Cassandra’s first thing. Except for one of the two, who doesn’t want to help.”

“Okay…” You said cautiously, almost confused. “This all sounds good, doesn’t it? Whoever they are, they can stay here if they want. Fill me in on the plan, and we’ll handle it.”

“It’s… okay. It’s about who they are.” She clarified finally, giving up on trying to approach the situation cautiously. “It’s a variant of him. Of Logan.”

Your chest squeezed painfully immediately, and you hand to hold a hand to your sternum to try and ease it. If it were any other situation, Laura may have made a joke about you having a heart attack, but she knew better. She knew how she had felt when she first saw the man, so she could imagine how you were feeling.

Immediately, your heart was torn between rushing to see him, and refusing to lay your eyes on the man at all. You weren’t sure you could handle seeing him, or, well, a variant of him.

It hurt too much. Every day you were reminded of how you had failed to save him, but you had to keep going, for the others in the void. Because they needed you, just as much as you needed them. Laura needed you.

She knew your pain all too well, having lost her own Logan. So you knew what she was telling you was the truth. There was really, finally, a Wolverine variant in the void.

“You okay?” Laura asked, after you had been silent for more moments than she was comfortable with. She was looking at you with such concern, and you could tell that her own heart was practically bursting in her chest from the sight of him.

“Are you?” You asked in return, eyebrows raised as you finally started to get a grip on yourself, shaking yourself from the pit of loss you had begun to get stuck in. She nodded, and you nodded yourself before pausing to think. “And this… Logan, he doesn’t want to join to Cassandra’s?”

Laura shook her head, looking down momentarily. “No. He’s… he’s as messed up as my Logan was.”

You approached her, drawing her into a silent hug. She squeezed you tightly, and the strength her mutation — Logan’s mutation — had given her wasn’t lost on you.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” You asked her quietly, and felt her nod against your shoulder. “Alright. Where is he?” You questioned, silently steeling yourself to face a copy of the man you had lost. The man you had loved.

She pointed you in the right direction, letting you go with a simple, “Good luck.” The entire walk outside, you were holding your breath, trying to prepare yourself somehow. As if this was something you would ever be able to prepare for.

And the moment you saw him, you knew it was all in vain. Because nothing could’ve prepared you for seeing him again, after all this time.

For a moment, it felt as though time was stood still, suspended.

Until he opened his mouth. “‘M not lookin’ for company.”

It was him. His familiar voice. The voice that you would’ve recognised anywhere, even after so long not having heard it. He sounded just the same as your own Logan, the same gruff tone to his voice, all grumpy expressions and furrowed brows. You could imagine it all as though your Logan was still alive, as though he was actually here. It took more than a moment for you to recall that this wasn’t your Logan.

You shuffled over to the log he sat on, the sun setting over the trees surrounding the two of you. He lifted the bottle of whiskey to his lips, glancing at you as you sat. His entire body went shock still, and he turned to look at you fully.

You smiled, and prayed he said nothing about the way your eyes became watery. “Hi, Logan.”

He said your name, sounding as though he was a mere man sat before a god, reverent. The bottle slipped from his hand as he spoke it aloud, his eyes watering immediately, his lip trembling as he looked at you like he was seeing you for the very first time.

“Are you… her?” He asked hesitantly, hand hovering halfway towards you, and you hated to be the bearer of bad news. But if you had to be conscious that he wasn’t yours, it was only fair for him to know the truth.

Reluctantly, you shook your head. “I’m sorry. I’m not your version of me, and you’re not my version of you.”

His hand fell to his lap, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment. He seemed reluctant to believe you, and you couldn’t blame him. He looked just like your version of him, grey streaks and all. But it wasn’t him, you knew, because he wasn’t coughing up blood, wasn’t actively dying in your arms.

You cleared your throat, glancing to the fire before him, watching the way the smoke curled into the slowly darkening sky. “My Logan died. I—I couldn’t save you. I’ve been here, in the void, for a year, I think.” You elaborated slightly, not wanting to overwhelm him with information. “I’d like to go home. Mourn my losses.”

He stared at you, saying nothing, fingers still outstretched where his hand lay.

“Laura said you weren’t coming with in the morning. I was hoping you might change your mind. We need your help.” You continued, trying to remain convincing despite the shake in your voice.

But that seemed to do the opposite of what you wanted, and he blinked out of the trance he had been in. He started shaking his head immediately, fingers clenching into a fist. “You got the wrong guy. I’m not… I’m not who you think I am.”

“Maybe not, but, Laura told me you were always the wrong guy, up until you weren’t. And to her, that means something. To me, too.” You said, hoping he wouldn’t pull away further than he already had. As selfish as it was, you didn’t want to lose another Logan. You wanted to see him and his friend succeed, even if you didn’t. Maybe, this time, this Logan, you could save him.

“You don’t get it.” Logan refuted, shaking his head, glancing towards the fire as the sun finally finished descending the horizon. He seemed to get lost in the blaze, and you watched his eyes become unfocused, showing him images that weren’t really there. “I failed them. My team. You.”

You stayed quiet, wondering if he was going to elaborate, or if he was too caught up in his vision.

“D’you know something’?” He asked, blinking until the fire came back into focus. “You used to beg me to wear this suit. So did Storm, Scott, Beast. All of you. And I refused, because god forbid anybody believe I wanted to be there.”

“What happened?” You asked him, wanting to reach for his hand, but knowing it wouldn’t help him get through this.

“I went out. And the humans went mutant hunting. By the time I stumbled home shit-faced from the bar… you—you were all dead. Every single mutant in that house.” He explained, his voice shaking, his lower lip trembling once again. You were almost certain he was seeing those images again, because he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.

A surge of sympathy shot through you. You wanted so badly to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew he wouldn’t believe it.

“So now I wear this goddamn suit as a reminder. To remember all of you. To make sure I never forget what I did.”

You released a deep sigh, the story sounding familiar to you, in some ways. He glanced over at you, seeing somebody else for a moment. After another few seconds, you reached into your shirt and pulled out the dog tags you had been carrying with you. You turned them over in your hand, running your thumb over the inscription.

He glanced wearily at them, and you reached out, grasping his fist in your own hand and pulling it loose until you could fit the dog tags in his hand, which you then squeezed shut. “I carry these with me, for the same reason. To remind myself that I failed you. That I can’t take that back. That I have to do better, even if all I want to do is give up. You aren’t the only one who did something wrong, here. If I could fix my mistakes, I would, but I can’t. So I carry on. For Laura. For anyone who needs it. And it seems like this… Wade needs it. From you.”

His hand was splayed open, turning over the dog tags in his palm as he listened intently to you.

“Be the hero you weren’t the first time around.” You told him finally, reaching out and placing your palm in his, squeezing around the dog tags, before letting go.

You went to stand, and he stood after you, reaching out.

“I—I know you aren’t her. I know that. But can I pretend, for a minute, that you are?” He asked you, and the vulnerability of the request wasn’t lost on you. Your Logan rarely ever asked for anything, even if he desperately needed it, so you could only imagine the courage that this Logan had mustered to ask you that.

You nodded, silent.

There was a pause, and he looked into your eyes, searching for something that you didn’t know you possessed. But he seemed to find it.

“‘M sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Logan told you at last, the apology seeming to burst from the depths of his chest. “I love you. I have loved you the whole time. I should have told you as soon as I felt it.” He confessed, and you saw the dog tags hanging from his fingers as he reached for you. And you couldn’t help yourself — you reached right back.

Your hands landed on either side of his face, so full of care, and you watched the tear run down his cheek. His own hands gripped you tightly, scared to let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, voice broken.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You told him firmly, before rushing forward, pulling him into a hug so tight you could’ve heard his metal bones creak. He buried his face in your hair, breathing you in, and held you tight. “I don’t blame you. I love you.” You said, breathing the words into his ear as though that would make him believe it. He gripped you tighter, squeezing you against him. “I love you.”

You cradled the back of his head with one hand, pressing him close, because you were just as scared to let him go. Distantly, you heard Laura call your name.

After a moment, you pulled back slightly, only to press your forehead against his for a minute. You could pretend that he was your Logan, selfishly, just for a moment more.

Laura got closer, calling out your name once more, and you pulled back to look in his eyes. “I love you.” He told you one last time, before he allowed you to pull yourself from his grasp.

You had no idea whether he would be joining your group tomorrow, but you walked away from him with an empty chest, wiping away the tears that had dared to fall during the encounter. You would leave the last of the motivational speech to Laura, who you smiled gently at as you passed her in the woods, nodding towards where Logan still stood.

Logan had gotten what he needed from you. And you, from him.

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infinitelystrangemachinex · 2 months ago

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In a different world, with Arcane season 1 having such a focus on fathers, Arcane season 2 has a focus on mothers. The highest stakes remain the Piltover/Zaun conflict.

Mel and Ambessa, Caitlyn and Cassandra, Vi and Jinx and Felicia, Jayce and Ximena, Ekko could have someone too, and you know what? We meet Viktor's mom too. Here's why.

Viktor is inspired by the real historical inventor Nikola Tesla. Today, Tesla's family is usually considered Serbian and they lived in what is now Croatia. His father was an Eastern Orthodox priest and his mother, Đuka Mandić, ran the household, a genius in her own right in several ways, including being a clever seamstress, having an incredible memory, and being an inventor herself because she made tools and appliances to help with household tasks. Letters and pieces of interviews show that Tesla spoke fondly of her and that he felt that his talents came from her.

Tesla lived in Prague, Paris, New York, all over, throughout his career. When he was in his 30's, he was giving lectures in Paris when he got word that his mother was dying of illness. He rushed back to Croatia to see her and was there when she died, devastating him.

Listen, arguments can be made about respectfully reflecting real historical figures' lives in fictional characters - but the good, bad, and ugly parts of Tesla's life have already been ground up and used for parts of Viktor's story and in many other pieces of fantasy media. Just imagine a Viktor who leaves home (this wasn't in the show, but according to the writers, they believe Viktor's mom helped him sneak into the Academy, which makes me think they knew about Đuka and if they had included Viktor's mom, she would have been like her) to attend the Academy, intending to help the undercity someday. Arcane plays out in its usual tragic way. Imagine a plotline where Viktor hears that his mother is dying. He goes to see her, help her, something. She dies in his arms.

Just think about Viktor's mom being the specific example of someone he couldn't save, this moment being the one where he realizes his time in Piltover was spent in vain. Imagine she dies because of the problems Piltover and the Hexgates are causing Zaun, be it the Zaun Gray or the tainted water or what have you. It would tie Viktor's story so much more strongly to the plight of Zaun itself, it would be thematically consistent with the other Arcane characters who lose parents, it could be just one of several concrete examples of Viktor trying to help someone with his own hands, and it would show that he had connections besides Jayce that were tethering him and that Singed's "loneliness is often the byproduct of a gifted mind" really was bullshit (whether Viktor realizes it or not).

#in the kindest possible world we get the actual machine herald as well as viktor's mom and season 2 is an intimate drama like season 1 #arcane #viktor #viktor arcane #arcane critical

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scarltzwitch · 5 months ago

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UNEXPECTED CONFESSIONS — WADE W. WILSON.

PAIRING: Wade Wilson x Howlett!OFC.

SUMMARY: After an overwhelming battle against Cassandra Nova, the Howlett family tries to settle into Wade's universe. You feel pressured by your sister, Laura, to talk to him. Overwhelmed, you step out onto the balcony, where Wade follows you and, in a moment of sincerity, confesses his feelings for you. Surprised, you realize that you feel the same way. The encounter ends in a kiss, marking the beginning of an unexpected and special relationship, observed and supported by your small family.

WARNINGS: Bad jokes. Amateur writer.

So, here’s the problem. You feel something for Wade Wilson, the best friend of the variant of your real father, Logan Howlett. Just like the rest of your small family (both Laura and Logan), you were an experiment called "X-15," created through Logan's DNA. After Charles and Logan died, you were left in Laura's care, but that didn’t stop the TVA from taking you both to the Void once they saw you were no longer useful. You had lost all hope, but thanks to Laura's long walks through the woods, you found a new reason to climb out of that dark place.

Now, you were in Wade's small apartment, where you had decided to organize a little family reunion after a long trip to what would be your new home. You were grateful for the new opportunity Wade was giving you in his universe. You were so deep in thought that you didn’t hear Laura calling your name.

“Hey, are you listening, or are you thinking about Wade again?” your younger sister whispered in your right ear, hoping that her father or Wade himself wouldn’t hear her. But that ended up being in vain because both of them looked up at you.

“Me? Thinking about Wade? You're crazy,” you replied nervously. “Why? Why do you ask?” you said, trying to relax while holding Dogpool in your arms, who was playing on your lap.

“It’s obvious on your face that you want to talk to him, why don’t you try?” Laura whispered to her older sister while grabbing Dogpool's paws.

“Just shut up, will you?”

Fed up with Laura’s insistence that you talk to Wade, who was happily chatting with Vanessa, his ex, you turned to her with a serious expression. “I’m going to get some fresh air, don’t get in the way,” you said quietly, leaving the puppy with her, grabbing your coat, and heading out to the balcony of the apartment, ignoring the others’ stares, looking for a bit of peace away from Laura’s tormenting questions.

You leaned on the railing, enjoying the fresh air as it brushed your face while you tried to calm your thoughts. You were so lost in your reflections that, despite your ability to hear the slightest sound, you didn’t catch the approaching footsteps. Feeling a presence behind you, purely by instinct, you turned around, revealing your sharp claws in defense mode, ready to protect yourself.

You turned so quickly that you barely had time to process who was there before your claws gleamed in the sunset light. Wade stopped in his tracks, raising his hands in surrender, with that mischievous smile you couldn’t help but find charming, though you wouldn’t want to admit it.

“Whoa, whoa! Easy, Tigress,” he said, slowly lowering his hands. “It’s just me, the handsome guy who was in there chatting with his new friends. It’s not a big deal, right?”

You lowered your claws and looked at him with a mix of surprise and annoyance. “What are you doing here, Wade? I thought you were busy with Vanessa.”

Wade took a step closer, his gaze softening as he observed the unease in your eyes. “And miss the chance to be alone with you in a romantic scene that the readers would enjoy? Even I’m not that dumb.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help a small smile. “Always so dramatic.”

“It’s one of my charms,” he replied, tapping his chest. Then his tone changed, becoming more serious. “Listen, I know Laura’s been bugging you to talk to me, and I know I’m not the ideal guy. But… I don’t want you to keep thinking that everything is a joke to me.”

The sincerity in his words surprised you, a side of Wade he rarely showed. You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

“What I’m trying to say,” he continued, nervously scratching his neck, “is that… I care about you. More than I thought possible for a fool like me. And I know I’m a mess, but when I’m with you, everything seems to make more sense.”

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t common for Wade to be so open with his feelings, and the tenderness in his voice made you lower your guard completely. Before you could think of a response, he took another step closer, narrowing the space between you.

“What I’m trying to say, and I’m doing it horribly, is that I like you. A lot. And I’d love to know if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same.”

The vulnerability in his gaze disarmed you. You took a deep breath, stepping toward him, closing the remaining space between you. “Wade… I feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice soft but firm.

He smiled, that radiant smile he rarely showed, reserved only for special moments. Without saying another word, he leaned in, and you closed your eyes, feeling his lips meet yours in a kiss that was sweet, tender, and full of all the emotions you both had been holding back.

The world seemed to stop for a moment, leaving the two of you lost in that instant, where nothing else existed but the warmth of one in the other’s arms. When you finally pulled away, Wade rested his forehead against yours, whispering softly, “I never thought someone like you could like someone like me. Thanks for proving me wrong.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “I think we have a lot to learn from each other, Wade. But I’m willing to try.”

He nodded, and in that moment, you knew that things between you were changing, for the better. Wade took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, both of you enjoying the shared silence, knowing there was no rush for what came next.

You were so focused on each other that you barely noticed the soft click of a shutter. A sudden flash surprised you both, and you turned your heads to see your small family group gathered at the window, smiling and holding a camera.

“That’s going straight to the familiar album!” Yukio commented with a knowing smile, clearly delighted for her friends.

Wade let out a soft laugh, not letting go of your hand, while you couldn’t help but blush a little. “Well, I guess it’s not a secret anymore,” he murmured, looking at Yukio with a mix of amusement and gratitude. But instead of being upset, the presence of your friends and their support made you feel more secure, as if that moment was even more special, shared with those who mattered the most to you.

“Why don’t we make that picture worth it?” you said, turning your attention back to Wade, your eyes sparkling with complicity. He smiled, understanding the invitation, and kissed you again, this time with a little more confidence, knowing that, whatever happens, you weren’t alone in this anymore.

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[ @nikkicloudie ]

Hi, hi! I'm really, really sorry for the delay, but here’s the Wade Wilson x Howlett!Reader one-shot. I hope you enjoy it!

— XOXO, LILY.

#deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #marvel x reader #logan howlett #hugh jackman #ryan reynolds #logan howlett x daughter #marvel xmen #deadpool and wolverine #fyp #x force #avengers x fem!reader #marvel x you #logan howlett x reader

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lactoseintolerentswag · 1 year ago

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Rise Characterizations Pt. 5!!!!!

Okay I promised I'd share my Splinter reference notes, so here I am! Also wanna take a moment to thank everyone reblogging the prev. parts. All the tags/notes are so sweet!!! Anyway, here's our one and only Rat Man,

Splinter Character Notes

Language Habits:

Catchphrase: "HOOOOOT SOUP!!!"

Will yell "whoa/oh nelly!" when in a tight spot or stumbling around

Makes puns/dad jokes, and laughs at said jokes to himself

A poor liar, will skirt around the truth until you drop it

Penchant for interrupting people if he's not interested, devout user of "yada, yada", "ah, bup, bup, bup"

Verbalizes his attacks/moves, something his sons pick up on. Could be a habit picked up from his action star days, such moves include: lights off jitsu, and slow motion jitsu

Uses 2010's slang, (i.e. "totes", "chillaxed"), could see him incorrectly using up to date slang to embarrass his boys

In a group refers to his sons as "boys"

One by one will refer to his sons by their designated colors, but will pull out the full name (not nickname) if the situation is serious

Also refers to Donnie as "the funny one"

Personality:

A performer, well he is an actor after all. He knows how to captivate an audience. Splinter likes attention--something that may be connected to his strict childhood with high expectations--but he also performs for his boys. To keep them happy, but most importantly safe. This also means he keeps his true emotions tucked closely to his chest

Jovial. Despite his dark past and heavy responsibility thrust upon him at a young age, Splinter is always laughing. He finds the fun in everything

Secretive. As mentioned before, Splinter tends to keep things close to his chest. Despite this, he's a terrible liar. He'll just avoid the truth until it comes back to bite him in the ass. This makes him sometimes a little emotionally unavailable

Lazy. He always finds the easiest way to do something, and procrastinate on his responsibilities as long as possible

Vain. He's glory seeking for all the proper attention he lost in his youth. So the Lou Jitsu aspect of his life boosted his ego in irreparable ways. He also uses the identity of Lou Jitsu to escape from the idea of being stuck as a rat. Glorifying the past is way to find comfort for him

Adrenaline junkie. Part of that glory-seeking and glorification of the past manifests into him needing adrenaline to feel alive. (i.e. when he steals the tank)

Attentive and empathetic. He can be a little hare-brained when it comes to remembering the details, but he's always very attentive to his sons needs. In flashbacks he's shown to supply them with items needed for their interests (i.e. little Mikey gets art supplies), and always apologizes when he messes up (i.e. the conversation he had with Donnie). This empathy also extends to other people and animals, as he was sympathetic with Cassandra when she was lamenting about the foot clan and was immediately worried about the turtles Draxum had in his lab

Protective. He would sacrifice everything to save his sons, and he does

Miscellaneous:

His tail is Very expressive, and one of the most active parts of his body, so if you want to subtley show emotion I'd focus on that

Has a Lou Jitsu body pillow

Remembers all his stunt double's names

Snores loudly

Talented singer, can sing opera and lived next to a karaoke bar in Japan

The show he watches the most is called "Soapy Treadmill", a Japanese game show where they throw things like scorpions at people who are soapy on treadmills

Has a "do not touch!" cabinet, full of trophies, mystic artifacts, and mementos of his past

I have a List of all the mentioned Lou Jitsu movie names mentioned in S1, but I'm probably gonna wait till the end of my S2 rewatch and post it separately (it's also long too). Will link here!

I'm also gonna add a recommendation here at the end.

This is for the white and non East Asian folks. I'm not as well-versed in East Asian or Japanese culture, but Splinter is a first generation immigrant! He keeps a distance from his heritage because of the trauma of his youth, and the role Lou Jitsu probably also forced him to westernize his identity to make it more palpable to Hollywood. But it would be a disservice to sever parts of his identity, because one is uncomfortable or not knowledgeable in writing it.

For my white folks intimidated by writing a person of color because they want to get it right, research always helps. Research helps with everything!!! writingwithcolor here on tumblr actually has a lot of useful resources, here's their guideline, and a research chart one of their moderators created, which I personally found to be very helpful. I believe their ask box is closed right now, but if you ask questions in the future be nice!!!!

Anyway I'm gonna do April next :)

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt hamato yoshi #character analysis #writing #fanfic #long post #critter talks #rottmnt lou jitsu

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im-just-a-simp-le-whore · 3 days ago

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The Beginning Of The End - an Arcane fix it??

so. I just busted this out. its not edited at all. have no idea if I'll even continue it after i post this first chapter. had this idea floating around for while, since season 2 ended tbh. if Jayce and Viktor are ooc yall, pls bare with me I'm still very new to writing characters that aren't mine. (that's all I wrote previously)

for context, reader is an empath and whatever they feel is reflected on their hair via colors. the color/emotion used this chapter is anxiety=orange based on this image. if I continue this, the color wheel below will always be referred back to

also, i am open to constructive criticism!! if I've misspelled something pls pls pls tell me!! or if i could've worder something better or used a different word!!

SPOILERS FOR ARCANE SEASONS 1 AND 2 RIGHT OFF THE BAT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

ALSO TW: ANXIETY, SPIRALLING AND SKIN PICKING, MEDICATION AND ALCOHOL

An explosion

A white light

Bright

Blinding

crashing

falling

A decent that feels like eternity

A buzzing

Ringing

Echoes of voices

It's everywhere

All around me

All at once

A whirlwind of emotions

Blurs of colors

Dizzying sights of people

And suddenly, I am awake

“(name), Dear? (name)?”

I feel a gloved hand shake my shoulder. I gasp as my eyes come back into focus onto Cassandra Kiramman.

It feels as though I’ve fallen into my own body

“Mrs.Kiramman..? Wha-what? Where am… I? How did I..?” I whisper, confused, as i rub my temples with my right hand, my left swinging back to grab my pole staff only to realize

Its not fucking there

Cassandra scoffs, and shakes her head, eyeing my left hand placement, She takes a sip of champagne and tutts

“My my dear, it seems you've had too much wine, hmm?” she asks, her tone almost playful.

Looking around I see that I'm at hextech’s first celebration.

This…. This isn't right! Mere minutes ago i was watching viktor and jayce get sucked into.. A vortex..? A portal? How am I back?

Letting out a nervous giggle, and nod

“Ye-yeah! Must've been too much wine… on that note I'm gonna step outside, take a walk in the garden and sober up.”

If Mrs.Kiramman notices my anxiety, she makes no comment and nods, walking away towards Shoola.

Without waiting a second more, I made a swift move towards the garden. Blurting quick “Pardon me!’s” and “excuse me’s” along the way, narrowly avoiding people and their gaze. After what feels like forever, I make it to the garden doors, quickly shoving them open and running outside into the cold winter air of the night.

A blanket of snow covers most of the garden, except for the stone path that weaves through it. Proof of the first snowfall in piltover, the cement is still too warm from autumn for the snow to remain.

I briefly turn around to make sure no one has followed me, and from what i can tell, they haven't. With that, I turn back towards the garden and begin to quickly walk the path, following it deeper in, where I'll be obscured by trees and bushes that have yet to die.

Traversing further in, I come across a stone bench and sit down. Holding my face in my hands i sigh loudly into my palms

How the fuck did I end up almost an entire decade back in time! Why here of all places?? Did everything that happened before… Was it a strange dream??? A warning of what's to come??

Standing up, I begin pacing back in force in front of the bench, softly muttering “one, two, three, four… one, two, three, four” in repetition, a vain attempt to calm myself down. As I begin to pick at my left arm, glancing down I realize that the anomaly is gone, no longer is there a scar with a kaleidoscope of colored webs that make up parts of my skin. But instead in its place is the tattoo of words that were there before the anomaly.

I sigh again, and look away from my arm, looking ahead at the trees infront of as i continue to pace

No.. not a warning, nor a dream. But memories, my memories. They're too real, too… tangible. With far too many emotions attached to them for them to be oddly elaborate dreams. and If I think about them hard enough, I can still smell and taste them. Still physically feel the emotions tied to them.

In my anxiety induced pacing I fail to hear two sets of footsteps. One quick, with heavy steps, another with softer, slower steps with the soft, in sync tap! tap! tap! Of a cane.

Pacing faster, my breath comes out in short, ragged puffs. As the Anxiety consumed me whole.

as the tips of my (h/c) hair begin to turn orange. Anxiety is starting to consume me. I begin roughly tugging at my hair, another failed attempt at self soothing. As my thoughts begin to spiral

How how how!? How the hell did I end up back here? Does that mean I have to lose them again? That I have to watch as they turn into people they would have never dreamt of becoming? I cant lose them again, i cant deal with the isolation again. The pain, the chasing, the begging, the crying. I cant. I cant i cant icant icant icant-

“(name)? Are you alright? We saw you fly out of the party like a bat out of hell after talking to Mrs.Kiramman. Did something happen?”

And for a split second, a flash. I see them as their future selves. Viktor in a purple robe with Long brown hair with blonde at the ends, a body made almost entirely of metal and magic. Swirls of black and purple, almost like the magic itself is breathing.

Jayce, a mess of black hair that's gotten long enough to be in his eyes, a smaller, no, a skinnier body. Covered in dirt, grime, and maybe blood? A brace on his left leg, still dressed in his counselor attire.

Blinking away those images, as I shake my head and let go of my hair. “Yeah, I'm.. I'm fine, just had a little too much to drink tonight. Or maybe, an interaction with my new meds. Anyones best guest at this point." I say with an awkward chuckle, trying to feign indifference as if I wasn't just seconds away from pulling my hair out in panic.

Jayce and Viktor share a brief, confused glance.

They're not buying it. At all.

Viktor nods with a small tilt of his head, and hums.

“Fine is not tugging at our hair and pacing back and forth, both of which only happen when you are spiraling or about to spiral. So, let's try this again. What's wrong, little lasko?”

Looking back and forth between the two men, I sigh for what feels like the upteenth time tonight, and opt to give a half truth. “I.. it's just.. These weird dreams I've been having. They just feel… a little too real. More so than usual, and it's just been a lot.. Been overwhelmed with having to present my research soon and starting a new medication on top of it all. Sorry for the worry.”

I barely finish speaking, and Jayce wraps me up in a tight hug. I let out a breath of relief and relax into the hug, as Jayce says

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner? You know we’re here-” Viktor cuts in,

“And you know better than to isolate and spiral. We’ve talked about this little lasko, you know it hurts you more in the long run to handle things this way. You should have said something when this started.”

Jayce gently pulling back from the hug cuts back in, “speaking of which, how long ago did this start?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, I stare blankly for a moment, swallowing the small lump in my throat, I softly say “A few weeks ago.. I think..?” out of the corner of my eye, I can see the tips become more orange, my anxiety showing itself more than it did previously

As Viktor and Jayce begin to lecture me, we hear a twig snap a bit behind them. As they turn to locate the sound, I see it. A figure in a black cloak surrounded by mist. I feel a mixed bag of emotions, few of my own, mostly the strangers’ . Rage, resentment, fear, murderous, and ... excitement?

I squint my eyes to getter look at him in the dark, as they begin to walk closer, I suddenly realize who it is, and come to terms with the fact that despite being almost a decade in the past, I've still yet to outrun him, and this is truly in fact, The Beginning Of The End,

#arcane viktor x reader #viktor arcane #viktor arcane x reader #arcane #arcane s2 #arcane s2 spoilers #arcane season 2 #jayce x reader #jayce talis #jayvik x reader #arcane s1 spoilers #as ive said before i cannot write for shit and its been a long time so im sorry yall #jayce talis x reader #arcane jayce x reader

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blackmistral · 5 months ago

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Bound by Love - Alcina Dimitrescu x Reader/OC

Omg first of all - HI! so no one knows me here (😞) but if any of you ever wrote a fanfic about Alcina, i most probably read it bc i'm literally in love with her! I began writing this a long time ago for myself and decided to finish it to publish it here! My first language isn't english and I originally wrote it in french so I hope the translation isn't too bad! Please feedback for any mistakes! (it's so goddamn short ngl)

The path to the village was by no means hard to access. The only real dangers were the traps and the lycans - who nevertheless kept a relatively safe distance from the young woman. But on this day, there was no such danger.

Laura made her own way to the village to go to the night market, claiming she didn't mind the task. Alcina Dimitrescu's three daughters, Bela, Cassandra and Daniela, had all offered to accompany her, but she had told them she'd be quicker on her own. So, she dressed warmly, given Romania's capricious October weather, and went out with nothing more than a sorrel basket and a small purse. She hadn't gone to notify Alcina of her departure, since she was still working in her office and wish not to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.

So, she headed down towards the village, keeping an eye on her surroundings. The trees around her looked threatening, as if they were warning her off. As she went deeper into the forest and looked back for a moment, she noticed that she could no longer see the castle in the fog. Clenching her fists for courage, she started walking faster. Each step seemed to lead her back towards an uncertain danger; and she widened her eyes when she spotted a large shadow behind her. It must have been there for some time, but the bad weather had prevented the young woman from seeing properly. A hand came to rest on her right shoulder, and she jumped. Thinking at first of a lycan, she was, for a moment, calmed by the realization that the figure behind her was not a monster but a man. But when she looked at his dirt-covered face, she was astonished to discover that there was nothing human about his gaze. He was glaring at her bitterly, as if she wasn't really to his liking. A wry smile appeared after a few seconds, however, and she suddenly remembered that she was alone - and defenseless - against this stranger.

“Did you get lost, pretty girl?”

His voice sounded to her like a low growl, meant to be threatening. Laura tried to step aside and answer, but the hand on her shoulder moved abruptly to her throat and grabbed her neck. It was hard to breathe now, and the realization hit her once again. Not only was she alone, but she wasn't expected back at the castle for at least another hour. Alcina, she thought. She imagined her face until the grip around her neck tightened and the man pushed her to the ground. She tried to catch her breath, but her assailant came dangerously close, giving her no respite.

She wondered how this had happened. Alcina had told her, warned her, that she shouldn't go out alone. Laura had found her reasons somewhat foolish before, until now.

He threw himself at her, a terrifying smile plastered on his face. She began to cry now, her tears falling into the mud. The man grabbed her jacket and blouse and yanked them off, tossing the clothes aside. She was now in her underwear and bra, her face twisted in fear, trying in vain to scream for help. She felt naked, humiliated. He moved his fingers towards her chest, ignoring her pleas and cries, forcing one of his hands over her mouth to silence her. It was when he touched her breast that a ferocious growl was heard, stopping the man in his doing. He frowned.

“What the hell?”

Behind him, a shadow nearly ten foot tall made him break out into a cold sweat. He turned around slowly, and Laura recognized her. She'd recognized her by the rumble in her voice. Alcina. She now approached at full speed, growling again, and sank her outstretched claws into the mortal's throat. Blood splattered onto her white dress, but she paid it no mind, her gaze fixed on the one she was about to kill.

“My wife. My partner. You dare lay your hands on her? Prostule!” she exclaimed almost breathlessly, the rage consuming her.

He choked as he tried to answer, but she dug her claws into his chest, and he stopped breathing. Laura watched the scene before her, torn between relief and fear. Alcina dropped the lifeless body to the ground, seeming to regain awareness of what she had done. She rushed over - still with the same elegance that fascinated Laura - and knelt beside her, taking her in her arms.

“My darling,” she murmured.

Laura noticed that Alcina was trembling too and put her arms around her neck.

“Alcina... Alcina,” she sobbed.

“I'm here, comoara mea.”

The vampire ran her gloved hand through the young woman's hair and embraced her, rising to her original height. Laura wrapped her legs as best she could around her broad torso and rested her head on her breasts. She was still sobbing, shocked by the events that had taken place in such a short space of time. Alcina stayed silent and walked carefully to the castle.

***

Inside, the oil lamps were still burning brightly. Laura's skin was pale, slightly bluish at the tips, and her teeth were chattering. Alcina went straight across the central courtyard and into the building where their apartments and luxurious bathroom were located. A bathtub, with gigantic dimensions to match the vampire's supernatural size, was set in a corner of the room, near a window overlooking the forest below. Alcina placed Laura gently on the cabinet and sat her down, then tried to pull away; unsuccessfully, in view of the small, trembling hand that held her by the sleeve of her dress.

“I'll just run some hot water, darling. I'll only be a moment.”

When the young woman nodded softly and let go of the cloth, Alcina moved to the bathtub and turned on the hot water tap. She added one of her wife's favorite foaming soaps, then returned to her. Laura had never looked so fragile. True, she was a “tiny” woman, but this was one of the only times she'd seen her so terrified.

It was a sight she never wanted to see again.

She approached again and slowly ran her hands over the marks on Laura's neck.

“My beloved... Forgive me for not having been here before. As soon as I knew you were in danger...”

The vampire lowered her face to her wife's throat and planted her canines delicately in the mark she had given her at their wedding. Laura stroked Alcina's hair as she kissed the bruises. The brunette took Alcina's face in her hands and gave her a tired but sincere smile.

“I'm fine now. You saved me, as you always have.”

Yet, despite her reassuring words, Laura was still trembling. Alcina stepped aside, undressed and removed Laura's remaining clothes with ease, then led the young woman to the bath. She placed her at the front of the tub and settled herself behind her before pulling her back against her chest. Warm and tender kisses were placed on the nape of her neck and Laura sighed.

“For a moment, I thought... it was too late,” she whispered.

The big arms around her instinctively tightened and Alcina nestled her nose in his neck.

“I'll always be there to protect you. From anyone and anything. I sensed you were in danger the moment you came across that... horrible lucru stupid de om.”

Alcina growled softly, then tenderly kissed the back of the young woman's neck.

“When I sensed your fear, your anguish... the first thing I did was look for you all over the castle. The girls came to see me and told me you'd left... Why didn't you warn me? You know the risks of leaving my lands alone, my angel.”

“I didn't want to bother you,” Laura admitted. “You're so stressed with the investors these days…”

“Those stupid incompetents - and my wine - are not my priority. You are my priority,” Alcina whispered, turning the brunette's head to rub her cheek against hers. “I apologize if I let you think otherwise.”

Hearing these words, Laura turned in her wife's embrace to face her.

“I didn't mean it that way. Even though I often find it hard to believe, I know you love me,” she said, smiling sheepishly, her cheeks flushed. “And I'm enormously grateful. Without you and our daughters... I'd be nothing.”

Alcina ran a hand through her companion's sleek hair and smiled back.

“Just like us, darling.”

***

When the water turned cold and Laura had fallen asleep, Alcina decided it was time for them to go to bed. Their daughters had probably gone hunting, and it was late in the night by now.

Once settled comfortably in their bed and dressed in a light nightgown belonging to Alcina, Laura looked peaceful, the vampire thought. She lay down beside her and wrapped her arms around her again. Alcina was by no means an insecure woman. She was afraid of nothing and nobody. But in the presence of such a fragile being... She couldn't help wondering if she would ever be too late. She frowned. “No one's going to take you away from me. I love you too much for that to happen.”

#lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x oc #omg my first fic #bear w me 😞#anyway i love alcina #please tell me if this is rly bad

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that-boleyn-boy · 4 days ago

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Give us the Infodump !!

>_<

Oki dokes!! So the whole thing was based around the idea of “what if Caitlyn met Isha while being involved with Jinx and they grew close”. Very found family, very silly, had lighthearted intent originally.

And then I remembered that Isha dies.

So, taking it from the top (copy and pasted ramble btw)

What if Caitlyn grows close to Jinx and Isha . She’s got a family again, Jinx and Isha filling the voids left behind by her family and Vi. Her, Jinx, and Isha sit in a little circle coming up with new signs for Isha to use. Isha likes to sit in Cait's lap and play with her hair since Caitlyn wears it down around them. Isha suggests the idea of dyeing a streak of Caitlyn's hair light blue, specifically the bit that hangs on the left side of her face when she has her bun. Caitlyn isn't super down with the idea at first, not knowing how people topside would react but she can't just say no to Isha. So one day she leaves with a blue streak in her hair and dye on her face. Jinx offers to give Caitlyn her first tattoo but Caitlyn wants it to be a surprise for her and Isha. She ends up mirroring Jinx’s cloud tattoos and getting Isha’s helmet tattooed. Jinx dismisses it a bit, but cries once Caitlyn leaves.

Caitlyn would cover Isha with her cape and let her like hide in it when she wore it. Caitlyn being the overachiever she is, probably knows sign language or at least knows a bit, and she taught Isha how to sign “I love you.”

Isha never used it until she was fighting Warwick.

Speaking of which. During the battle against Warwick Caitlyn gets injured trying to get to Isha before she sacrifices herself. She tries to claw her way closer, pushing and shoving to try and protect Isha. Vi is protecting Jinx, and Caitlyn gets wounded and collapses, trying to pull herself closer in a pathetic attempt to save Isha. She’s frantic when she wakes up from being unconscious. She stumbles through her house, calling the girl’s name, hoping that by some slim chance, Isha will run up to her and give her the same hug Isha would give whenever Caitlyn visited Jinx. She blames herself every day for it. If she’d just been a bit faster, a bit stronger, a bit tougher, Isha could be alive. Even once the war is over, she wakes up and expects Jinx and Isha to be there with her, Isha cuddled between the two. She cries every time it happens.

After the war, she learns how to embroider and adds the little swirl design Isha had on her goggles onto her eyepatch. Whenever Caitlyn sees a kid playing with their older sibling or their mom she has to take a moment to steady herself. It’s not Isha. It’s not Jinx. It’s not Jayce. It’s not Cassandra. Caitlyn searches the vents of the hexgates every time she can, looking for Jinx, hoping that she’ll find something. Before the battle Caitlyn painstakingly paints the Kiramman crest on Jinx’s back.

“This is a one time thing, got it? I wont associate with any other fancy Piltie house,”

“I know baby. I’m almost done,”

Eventually she finds a bit of paint, it’s the same color that she painted the crest with. Caitlyn breaks down, leaving things that Jinx liked down there, hoping that when she goes down again, something will be moved, food eaten, anything. She leaves stuffed toys Jinx liked, snacks Jinx would eat, drawings that her, Jinx, and Isha made together. She gets her hopes up every time. She’ll embroider pieces of clothing with designs that remind her of Jinx, clouds, bullets, “X” designs, etc. She knows it’s in vain but she can’t help it.

The reason she’s so convinced that Jinx is alive is A. She’s gay and pathetic and very sad, and B. A little while after the finale, Caitlyn finds a box of eye patches on her desk. All of them are colorful and customized, all in Jinx’s style.

#caitlyn arcane #caitlyn kiramman #arcane #caitjinx #caitlyn x jinx #jinx x caitlyn #jinxcait #jinx #jinx arcane #au #isha arcane #jinx and isha #caitlyn and isha #found family

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misseviehyde · 1 year ago

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GHOST LIT

Melissa had never thought she would meet the love of her life, fall instantly in love and get married so quickly, (especially after being single for so long) - but all her dreams had finally come true. Dan was gorgeous - a well-read and well-spoken gentleman who had an impeccable taste in fashion and interior decoration and was the CEO of a small, but successful limited company.

Melissa was a piano teacher, and she'd met Dan when he came for lessons. As he brushed back his sexy hair and grinned at her with his confident smile, she'd felt her stomach flutter and known she had finally met the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Her heart had sank when she'd seen the wedding ring on his finger, but he'd blushed at her gaze - almost reading her mind.

"I... was... married. She died in an accident. I still wear the ring, though I don't know why. My former wife... well she wasn't a very nice person. It wasn't until she died that I realised she'd been dominating my life, gas-lighting me into thinking everything was my fault. She had me totally under her heel and treated me very poorly. Sorry, I shouldn't speak so ill of the dead, but I'm glad she died, I finally feel free. That's why I'm having these lessons, I want to live - I want to finally do all the things I should have done when I was married to Cassandra."

They'd hit it off immediately and begun dating a week later. A year later and they were married - and Melissa was finally moving into Dan's amazing mansion home. She didn't care that he was rich, or that he'd lived here with his evil ex-wife... all that mattered was that she was finally with the man of her dreams.

Still - as they passed into the house, Melissa couldn't help but shiver. The house still bore the marks of Cassandra's spoiled influence. The more Melissa had learned of the evil, manipulative, vain and cruel Cassandra - the more she was glad she had never met the bitch. She wondered how Dan had ended up with such a bad girl - or why he had allowed her to gaslight him for so long. Dan had told him that Cassandra had even fucked other guys, but somehow made him feel it was his fault for being an inadequate lover.

"She gets into your head and makes you her puppet," he had sighed sadly. "Sorry - I mean, got into your head. You know... it's funny, but sometimes I almost feel like she is still here. Crazy I know! Just ignore me, I'm being a fool of course."

That had really made Melissa shiver. The thought that Dan's ex-wife might be haunting the house - watching them like some malicious purveyor really made her feel uncomfortable. Good job she didn't believe in ghosts.

"This is our home now baby," she had smiled. "We're going to be happy here. Now forget all about your ex-wife and lets start our new life together."

****

In the dark corners of the bedroom an evil spirit gloated as it watched Melissa innocently unpack her things. At last - a woman was here. A weak, willed, goody-two-shoes of a woman. A foolish little slut with no idea of the transformation she was going to undergo. Cassandara smiled as she drifted close to her victim and tasted her innocent spirit. Sustained by spite and bitterness, the spirit of Dan's former wife looked appraisingly at Melissa as an artist might look at a piece of clay. So much potential... so much fun to be had.

Melissa shivered and she turned her head, almost as if she sensed something. Weird, it felt like she was being watched. For a moment the tension seemed to stretch out and then Melissa shrieked and nearly jumped out of her skin, as with a clatter, something fell from the top of the wardrobe... almost as if it had been pushed off. Regaining her composure, Melissa convinced herself the object had fallen naturally and walked over to pick it up. It was a jewel case containing a DVD. Why it had been hidden on top of the wardrobe, she wasn't sure.

"What the hell is this?" she mused, walking over to the bedroom TV and sliding the DVD into the player beneath. It whirred up and Melissa sat on the bed to watch. To her surprise when the screen came on, it showed a video of the very bedroom she was now sitting it, only it was at night. Red candles and soft lighting lit the room, and the sheets were white satin.

Melissa gasped and her hand went to her mouth as she saw two figures on the bed. One was Dan, only slightly younger looking - the other was an amazing looking woman with a perfect, toned, body and firm full breasts. Her body oozed sensuality as with a moan of pleasure she lowered herself onto Dan's cock and began to ride him.

Melissa watched in horror as the woman in the video fucked her husband. Fucked. That was the only way to describe it. When she and Dan had sex it was gentle love-making, this was like watching a porn video. Dan's face was a mask of ecstasy, the woman on top of him moaning as she thrust her hips obscenely like she wanted to suck his dick up into herself and she took his straining cock deeper and deeper inside her.

"Oh Cassie, fuck me," he moaned... "I need you so badly."

"That's right Dan," she hissed, "my pussy controls you - only I can make you feel this way. Say it."

"YES! OH YES, CASSIE, your pussy owns me - you're better than every other woman. Only you can make me feel this way."

"Mmmmmh, good boy - I will ALWAYS be in control of your life."

Melissa felt sick to her stomach, yet she couldn't stop watching. Cassie bounced on top of Dan with hot wet slaps, moaning and laughing as she squeezed her tight pussy around his dick and made him hers. Dan was shaking, his uncontrollable lust for his bitch wife clear to see. His eyes shone with devotion and with a wracking sob, Melissa realised he had never looked at her like that.

"Oh my God Dan, why did I have to see this?" she sobbed. "I thought we had a special connection, but now I see what you were like with her... you'll never need me like you needed her. I can't believe this, I can't compete with that bitch!"

Hearing movement downstairs, Melissa quickly turned off the DVD, ejected and hid it under the bed. She used some tissues to quickly blot her tears and put on a fake smile as Dan entered the room. He walked over and put his arm around her lovingly. "Everything okay baby?"

"Of course," she lied, "everything is fine."

****

It was hours later and Melissa couldn't sleep. She couldn't stop thinking about the DVD and what she had seen. The scene seemed to replay in her mind again and again and again. As she lay in the bed, tossing and turning, with Dan snoring next to her, she wanted to scream but she couldn't.

Grinning maliciously, Cassandra floated over to Melissa and took a position up behind the bed-head. Reaching down she slid her spectral fingers towards Melissa's brow and sighed pleasurably as her phantasmal digits slid into the other woman's head. She'd tried this before, but Melissa's unconscious mental defences had been too strong. Now her mind was wide open.

Melissa groaned in relief as a sudden cool sensation seemed to slide into her head. After hours of restlessness, she suddenly felt drowsy, and though the sex scene in her head continued to play - it no longer made her feel sad. Instead she began to feel horny as she watched the lovers fuck.

The memory became a dream, and as she watched the lovers rutting - Cassie's face seemed to melt like wax and then reform. With a gasp of astonishment Melissa realised she was now watching herself riding Dan - only, with a body like Cassie's. Melissa couldn't believe how good her face looked on that bitchy body, all tanned and perfect. She felt her heart beat faster and a sudden yearning to be like the woman in her dream and make this fantasy come true began to fill her mind.

Why not become more like Cassie? Why not see if you can make Dan lust for you like he used to lust for her?

Melissa sighed happily in her dreams as strange thoughts and whispers filled her mind and her lips twisted into a unfamiliar smile. Finally she slept, and her dreams were sooooo naughty that night...

*****

Dan blinked in surprise as he walked into the kitchen to find Melissa on a stool whistling and doing her makeup. For a second he was struck by deja-vu then he realised why.

"Melissa, are you wearing my ex-wife's clothes? What the hell? I packed all that stuff away in the garage months ago! Did you go unbox it?"

Melissa looked at him in confusion. "Baby, I found this stuff in my wardrobe, I thought since you'd left it out, you wouldn't mind me wearing it. I never thought of wearing clothes like this before, these leather pants feel really nice. Don't you like how they look?"

Dan had to admit that Melissa did look good in Cassie's bitchy clothes... he felt his cock twitch. There was something kind of hot about nice girl Melissa being a bit more like his nympho-ex, but why was she lying to him?

"Melissa, tell the truth - I never left those clothes out - you must have got them from the garage."

Melissa frowned, "Dan - I promise you, they were in my wardrobe when I woke up this morning. Are you accusing me of being a liar?"

"Of course not," he said reluctantly - but full now of spite, he snapped - "They don't fit you anyway, you'd need to lose weight and tone up to pull those off."

Melissa scowled. "Maybe I will then!" she snarled, stomping off back up to the bedroom.

Dan immediately regretted being mean to Melissa, but he was too proud to go apologise, so he left her to fester.

Cassie smiled as she invisibly watched - it had all played out exactly as she had known it would. Floating through the wall into the bedroom she smirked as she floated behind Melissa and slid her fingers into the other woman's head. They slid in easier now, like Melissa's mind was embracing their touch - almost pulling them in.

Melissa's eyes widened slightly and a lovely relaxed feeling throbbed through her body as Cassie's evil influence pulsed into her body. The clothes seemed to pulse with the same corruption, Melissa was now encased in Cassie's bitchiness and it was starting to transfer into her body.

He's right - you do need to tone up and shape up - and you will. You know you deserve to wear these clothes and you only want to dress like this. Throw away all your old clothes, go to the garage and take all of Cassie's things - replace your entire wardrobe with hers. Dan will only lust for you if you become more like Cassie. Do it...

Melissa moaned as her brain pulsed with pleasure. Standing up she walked to her wardrobe and with a sneer, began to rip her old clothes out. It was time to upgrade... and join a gym.

****

"Yes, this is more like it," smiled Melissa as she admired herself in the mirror a few weeks later. The amount of weight and toning up that she had achieved in such a small amount of time was incredible. In fact, it was almost supernatural. If she didn't know better she'd say that some outside force had been assisting her - speeding up her physical transformation from a slightly frumpy housewife into a toned and athletic looking hottie.

Dan had certainly noticed, but not complained - their sex becoming more ambitious and his pleasure in her superior body noticeable. Melissa had almost completely stopped playing the piano or taking lessons in order to shape up and Dan hadn't objected when she had told him she wouldn't be contributing to the finances this month.

In truth, he felt guilty that he had told Melissa she needed to shape up, and his guilt gave her power over him. Power Melissa was starting to enjoy.

She walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed. All at once the delicious tingling throbbing feeling she got in her head whenever she was in this room came back and she smiled happily. She always had her best ideas in the bedroom - it was almost like someone was projecting ideas into her head and the more she relaxed and welcomed it, the faster the ideas seemed to come.

"Yes, I should try on some of the tighter, bitchier, clothes that Cassie used to own. I can probably fit into them now," grinned Melissa as she opened the wardrobe where she had put all the naughtiest clothes she had found - but had not quite been able to fit into - in. Now she was about the same body build as Cassie though, it should be easy.

Melissa shivered as she stroked the latex clothing, faux-fur, leather boots and bougie jewellery on display. Could she really wear this stuff? It seemed like something some sort of slutty bad bitch might wear.

"Hurry up and try them on... you're going to feel sooooo fucking hot and horny in those clothes. Haven't you seen how Dan has been responding to your physical improvements, next you need to start acting like a bad-bitch. He enjoys being bullied and pushed around, it actually turns him on. Try it. Put on an outfit and go tease him."

Melissa shivered and nodded. Sometimes it felt like there was a voice in her mind whispering such deliciously evil things to her, but she had to admit - everything the voice told her to do worked. With shaking hands she reached out and chose a bitchy outfit.

It was tight - far tighter than anything she had ever worn. A tight black one-piece black and white bodysuit. It was funny how the suit seemed to squeeze her tits up and out - she was sure they seemed bigger these days. High heels shoes also pushed her up - her feet felt smaller and more arched since she moved in with Dan and a generous application of expensive makeup made her look like a total bitch.

She was immediately aroused and she felt hotter and more powerful than ever before. With a confident stride, she clip clopped around the room, smirking at the feeling of power Cassie's clothes gave her. It felt like the old her was being smothered and something cruel and bitchy was taking over. She loved the feeling and wanted more.

Striding next door, Melissa felt arousal as Dan gasped at her outfit. His eyes lustfully drank in her body and she smirked to see the effect she was having on him. He came towards her, but she disdainfully pushed him away. "You'll spoil my makeup, keep back. You've been pissing me off lately, so if you want a piece of my ass, you're going to have to start treating me better."

For a moment Dan looked like he might object... then he licked his lips nervously. "Yes... dear, whatever you say. I'm sorry."

Melissa felt her pussy tingle and her nipples get hard. Wow - making your man do what you wanted, felt really good. "Good boy, perhaps later, if you're good I'll reward you - but for now I'm going shopping and I want to spend some big money. You don't mind do you dear?"

"Of course not baby," muttered Dan.

Melissa was acting more and more like his old wife every day - yet somehow, that was really turning him on.

******

Cassie looked around the shop in delight - her hold over Melissa had grown strong enough that she was now finally able to leave the house. A thin cord of energy, steadily growing thicker and heavier was growing between them and Cassie could feel her influence pulsing into the other woman, feeding Melissa's lust, ambition and cruelty.

Melissa's body had changed so much in the last few weeks and the stupid bitch hadn't even questioned how her tits had got three sizes bigger. Instead, she was proud of her sluttier body and thanks to the constant corruptive thoughts Cassie was sending into her protegee's head - she was getting worse by the minute.

"Yes, I deserve nice things and for Dan to pay for it all," hissed Melissa in glee as she tried on a pair of $500 boots that felt so nice over her latex bodysuit. She knew she didn't need the boots but she wanted them, so she took them. It felt great to get what she wanted and be a spoiled bitch.

Melissa admired herself as she passed a mirror. She'd been for a full body-wax this morning and her perfect abs, big-booty and huge tits were straining to break free of her super tight bodysuit. She looked amazing and she revelled in feeling the hungry stares of men and women alike as they passed her. "I'm a fucking Goddess," she laughed as she strutted down the street in her new boots, heading for home.

Entering the house, Melissa found Dan in the living room and beckoned him with a finger. "Come with me. I'm horny and I want you to fuck me."

They entered the bedroom and Dan excitedly unzipped Melissa out of her latex suit - her smooth, naked body ready to be ravished. She smiled excitedly as she pushed him onto the bed and drawing the curtains lit a number of candles. There - now things looked exactly as they had on the DVD. Dan seemed confused, but also turned on as Melissa straddled him and with an excited gasp lowered herself onto his cock.

"Oooooh, yes," she groaned loving how good it felt to finally be the bitch of her dreams as she began to gyrate her hips and ride her husband, just as she'd seen on the video.

"Oh my God Melissa, your pussy feels so tight... it's amazing," groaned Dan.

"I've been working out," purred Melissa as she fucked her man. "Tell me that you like the bitchy new me, tell me how much you love that I've become more like your ex-wife."

"Ohhhh yes, I love what you've become, I don't know why or how, but it turns me on so much."

"Good boy," purred Melissa as she increased her bounces. "I love what a bad girl I'm turning into and it feels like there is still so much more for more to do."

Cassie watched proudly as Melissa took control of Dan and made him her pussy slave. Corrupting the other woman had been so much fun and there was still so much more to do. A bit more gas-lighting and Melissa would be even bitchier. Cassie was wondering if eventually she could even make the other woman worse than she had ever been.

It was definitely going to be fun to try...

****

EPILOGUE (Weeks later)

Ghosts don't sleep - but they do fade in and out from time to time. Cassie had been somewhere else when she was suddenly rudely pulled into reality.

She was in a room - her living room - only there were candles lit everywhere. This wasn't something she had planned... what was happening?

In the middle of the room around the table sat Melissa and Dan. They were holding hands and Melissa had her head thrown back as in rapture.

"Hear me... spirit of this place. I summon thee and bind thee. Thou shalt obey me."

"Honey are you sure this is a good idea? You don't really believe there is a ghost do you?"

Melissa's lips twitched into an evil smile. "Oh yes honey. There is a ghost and I know who she is. But don't worry - I know how to deal with her."

Cassie felt a flash of panic and admiration. How had Melissa learnt of her existence - she thought she had been careful.

"Oh spirit of Cassie. I bind thee and summon thee into my body. All your bitchiness, all your knowledge shall be mine. I absorb thee and consume thee. Make me even more powerful!"

Cassie tried to fight, but her spirit was being pulled towards Melissa. She screamed as she was sucked into the other woman, her personality and consciousness unravelling as Melissa greedily sucked her up and consumed the concentrated evil.

Melissa screamed in pleasure, her tits swelling up even bigger and her body becoming hotter and stronger as she absorbed all of Cassies power, knowledge and memories.

In moments it was done. The ghost was no more and now only the fully evolved bitch Melissa remained.

"Mmmmh," she giggled stretching her slutty body with pride. "I love how it feels to be such a fucking bitch. Now I have ALL the power."

"Did you banish the ghost my love?" stuttered Dan.

"What ghost?" smirked Melissa fake innocently. "You must be imagining things. There was never any ghost and if there was - well she isn't a problem anymore."

Laughing cruelly Melissa strode off leaving her pussy whipped gas lit husband to tidy up the room.

She was the only bitch around here now and she wouldn't be manipulated by a ghost.

She was the gas-lighter now... and she loved it.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #ghost #influenced #personality change #evil bitch #good to evil

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txttletale · 8 months ago

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cassandra is the archetypal RTD Misogyny Moment. he's not as outrageously bad as moffat or chibnall so people don't notice it but there is a lot of stuff in RTD's first run that essentially amounts to "haha, stupid shallow vain women, always obsessed with their looks and bodies"

#tattletxt #doctor who

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hejee · 1 year ago

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Finally introducing my inquisitor Myrella Lavellan (she/they) 🫶

also some facts about her:

ex-clan member of the lavellan clan (got exiled for arson and attempted murder lol)

sore loser

not herald of andraste

that mage who’s surprisingly great as a spy

elfroot enthusiast

the elf that always has a surprise dagger hidden somewhere

a bit vain and prideful

is out there dreadwolf-hunting with varric and cassandra

always scares the fuck out of their keeper (her sister scolds her for it)

may or may not have tried blood magic before

the template for the first pic is here:

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #inquisitor lavellan #lavellan #dragon age oc #adding more lore here but she acts all silly and nice bc she really is but just don’t piss her off bc she’s vengeful and an ass underneath #she’s like vivienne and wynne but without the circle trauma and has a healthy support system lol #she’s mother #she really loves solas but she’s a bit sick in the head #she’s like a villain stuck in a heroic role #if she has a leitmotif it probably sounds like ludwig the holy blade

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eleni-cherie · 5 months ago

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a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - epilogue

"you're afraid I won't wait."

"I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

age 30 // attending physician

6th June

Havana, Cuba

The day Taehyung walked away, Cassandra didn't only lose the only man she'd ever loved but also her best friend.

A lifetime without him seemed empty and pointless and she was still mad at him for putting her through this misery.

However, she couldn't hate him, even if she wanted to. He hadn't done anything wrong after all, neither one of them had. What he'd done, he'd done out of love, to keep her far away from the danger lurking around every corner he took.

No. She'd never be able hating him because in the end, he'd never broken her heart. He had just stolen and run away with it.

And it still hurt.

The first first days, weeks, months after the break-up were characterised by denial. She was used to extended periods between seeing him again after all. Even the fact texts and calls had stopped, couldn't change that. Only when postcards had stopped coming as well, it'd finally downed to her.

Of course, in reality she'd already known it long before that, from the very first moment he'd left. She could see it in his eyes. He'd meant it back then, every single word. He wouldn't come back.

And yet, denial kept her from accepting it earlier. Kept her from even admitting or acknowledging it. Denial had her bargaining, believing that, even if he'd meant it, he'd surely change his mind eventually. That he'd certainly regret it. Denial gave her false hope.

When months passed without any new postcard, however, that was when she'd finally let herself admit defeat. When the denial couldn't hold up anymore. When the bargaining ended up in vain.

And instead, a phase of upsetness and depression, in constant pendulation, entered. A permanent restlessness accompanying her from that day on, knowing she'd never be able finding what they'd shared with someone else.

Until she'd finally accepted it and got accustomed to never seeing him again.

The tiny hope she'd once held, long stored back in a box and buried by then. Only the necklaces remained as a remnant of the past, not ready to give them away. One day maybe, but not yet.

However, just because she had managed accepting it, it didn't mean everything was back to normal for her.

Passing by their old places, she couldn't help but always see the ghost of them together there, everything turning dull. Unable to pass by Casa Batlló anymore without aching at the memory of their sunsets, the beach without remembering New Year's Eve, without seeing the 'magic fountain' and remembering his birthday present or the art museum above it where he'd clumsily confessed to her later.

Not even being able staying too long in her own apartment, constantly getting reminded of their first kiss or the countless nights they had spent there laughing, crying, fooling around and loving each other.

Her once dream city had turned blue and gray.

She simply couldn't bear staying in Barcelona anymore after completing her medical training last year, deciding to realise her once silly idea of revisiting the place of her childhood memories for her specialisation training instead.

A place with no attachment to him. Far away from everything and everyone.

She was essentially running away - or at least tried to. Although she knew she'd never be able to fully run away from it all, carrying him with her anywhere she went.

Perhaps there was also an underlying irony in the fact she'd chosen emergency medicine as her specialisation out of all medical fields. Perhaps it was evidence for the residual hold the artful marksman with the cheeky grin and the warm eyes still had on her and probably always would.

Over a year had already passed by now ever since Taehyung had left and interpol showing up hours later, questioning her about the boatyard. Over a year and she still caught herself falling into her memories every once in a while. Still couldn't stop becoming sorrowful whenever she did and plunging into work or her films for distraction.

She felt like a fool, considering a year should've been enough time to get over someone, something she'd used to do in a day or two.

At least she had stopped looking for him in other men a long time ago. Unintentionally comparing anyone she'd crossed paths with him at first, a fatuous and unhealthy habit which thankfully had subdued by now. Not that she even wanted or tried to find anyone to replace him. It'd be impossible, but also the mere thought of any men made her shudder.

No, she didn't even feel like glancing at anyone, much less date anyone. Her busy work schedules and introverted personality were a true blessing after all, making avoiding them easier.

So there she was now in Havana, the capital of Cuba and place of one of her earliest childhood memories.

It was the beginning of summer, although high temperatures had been constant for weeks. But it was nothing she couldn't handle and otherwise she enjoyed her life there so far. She wouldn't have the right to complain anyway, Havana being her chosen getaway after all.

Cassandra opened the door to her apartment in the first floor, the coolness inside a much needed contrast to the warm afternoon outside. Her aparatment was a bit bigger than her old one, but still decorated in a similar fashion. She couldn't get rid of her beloved posters, plants or plushies after all.

Her backpack sliding from her arms to the floor with a thud as soon as she pressed the door shut behind her.

A five-hour-long seminar sounded more painful than it really was, but perhaps she'd simply got used to this, who knew. Numbness to certain things was one of the requirements for this kind of profession, which she had almost mastered by now - finally.

With a dragged sigh, she slipped out of her disgustingly warm sneakers, although she was accustomed to such temperatures, they still took a tall on her. First she poured herself a much needed glass of water. Gulping it down in one go before changing into more comfortable clothes and preparing something to eat.

When the food was ready, she settled in front of her tv to continue watching a crime comedy she'd started awhile ago.

Old habits died hard after all.

The second half of the episode was reached when Cassandra noticed her eyes growing heavy, the tiredness of the day and the food making her drowsy. Eventually fluttering shut, causing her to almost miss the anxious knocking on her front door.

First she dismissed it as a neighbour's hammering, but when she paused the episode to figure out which one it was, she realised the noise was coming from her door. And she tensed up, staring at it with wide eyes.

Wonder mixed with an odd feeling of déjà-vu crept up on her as she slowly went to answer it. Assuming it was just irritation causing her trembling hands as she grabbed the door handle, her knuckles turning white when pressing it down and opening the door.

It felt like a sick joke of the universe first. Then she feared her mind was only playing tricks on her, projecting a memory of him. But it couldn't be a memory. He looked different.

Not because of the beaten up posture and the torn clothes - she had seen him way worse. It wasn't even the shorter mop of waves, tousled and sticking out at some ends, or his broader frame.

No. It was the distress written all over his gentle features, a mild sunburn tainting them in a pinkish shade, that told her something had to be severely wrong for him to stand again in front of her door, more than one year later.

And her initial excitement sunk.

"Cas -" Taehyung tried catching his breath and propped a toned arm against the doorframe. It was evident that he had been running. "I know I have no right, but Jimin - he - he needs you."

At the mention of his friend's name and the way he choked it out, she sensed her initial fear being correct. Something was terribly wrong.

Any lingering feelings and unsolved regrets got swept aside in that moment. Her ego and tiredness long forgotten, instead instincts from years of medical training kicked in. And she immediatelly rushed to the bathroom.

Perplexed at her sudden move, he wanted to call after her when she returned seconds later with a familiar object in her hands. The blue medical kit. She held it firmly in one hand while slipping back into her sneakers with the help of the other.

"Take me to him."

Taehyung smiled softly, not even surprised by the determination in her voice. She hadn't changed at all, she was still the same.

He nodded then, wordlessly grasping her free hand in his and Cassandra let him pull her downstairs to his waiting car.

THE END

»»»

hope you enjoyed this prequel! it got longer than expected haha

if you wanna know how Tae x Cas's story continues, make sure to read the main story "among thieves" and the sequel "a thief's end" ;)

💜check out the whole "thieves collection" series or my main bts masterlist for other members' stories in this universe or in general💜

Don't forget to like, comment & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)

taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame

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flowerandblood · 1 year ago

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The Vanity and Variability (2)

[ Jane Austen • Aemond x Baratheon • female ]

[ warnings: sexual tension, angst, mention of trauma, violence ]

[ description: Despite coming from a family with royal blood, Aemond is forced because of his brother’s debts to choose one of the daughters of the famously wealthy general, Borros Baratheon, as his wife to save his family from bankruptcy. When he arrives to make his choice he is distraught and discouraged, made all the more so by watching from the sidelines his youngest daughter, who seems more intrigued by his dog than her possible future husband. Slow burn, sexual tension, regency and Jane Austen prose vibe, vain, self-righteous Aemond. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in regency times (1805-1815). The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Aemond & Miss Baratheon & VhagarMoodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When their father received a letter of marriage proposal from Otto Hightower he was furious. He thought it would be humiliating for him to give any of his daughters away to a proud, vain bankrupt who would choose any of them by grace, just for their vast fortune.

He decided to create a small domestic gathering and called her, all her sisters and their brother into their living room.

They sat at the table listening with attention and surprise to what he had to say to them. Their father was met with a completely different reaction than he had expected.

"Please, father, he is almost like a prince. I would live in a palace!" Exclaimed Maris, already imagining in her mind how she would walk through the grand chambers of their gigantic mansion located in London.

"The Targaryens are one of the most important names in our country, it would bring great honour to our family. Your grandson would have royal blood, father. What harm would it do for us to have him come here to determine if we would like him?" Cassandra asked, and their father could not find the right answer to this question, so he finally gave in, recognising that it was nothing official for now.

He replied to Mr Hightower that his grandson could come to his estate to get acquainted with his daughters under his watchful eye to decide if they liked each other.

She had no idea what she thought of the arrival of someone like him; her sisters lived only for his person, counting down the days until his arrival.

One evening they sat all together in their nightgowns in Cassandra's room, which she was entitled to as the eldest daughter and was the largest, talking animatedly. It was good custom for it to be the eldest daughter who was married first, and it was clear that she was concerned about what Mr Targaryen would think of them.

"When he arrives here, we must all behave with decorum and maintain good manners. Do you hear me?" She directed her words at her and she swallowed quietly, nodding and lowered her gaze, fiddling with the fabric of her chemise.

She was the youngest of them, standing next to them looking less like a real, full woman and more like a child in her eyes.

Although the shape of her breasts and hips were outlined under her chemise, she didn't look as serious as they did, she still tied her long hair up with a ribbon at the back of her head instead of forming it into an exquisite bun like they did.

She tried once to style her hair in such a bun, but found that it completely didn't suit her. She looked as if she was just trying to disguise herself as a grown-up woman, a wife and mother, which she was not, and she gave up sadly, telling her maid to let her hair down again.

She had never thought about marriage or love before, being far in line behind her sisters, but one day she realised that since it was not agreed that Mr Targaryen would marry Cassandra and that he could choose any of them, he could choose her too.

The thought terrified her.

"But what will I do if he chooses me?" She asked one day on a walk, walking with them leisurely into town to see the new hats in the shops, and Floris laughed out loud at her words.

"Don't bother, you look like a child and you're unkempt. You have nothing to worry about." She said lightly, and she felt burning tears of humiliation under her eyelids, slowing down and following them completely behind.

Although she did not want a husband at all, it hurt her cruelly that they thought he would despise her not only as a possible future spouse, but as a person in general.

She confided her worries to her father, standing before him and weeping, struggling to put her distress into words, and he looked at her with paternal concern, running his hand over her chin. When she had finished speaking he stood up and walked over to her, catching her soft cheeks in his large, rough hands.

"My dearest, why do you need the attention of someone like him? A man who only wants your wealth, who I am sure will not respect or value you? I hope that after his visit your sisters will change their minds and no marriage will take place, and you will pay no attention to him at all when he arrives here. Even if he wanted you for a wife, I would never give you up to him for the devouring of those vultures of London with only vanity and volatility in their hearts." He murmured lowly and leaned down, kissing her forehead, and she felt an immense sense of relief.

Her father, as well as her brother, were always able to comfort her.

When the day of Mr Targaryen's arrival came, her sisters had been dressing up all day, shouting and running around the house, accusing each other of stealing jewellery or dresses, losing something every step and crying. She watched this with amusement, dressed in her everyday summer gown, looking calmly out of the window, thinking only that this commotion did not concern her.

She had stopped feeling bad about the thought, but she was curious to see what kind of man he would be.

When his carriage finally arrived outside their manor house everyone, according to good manners, went out to meet him with their father in the lead. When the carriage door opened a large, beautiful white dog, looking like a fox, suddenly jumped out of it.

She thought it was love at first sight.

She immediately ran towards her despite her father's calls, and the animal jumped on her, putting its dirty paws on her shoulders, licking her face. She laughed, embracing her around her waist, dishevelled by how sweet this dog was.

When she finally jumped down she stroked her soft fur and raised her head, noticing the man looking at her out of the corner of his eye, pale, his lips tightened into a thin line expressing impatience and embarrassment, his gaze piercing, cool and uncomfortable, the black ribbon bow tying his almost white hair into a long ponytail.

He pulled off his cylinder, tucked it under his arm and it was only then that she noticed his famous black eye patch, the long scar stretching across the entire left side of his face.

She thought that, contrary to what she had imagined, he was not scary, but, according to her father's words, he seemed to her infinitely vain and distraught at having to be here, even though they were doing his family a favour.

She decided not to think about him and leave the conversation with him to her sisters, leaving all her attention and love to his dog, whose name, as it turned out, was Vhagar.

Taking advantage of her owner's absence, she decided to lock herself in her room with her along with a piece of roast on a plate and practice tricks with her.

"Sit." She said lowly, and Vhagar immediately sat down, looking greedily at the piece of meat she had in her hand. She handed it to her as soon as she followed her command, and she devoured it greedily, licking herself with a loud click.

She also appeared to be able to lie down and stand still on command, as well as running up to her leg.

"Give me your paw." She said, extending her hand to her, and she sat up, wagging her tail, looking with big eyes at the next piece of meat she was holding, panting heavily.

She sat down next to her on the floor, still holding her outstretched hand in front of her.

"Give me your paw." She repeated, and she began to squirm and bark, not understanding what was expected of her, what she had to do to be able to eat this delicious piece of chicken.

She took her paw in her hand and shook it, showing her what she was supposed to do, then placed a piece of meat in front of her, which she immediately swallowed.

"Good doggy." She praised her and stroked her, taking another piece from her plate, again extending her hand to her.

"Give me your paw." She said softly, Vhagar twisted in her place and barked. She repeated the command and she scratched her thigh with her paw, checking to see if this was the movement she had in mind.

"Good doggy! Such a good doggy!" She said happily, letting her eat another piece of meat, stroking her fur, praising her wisdom.

They both jumped when she heard a quiet knock on her door. She opened it and was startled to see the silhouette of their guest, looking down at her as if he was about to kill her, Vhagar threw herself at him cheerfully, longing for her owner.

"Vhagar! Calm down! Sit." He commanded her coolly, clearly frustrated, and she pressed her lips together, deciding that she would share the rather pleasant news that his dog was able to perform a new activity thanks to her efforts.

"I was just teaching her a new trick." She whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping family members and was already about to explain to him what the trick was specifically about when he spoke directly to her, looking at her disapprovingly.

"Don't come near my dog again." He hissed and whistled at Vhagar, motioning towards his room.

She pressed her lips together, feeling a sting in her heart at his unpleasant and cold words, but thought she might have expected it. She saw to her surprise, however, that his dog turned towards her every once in a while, standing and apparently considering whether she felt like continuing to play with her instead of going to sleep.

Despite her owner's efforts, she refused to budge and jumped up when he suddenly grabbed her violently by the fur on her neck, pulling her forcibly towards his room, as if he had completely lost his temper, furious, she pulled in the air loudly and squealed in despair at the sight, hearing her whine full of pain and terror.

"− no! − please! − wait −" She called out pleadingly, and suddenly, as if he realised what he was doing he looked at her surprised and let go of Vhagar, who immediately ran away from him, hiding back in her room. She looked at his face and was surprised to find that he was broken, she had a feeling that he was about to cry.

What was the matter with him?

She swallowed loudly, wanting to quickly alleviate the situation she ran into her room and picked up a piece of meat, shoving it under Vhagar's nose. She immediately followed her, curious, and they both left the room, but when she saw her owner standing in the same place she panicked and lowered her tail, fearing that he would do the same to her as he had a moment ago.

She approached his stony figure, she had the impression that he had completely frozen absorbed in his own agony at the thought that his dog would now hate him.

"Hand it to her and call her out, just don't get angry." She whispered to him pleadingly, handing him the meat she held between her fingers. They both crouched down, looking at Vhagar, who watched them with lowered ears, alert. He held out his hand to her, she could see that his fingers were trembling.

"− come, Vhagar − I'm sorry − it's all right −" He whispered with difficulty, brokenly, no longer resembling at all the man she had seen getting out of the carriage. He seemed suddenly human to her, full of some cruel contradiction she could not comprehend. She felt the pain pouring out of him, the fear of rejection, and involuntarily felt sympathy.

She realised that he had probably been forced to come here, exposed as if in a market to be watched and judged by her sisters, all the time in the limelight, having to make a choice even though they, in his eyes, were not worthy of him in status.

She thought he had no right to feel superior to them, coming here only for their fortune, but she couldn't help seeing him now as just an ordinary man, terrified by the vision that his beloved pup would be afraid of him.

Vhagar approached him slowly and hesitantly took from his hand what he had on it. She saw his fingers stroke her white fur with tenderness and gentleness, and then her head snuggled against his chest, his face pressed against hers expressing something like relief, his lips tightened, his eyes red.

She smiled at the sight, feeling at the same time remorseful at the fact that all this had happened because of her, because she hadn't asked his permission if he would mind if she played with his dog.

"− I'm so sorry −" She whispered softly and he looked at her, she noticed with surprise that his gaze was not cold and chilly. It was focused, uncertain, filled with feeling, suffering and loneliness, depth and emptiness at the same time.

He did not answer.

She stood up and called out quietly to Vhagar, heading for his room, and she immediately moved to follow her. She wanted to lead her to his bedroom and force her to stay there to end this whole unpleasant situation.

She sat down on the floor and reached out to her. She immediately laid down next to her and put her paw on her thigh as she taught her. She smiled and stroked her soft fur, then lifted her gaze and saw that he was standing over them, looking at them as if they were some amazing creatures, in his eyes surprise and shock that she dared to enter his room in the middle of the night in just her nightgown.

The realisation of this gaffe hit her with redoubled force and she stood up quickly, explaining that she only wanted Vhagar to go in there after her, leaving quickly and closing the door behind her, running to her room and sighing heavily, feeling her heart pounding fast.

She thought that this was not a good start to their acquaintance and that he probably hated her for sure now.

However, she decided that since he wouldn't consider her anyway it didn't matter, she was more worried that by her behaviour he would have a bad opinion of her sisters, and she knew how Cassandra cared about this marriage.

She was the eldest and felt time was slipping through her fingers, many men had asked for her hand because of her father's wealth, but they were too old for her or unpleasant to look at.

It appeared that she might have been too fussy, and now someone from a royal background almost their own age had come to their house and it seemed the perfect opportunity for her.

She didn't want to ruin her happiness.

However, as always, Floris was unable to restrain her nosiness even at breakfast, pestering her with questions and accusations that she did not have the strength to answer. She felt Mr Targaryen's eye on her, and if she didn't know him she would have thought she saw a hint of sympathy in his gaze.

"My dear, apologise to Mr Targaryen for your behaviour and for taking his dog for yourself." Her father finally said to her, and she swallowed loudly, lifting her gaze to him.

She could see that he was looking at her uncertainly, terrified of what she might say, of what she had seen, which could reflect badly on his reputation.

"I am deeply sorry for my behaviour and all the unpleasantness that came with it." She choked out with difficulty what she really wanted to say to him and saw that he swallowed loudly, lowering his eyes and hummed under his breath as if in thought, running his fingertips over the table top.

"I also apologise, miss Baratheon." He said lowly, startling her completely, and as he lifted his determined, burning gaze to her she understood that he wanted to tell her that he was ashamed of his behaviour.

She felt a warmth in her heart at the thought that he had decided to apologise to her even though the fault lay with her.

She heard Floris snort at his words, displeased that he had not rebuked her.

"Mr Targaryen, do not apologise to her. She is like an animal herself." She said with amusement, looking her straight in the eye, and she felt humiliation spilling over her body, her cheeks red.

She swallowed hard, breathing unevenly, lowering her gaze, repeating to herself that she couldn't make a scene and start crying in front of him, that Cassandra would reprimand her again, saying she was acting like a child.

She felt she was losing to her own distress and got up at last, apologising quietly and left quickly, running out into the courtyard. She heard quick footsteps behind her a moment later and didn't even have to turn around to know it was Royce.

"Wait." He called out to her and she stopped, looking at him with parted, trembling lips, tears streaming involuntarily down her red face. Royce put his arm around her waist and she embraced his as they moved ahead, looking forward, saying nothing.

"Don't mind her. She can't bear the thought of not living in a grand palace. Unfortunately, I can't say she's the smartest of my sisters." He said amused, and she burst out laughing through her tears, hugging him, as usual feeling relieved in his company.

"What was he apologising to you for?" He asked after a moment, and she grunted quietly, unsure if she should talk about it.

"He was angry that I locked myself in my room with his dog. But he was right. That's all." She said briefly, figuring she would skip the details, not wanting to put him in a bad light in front of her brother, recognising that she had known him too briefly to judge him so quickly.

Royce already wanted to go home, but she said she wanted to continue her journey and walk to the lake to calm down completely. She loved listening to the quiet sound of the water sitting by the shore and had no desire to look at Floris for the next few hours.

So she moved ahead alone, taking comfort from the beautiful summer views all around her, the fields surrounding her green and full of flowers, the air clean and crisp.

She shuddered when she suddenly heard a loud barking and saw Vhagar running quickly towards her. The dog pounced on her and started licking her face, and she laughed out loud.

"What are you doing so far from home?" She asked, stroking her snout as she fell back onto her four paws, and it was only when she looked around that she noticed Mr Targaryen's silhouette sitting on the shore, his impenetrable gaze directed towards her.

For a moment she considered returning home, but realised she didn't want to go back there. Even more so if he wasn't there now, her sisters would lash out at her with questions and accusations, keeping at least a hint of civility in his presence.

Only Ellyn was being nice to her, Cassandra tried to fight the feelings warring within her, but she could see the frustration on her face.

No matter how hard she tried to stay away from him, she kept running right into him.

She thought that maybe if they had her attitude they would experience the same thing.

She sighed heavily and started walking towards him, recognising that it wasn't just his shore, that she was the first to discover this place and had as much right to sit there as he did.

She sat down beside him on the sand, a safe distance away, which Vhagar took immediate advantage of to lie down between them, laying her head on her thighs.

She was sure he would get up and go somewhere else, discouraged by her presence, he, however, seemed to make nothing of it, sunk in his own thoughts. She closed her eyes and began to listen to the sounds of the wind and water, the pleasant breeze wrapped around her face. She felt sleepy.

She opened her eyes after a few minutes, looking around as if half asleep, and saw to her surprise that Mr Targaryen had fallen asleep beside her, his head settled on his shoulder, his face unusually gentle and calm.

She thought he needed a moment of rest and solitude too, and smiled at the thought.

With some strange warmth in her heart, she lay down next to Vhagar and wrapped her arms around her, wanting to fall asleep next to them.

After they had returned to her mansion, after what he had said when Floris had assaulted her, she herself was not sure what she thought of him.

On the one hand, she felt grateful because he had stood up for her, refuting any rumours or conjecture about the nature of their walk, but on the other hand, his words were so cruel and insolent that she thought he would never have referred to a woman of his status in such a way, that he was showing how much he despised them, that he did not regard them as equals.

The next day they were all due to go to church, and as it was literally a five-minute walk from their property, they decided to go there on foot.

She wore her bonnet on her head, so she tied her hair up in a bun like her sisters to make the whole thing look right, the colour of her headdress warm cream, just like her dress.

She did not know if the form of the walk made Mr Targaryen happy or not, his expression remained invariably indifferent. He walked at the front with her father and Royce, Royce telling him something with amusement and he seemed to be partially listening to him.

Further along walked Cassandra, Maris and Floris, adding a word or two to their brother once in a while, and she walked at the back with Ellyn.

"Floris is very jealous." She told her quietly, clearly wanting to comfort her. "She teases each of us behind closed doors and says very nasty things."

She did not feel surprised by what she heard. Floris always cried when her father refused her, loving to point out mistakes to everyone but herself.

She thought that she had felt overlooked all her life and was now trying to make up for it by getting everyone's attention, the higher-ranking person it was, the better.

It wasn't long before they arrived at a beautiful little brick church surrounded by a stone wall and orchard. They went inside, their father greeting everyone, the presence of Mr Targaryen sparked great interest and everyone wanted to shake his hand.

She could see the tension on his face, the enormity of his discomfort in the presence of so many strangers, and she thought he was in constant pain, forced to be polite and courteous when he felt like running away.

One by one, they all began to sit down in the pew where their family always sat, but when she wished to take her place at the end, Floris placed her hand on the seat.

"This seat is for Mr Targaryen. After all, we won't let him sit at the back." She said lightly, and she felt a tightening in her throat, tears of humiliation filling her eyes once more.

"There's enough room for everyone." She whispered, her father leaning over, looking at her concerned, not understanding why she and Mr Targaryen were not yet seated.

"There isn't."

She looked at her with red eyes, feeling her clenched lips tremble, but there was not a trace of hesitation or sympathy on her sister's face.

So she turned back, swallowing loudly, sitting down in the empty bench behind them, her father turning his head after her, startled.

"What are you doing?"

She did not answer him, for she looked shocked sideways when she saw that Mr Targaryen had stepped into her pew following her, placing his cylinder on his free side, undoing one button from his tailcoat, sitting down beside her with his legs crossed.

Floris turned towards him, apparently wanting to announce to him that there was a place for him on their bench, but before she could open to say anything, a single, cold sentence left his lips.

"Please attend to your prayers, Miss Baratheon."

Floris turned pale and pressed her lips together, turning away, pretending nothing had happened. She looked at him sideways and swallowed loudly as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, frustrated.

"Can't you concentrate on prayer in the house of God either, Miss Baratheon?" He growled and she shook her head, pulling out her prayer book from her small pouch hanging on her hand, not daring to turn her gaze to him for the entire liturgy.

Despite her best efforts, she couldn't concentrate on what Pastor Thomson was saying, thinking only of the fact that he had given up the seat he was entitled to by his status and sat next to her.

She thought he did this because he wanted to avoid her sisters, because after their nap at the lake he knew she would not torment him. That he sat next to her because he wanted to show Floris again what he thought of her.

She figured that perhaps he wanted to comfort her too, that he didn't want her to sit alone away from her family, rejected and abandoned.

The last thought filled her heart with gratitude and warmth and she found herself thinking that he was a more complicated man than she had originally assumed.

As they stood up to receive the eucharist, Mr Targaryen let her go ahead and, squeezing between him and the pew, she involuntarily brushed against his body and heard him quietly gasp through his nose, all tense.

She knew he was standing behind her in line, she could hear his breathing behind her, she could feel his gaze on her. This was a test, he wanted to see if she would get distracted again, if she would think about him, if she would end up pestering him like her sisters.

She thought he didn't deserve her treating him so objectively.

She preferred to think of herself as his friend who, understanding his needs, would not impose on him, allowing him to remain comfortable in her presence.

She didn't look at him as she passed him in line or as she sat back in the pew and they both listened to the psalms, waiting for everyone to take communion.

She swallowed loudly as she felt him spread his knees, sitting down more comfortably, his leg rubbing against hers and pressed to her barely perceptibly.

She felt a pleasant shudder and swallowed loudly, running her fingers over the book lying on her thighs, but she didn't dare to look at him, not wanting to give him satisfaction.

She gasped, her heart starting to pound like mad as he righted himself on the seat and grunted, leaning back with his shoulders against the rest of the bench, his knee pressed almost painfully hard against her leg now.

She felt herself breathing through her mouth, droplets of sweat running down her neck, her fingers tightening on her prayer book.

She felt him looking at her.

She felt his breath directed towards her, enveloping her face.

She glanced at his hand lying on his knee pressed against hers, his pointing finger tapping restlessly against the material of his trousers, as if impatient.

What did he want?

Why was he doing this, playing with her, putting her in this position?

She drew in the air in horror when his hand suddenly pulled away from his knee and moved over her thighs towards her fingers, as if he wanted to grab them.

She clutched her book, terrified, and heard him hum under his breath as he grabbed her prayer book, sliding it out of her hands in a slow movement.

She felt her whole body quiver, her fingers trembling as they lay numbly on her lap.

She knew he had seen it.

Was he deriving some kind of dark satisfaction from it?

She watched out of the corner of her eye as he looked through her prayer book page by page, even though he had his own lying on the backrest in front of him.

Hers was older, had belonged to her mother, was her only memento of her after her death, and she felt uneasy seeing it in the hands of someone else.

"Please, sir, give it back to me." She whispered quietly and heard his murmur expressing surprise or displeasure.

"What harm am I doing? I am merely looking at it, Miss Baratheon." He hummed low, licking his finger and turning the page, something about the gesture seemed inappropriate, ungodly to her and she thought he had done it on purpose.

"Please. This is my only memento of my mother." She mumbled helplessly and felt him suddenly freeze.

She didn't look at him but she could feel the atmosphere of discomfort between them, his knee pulled away from hers as he grunted, swallowing loudly, pointing her book towards her, holding it in his hand.

She reached for it with a trembling hand, and their fingers involuntarily touched, she had the feeling that his thumb had purposely run over her skin, as if in a gesture of apology, of comfort that made her want to cry, she felt goosebumps on her cheeks.

She put her prayer book back on her thighs, clasping her trembling hands on them, breathing hard, feeling as if he was mocking her, taking pleasure and satisfaction in what he could do to her, in how naïve she was.

She felt as, despite her mind's tremendous efforts, tear after tear began to run down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly with her thumb, but they kept flying.

She saw his hand, which again laid stretched across his knee clenched into a fist, his fingers moving restlessly.

He knew she was crying because of him.

When the liturgy ended she stood up first and headed quickly for the door, not looking at him or her family.

When she turned into the field corner and knew no one could see her anymore she burst out into a loud sob, tired of her sisters, tired of this strange, variable men who played with her, who would never look at her or her family as equals.

She drew in a loud breath when she heard quick footsteps behind her and, thinking it was Royce, turned hopefully behind her. She turned pale and parted her lips with a sound of mournful despair when she saw him, breathing loudly, his hair in partial disarray, slipping out of its ribbon.

"Miss Baratheon. Forgive me." He mumbled, not believing himself that these words were coming out of his mouth, clearly surprised and ashamed of his own behaviour. "I have no idea what has gotten into me."

They stood before each other in silence, looking at one another with wide eyes, she struggled to calm her breathing, her trembling lips slightly parted in disbelief.

"I don't understand you, sir. I try, but I don't. You are cruel. You humiliate me and my sisters knowing that we do not stand in a position to oppose you. I would like to be your friend, but I am not sure you could be a friend to anyone, let alone a person of such low position as myself." She almost wailed, shaking her head, looking at him with anguish, something flashed across his face, his brow furrowed, his lips tightened, he swallowed loudly, her words hitting something deep inside him.

She did not give him a chance to reply. She turned her back on him, seeing her family approaching, and set off towards her mansion, thinking with despair that she already felt sorry for whichever of her sisters this man would choose as his wife.

______

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