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rufflesandbows · 2 years ago

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Made of Fire

Aemond X Reader (Rhaenyra Daughter)

Promises had been made. Maybe as children, but it would appear Aemond has not forgotten them. Not through the passage of time and not through the pain and the hate. The feud is coming to its sharp edge, and now he means to fulfil that promise. Claiming it is for duty and devotion, both of which you doubt.

Warnings: Incest, kidnapping, non/dub-con touching and heavy kissing Word Count: 2400 (Part 2/Final)

The sharp whip of winds chilled your cheeks and rushed past your ears. Most of your body was ice cold, except your back and around your waist, a firm grip keeping you upright. Your hips ached a little, and the world seemed to waver lightly, as if on calm waters. To rub your face, you attempted to lift your hands only to feel a harsh yank around your wrists. Your head snapped up, looking at your hands and in the night you could make out ropes binding you. In a panic you pulled again when a dragons deep rumble startled you, feeling the vibrations through your legs.

You were flying high in the full moon sky, tied to a dragon. In a gasp your heart jumped up your throat and you pressed back at the warm wall behind you, pulling on the ropes.

A sly shush came beside your ear. “Easy now.” You recognized that voice, a trembling sigh came from you. Gods above, just what did Aemond think he was doing!? “I had a difficult time convincing Vhagar to let you up here. She remembers what your brother did to me.”

The great dragon tilted her head to look behind herself, hearing her name, showing all those jagged teeth to the moonlight with a growl. It took a moment for you to catch your bearings, taking in the clouds against a twinkling sky. The great wings gave slow but heavy beats you could feel pulse through your body. You began to tremble all over, the fast winds, the darkness below, this was the first time you’d ever ridden a dragon. The egg that never hatched still sitting on your shelf back at Dragonstone. “Aemond. Think this through-”

Aemond pulled his face into your neck, taking a deep breath in and sending you on high alert. His arm didn’t tighten on you, he caressed you. Running his touch up and down your side. Your breath hitched, nervously shifting on the saddle. “It is as you said. You and I should have been wed ages ago.”

Quite the devoted claim. If only he meant it. You anxiously tried twisting your hands free of the ropes. “We should of been; to unite our families and put the petty feud behind us. I’m not a fool. I know you care nothing for me. You’re only taking me to upset my brothers.”

“Is that what you think?” He chuckled. In frustration you tugged the rope and Vhagar gave a lurch. She growled and shivered, the saddle swaying as if she might toss you both off. You cried out and gripped the bone of the saddle, panting hard with panic. Aemond however remained relaxed, adjusting the reins in his one hand and soothing his beast. “She knows you’re trying to escape. It would be in both our best interest if you stopped fighting. Besides, where will you go? You shove me off she won’t follow your command. She’ll kill you.”

“Where do you intend to take me?” All the resolution in your voice was gone, still frightened from your near plummet to the ground. “What do you plan to do?”

If he wanted to take your virtue, leave you humiliated he didn’t have to take advantage of your use of poppy milk to steal you away on dragonback.

“We’re going far from both our families. To Harrenhal, where we will wed as we should have been long ago.”

It didn’t make any sense. His words were plain but they couldn’t be simple. Why now? What did it matter to him when he’d done nothing but mock you and your brothers at dinner? You couldn’t help but think the worst. That he had something truly horrific waiting for you. That he meant to keep you as his plaything and break your body and mind. Even now his hand on your hip was roaming your body. Crossing your stomach, running up your chest, grabbing your breast through the thin night gown and placing a kiss on your jaw. He wouldn't stand less than five feet from you during the visit to Kings Landing, where was this coming from? The wind whipped away your tears before they could fall. “And then what?”

“We’ll be married. You will live with me. You will bear my children.”

And what else? What was he not telling you? “Aemond, I don’t understand-”

He laughed, his breath hot on your neck, his hand dropping back down to your hip, holding you steady against his lap. “Do you desire me no longer? Do you not remember all our long talks at the library? Our kiss under the weirwood?” His voice dropped low into a tease. “Do you think I didn’t catch you watching me train this morning, or sneak glimpses at the dinner table?”

You remembered all those events clearly. They all meant nothing in the wake of a kidnapping. With a thick swallow down a dry throat, you admitted, “I’m frightened.”

He gave pause before asking softly, “You think I’d hurt you?”

“I don’t know.” You gestured to the ropes around your wrists, keeping you tied to a beast that hated you. Looking into his face brought you no clear answers, only that whatever was in his mind was felt intensely. You felt his hand begin to move again, raising up to curl around your shoulder, to softly touch your cheek, to keep your eyes on him.

“When I take you to bed, you will know.”

You took back, parting your lips to speak when his mouth crashed to yours. Aemond buried you in his heat, pressing into you, fingers digging into your jaw to keep you locked to him as he delved further. You could taste a spiced sweetness on his tongue as it ran along yours. Could feel his chest rumble at your back as Vhagar’s did beneath your legs. Heat jumped down your spine, awakening your whole body to the winds chill. Your knees rose up on the saddle, trying to not pull on the ropes as he had his way with you. You squirmed and whimpered, helpless against his eager exploration.

When Aemond finally released you, you were both left gasping. You could feel his arousal against your backside, and unfortunately, the wind made you very aware of the dampness beneath yourself. Of the blood thrumming with life through you. You licked your lips, tasting one last time that spiced sweetness, gulping it down. His free arm wrapped around you again, tightly pressing you against his chest, growling in satisfaction.

He whipped the reins, Vhagar weaving up before diving lower. You could see the lake of the Gods Eye glittering, shocking you that you could see all sides of the great lake from so high up. As Vhagar drew closer, she began to pick up speed, descending faster and faster, your stomach crawling up your throat. You held onto the saddle for dear life, feeling yourself lift without the proper harness reserved for Aemond.

At a certain level Vhagar beat her wings and slowed, lowering herself into an open field a short distance from Harrenhal. Quickly the old dragon settled, but she had her head tilted just lightly, watching you and Aemond.

“Are you ready?” Aemond asked as you were still trying to catch your breath.

As you spoke, your voice was shivering. “Surely there isn’t a Maestor waiting at this hour.”

Aemond scoffed, “No. We’ll be staying at Harrenhal for the night and wed in the morning. That is, if you cooperate.”

Cooperate. Meaning you didn’t make a fuss about being kidnapped. That you play along as a woman madly in love with the prince, ready to take him to husband, take him to bed. The pregnant pause of your hesitation agitated Vhagar, her impatient roar amusing Aemond. You had tensed and he gave you what was supposed to be a comforting squeeze. “Hm? How about it, beloved?”

Neither Aemond or Vhagar were giving you much choice. Worse yet was thinking how it would unite the two bloodlines once again. Something both your mother and his had been desperately avoiding. Was it then your duty to the Realm to quell the mounting tensions on the edge of destruction? What was the price you were willing to pay to make that happen? Letting out a slow sigh, you nodded, “Alright. I’ll play along.”

“I knew you’d see things my way.” He pulled a blade from his hip and sliced the rope, freeing your wrists. You felt Vhagar’s gaze the entire decent down her side. You didn’t know a dragon could hate so personally. When your bare feet touched the ground, you gave a small cry at how cold it was, looking down at the instant chill seeping into your joints.

“Here.” You didn’t know where he produced them from, but he handed you a pair of your slippers. Uneasy, you slipped them on and let him take your hand. Aemond kept you locked tight by his side as he led you to the looming silhouette of Harrenhal, the pale moon touching the melted stone of the towers.

When the gates came into view, it was Lord Larys himself who greeted you both with a small bow. “Prince and Princess, it is an honor to house you both here.”

He could see the state you were in. The nightgown, the trembling, the clear fear in your eyes, yet he smiled back when you said nothing.

Aemond asked, “The rooms are ready?”

You looked between them, feeling ever more trapped as Larys nodded, “Oh, everything is ready, as you requested. The wedding will be underway first thing in the morning.”

It was clear they were working together, that it was planned for longer than your visitation. That no one would be sending you help, not even if you screamed and cried. Aemond nodded, pulling you along deeper into the cursed fort. “I apologize that it won’t be a grand wedding befitting a prince and princess, but we don’t want to draw in too much attention before the union can be consummated.”

A flush of fear sapped all the heat from you, making you shiver. “Then why not do it now? Get it over with?”

Aemond looked at you, a softness in his gaze. “Because you deserve more than that.” Still, you couldn’t understand him. A soft curl of his lip came as he stopped in the hall, “You’re not a concubine, or a whore to me. You might doubt my intentions, but I do intend to make you my wife, and give you every respect as such. You’ll have a wedding, a proper wedding and a feast. And when we return home, our houses will be united, as is our duty.”

You shook your head, “Then why didn’t you ask me? Why take me against my will? Why mock my family if you intend to share in our name? If you think I am nothing more than a bastard?”

“I only mock your brothers to rile them, the truth of your parentage matters nothing to me.” In spite of your very serious questions, he leaned in with a growing smile. “And you did promise yourself to me, once.”

You were not amused. Aemond however was tickled as his chuckle bounced off the stone walls and he led you further in. He stopped before a door at the very end, opening it up for you and for the first time, let your hand go.

Timidly, you walked in, looking around the properly decorated room for a noble guest. Your eye fell on the bed and you stiffened, spinning around quickly to watch Aemond. He stayed by the door, a wicked grin playing on his lips and a glitter in his eye. “Don’t you worry, I am no scoundrel. I will wait properly for the consummation. When you are my wedded wife.”

The word consummation made your stomach drop, pooling low at your waist. When you didn’t respond, just clutched yourself as wild thoughts of what was to come invaded, Aemond stepped forward. His movements were gradual and assured. He reached up and cupped your cheek, running his thumb along the still chilled flesh. There was such a daze as he looked at you, his eye roaming every detail of your face. His gaze fell on your lips, lingering there a long while. You gulped with anticipation, thinking of that kiss mid flight. It was far from the first between you, but it had been years ago that you two practiced in secret, with all the flair of amateurs. The very last having been under the weirwood, giving a promise to one another that you were made for each other. That was before Driftmark.

Aemond moved forward and you flinched, but didn’t pull back. Your heart was racing wildly, your body growing hot with uncertainty and inaction. Looking into you, the air was heavy, his intense gaze boring into you. More slowly he closed the distance, his eye not leaving yours for a single second as his lips softly placed on yours.

It was at the touch of your lips that his eye rolled to a fluttering close. His grip tightened, locked you against him, Aemond nodding deeper into the kiss. A whimper slipped from you, your hands planting on his chest. He was burning under your touch, Aemond breaking the kiss only to swallow you up again. A gasp parting your lips and allowing him to taste you once again.

His hand dropped low on your back, crushing you flush against him. It was suffocating being between his hungry embrace. Your choked breathing turned into panting, fanning his mouth between his lavishing dive into you. Aemond moaned, nearly picking you up off the floor as he gripped you again, eager to have you hop onto his waist.

A loud wet smack parted you and you took the split second moment to chide him, “Aemond.”

His breath hitched, stopping himself. “You’re right. Of course.” His words were rough with quick rapid breaths. He licked his lips, as if starving for more of you, savoring what little he could get. Slowly, his body trembling, Aemond set you down and pulled his arms from you. There was a pink flush in his cheeks, his lips glistening. Swallowing thickly, he dipped his head and stepped backwards toward the door. “Sleep well.”

The door shut behind him, and a moment later you heard the lock turn on the outside.

___ Let me know if you enjoyed the read! ♡ Art by Daniel F. Gerhartz

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #my writing

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girlactionfigure · 2 months ago

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THURSDAY HERO: Shalom Yoran

Selim Sznycer, aka Shalom Yoran, was a Polish Jew who escaped the mass murder of all the Jews in his town, including his parents, and wanted to fight Nazis. However, when he tried to join a Russian resistance group, they rejected him for being Jewish, which led him to create his own militia of 200 Jews who hid in the forest and carried out acts of sabotage against the Nazi occupiers.

Selim Sznycer was born in Poland in 1925. After the Nazis invaded Warsaw, the Sznycer family fled to a different part of Poland, the town of Kurzeniec, occupied by the Soviets. But in 1941 the Germans invaded the Soviet Union. and despite their best efforts to escape the Nazis, Selim and his family found themselves living under Nazi occupation once again.

The Jews of Kurzeniec were forced into a squalid ghetto. Not far away was a Russian POW camp, where the prisoners were suffering from abuse, starvation and disease. Local Soviet partisans were forming militias to fight the German occupiers, and Selim heard about the nascent resistance movement from an escaped Russian POW.

The day before Yom Kippur in 1942, Nazi high command gave orders to “liquidate” the ghetto – meaning kill all the inhabitants. From a contact in the resistance, Selim learned of the horrific plan, and he and his brother were able to escape from the ghetto and hide in a nearby barn owned by Polish peasant, Ignalia Biruk, who took in the terrified Jewish boys at great risk to herself. From his hiding place, he heard the sounds of all the Jews in the ghetto being massacred, including his own parents. He later remembered his mother’s last words to him, “She told me, ‘Go fight… try to save yourselves, avenge our death and tell the world what happened.’ These are the words that guided me through that dark period, what gave me strength to fight, and what inspires me to share my story today.”

That winter, Selim, his brother and three friends hid in the Polish forest near the Sang river. They survived the brutal cold by building an underground bunker. A few kindly locals periodically gave them some food, but most of their provisions were stolen.

Selim wanted to fight the Nazis who had taken everything from him, and in 1943 he and his small group approached a Russian partisan unit, but they wouldn’t allow the five Jews to join because they had no weapons. Desperate to join the fight, Selim persisted, and finally the unit commander told him that if they returned to Kurzeniec and blew up the Nazi munitions factory, they would be allowed to join the resistance group. The Russians assumed the Jewish boys couldn’t possibly survive the dangerous mission, but they carried out the bombing successfully and returned to the forest, only to be told the real reason they were rejected: they were Jewish.

Undeterred, Selim wandered the forest in nearby Belarus looking for Jews who wanted to fight. He formed an all-Jewish resistance unit featuring 200 fighters. After the Germans were defeated at Stalingrad, Selim and his group harassed and sabotaged the retreating German soldiers. They blew up bridges and railroad supply lines. In 1944, Belarus was liberated by the Soviets, and Selim and the other Jewish resistance fighters went from the firing pan to the fire: they were drafted into the Red Army, where they were viciously persecuted for being Jewish, enduring beatings and near-starvation. Selim managed to escape and flee to Italy, where he illegally fought with the British Army until the war ended in 1945.

Selim used a fake British passport to emigrate to Palestine, then occupied by the British who severely restricted the number of Jews who could enter the territory. Like many Jews, when Selim got to Israel he dropped his Polish name and started using his Hebrew name: Shalom Yoran. He joined the Israeli Army and became a decorated Air Force officer. He built a successful career developing the Israeli aircraft industry. He was a founding member of the Museum of Jewish Heritage in New York and a governor of Tel Aviv university.

In 2003, Selim/Shalom published “The Defiant,” a memoir about his experience as a resistance fighter during the war. He dedicated the book to his parents. Shalom Yoran died in 2013 at age 88, survived by his beloved wife Varda, and their children and grandchildren.

For fighting Nazis and avenging his parents’ deaths, we honor Shalom Yoran as this week’s Thursday Hero.

#Thursday Hero

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lynn-w3st · 7 months ago

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MK1: Thantophobia (Prologue)

(Noun), The fear of losing someone you deeply love and cherish very much.

Pairing: Dark Bi Han x Fem Reader

Warning ⚠️: Mention of Suicide, Mild Yandere Behavior, Mention of Blood, Dark Themes.

I tried my best to start this lovely story off with a direct (over) foreshadowing prologue.

Bi Han was beyond furious with his wife, how dare she went behind his back and tried to get away from him. Can’t she see that the world is dangerous and you need him just as much he needs you. Please don’t leave him all alone like how his brothers, his father and mother did.

“You are a vile human and monster! I’m glad to have aborted this child!” The woman yelled at her husband. Bi Han was beyond furious at how dare his wife killed his beloved unborn child. He showed nothing but love and affection for her.

He gave her everything she wanted and yet she still treated him like a monster. “My love you are not well. Why don’t you rest and take a nap.” He said as the woman threw a vase at his direction but he easily step out of the way. “Get the fuck away from me! I’m not your love or wife.” She said as she walk towards the door but was pulled back by Bi Han who clutched her wrist.

“Don’t touch me you fucking asshole! I would rather die than continue being your wife. You killed your own flesh and blood! If your mother was here she would be ashamed of you!” She said but earn a painful ass slap from Bi Han.

Bi Han was breathing heavily in frustration as he grabbed his wife by her hair and dragged her out as she yelled and tried to free herself. “Let go of me!! It hurts! Let go of me! Someone help me!” She yelled as she tried to free herself from Bi Han’s very painfully tight clutch on her hair.

Tears fell from her face as she saw the lifeless bodies of Kuai Liang and Tomas on the ground. Her only ticket way out of freedom was gone as they were killed by the man that she once loved and called “husband” as she tried to break free.

Bi Han slammed the door shut and lock it as he walked away to go massacre the Shirai Ryu as his traitors of his brother were dead and dealt with. The icy weather outside intensified into blizzards as this horrific demon was unleashed.

Bi Han would do anything for his wife, he would fight many wars for her and offer his enemies lifeless head to her. “I love you so much I will never let you go. We are meant to be together.”

“I hope in different timelines, I die because you don’t deserve love and happiness. You are just a fucking vile monster who consumes innocent lives. I would rather die than be your wife.” She said coldly before turning her back to him and walk into washroom to take care of business.

She means so much to him. He won’t hesitate sacrificed the world for her as he adores her and cherish her like a good husband he is. No one can take her away from him as he will never let her go. Not even his brothers can take her away from him, he was glad to have killed them

But his actions have consequences and life was unkind. He became a very broken man, as the old Bi Han had died along side with his wife that night. His beautiful wife had hang herself as she gracefully floated like an angel before him.

Filled in immense sorrow and despair, Bi Han allowed anger, sadness and pain into his heart which turn it into darkness and anger. Angry that life took his beautiful wife away from him.

He held his wife’s lifeless body as he rock her back and forth. Bi Han didn’t care much about his wife’s infidelity with another man. That poor bastard was killed by his own cold blood hands.

So from that day onward, Bi Han went on a brutal rampage murder by killing and torturing anyone who dares opposing the Lin Kuei and to avenge his wife and won’t rest until he has her.

You gasped for loudly as the white curtains in your bedroom gently swayed from the night air breeze as you began to hyperventilate from the very horrific nightmare you just experienced.

“Keep it together (Y,N) it was just a nightmare.” You told yourself quietly as you got up from your bed and closed the window shut before wrapping your robe around your body and heading towards the kitchen to make tea.

It was the same nightmare you’ve been having for quite some time. A man in blue ninja clothes with a mask on was committing atrocities on innocent people. In the nightmare he claimed that his “wife” was taken from him. You shook your head in despair and laugh very anxiously.

“Maybe I’m losing my mind because there is no way something like that would exist. Probably I’ve been reading to much horror stories.” You mumbled as you prepared your tea with honey.

A knock was heard as you jump in surprise before fear began to settle in. Who would be knocking at your door at this time and why.

Being more awake and self aware, you grabbed a knife and silently made your way towards the door before peeking into the peek hole to see who is outside but sigh when you saw no one.

You cautiously open the door as you peek your head out to find a small box wrapped with a bow and note on it that was written nicely.

I want you to be mine, selfishly, thoughtlessly, mine. My darling, you will never be unloved by me you are too well tangled in my dark soul.

You stared at the note in shock and speechless as you were very flabbergasted. A chill feeling shivered down through your spine as suddenly everything became very quiet and a bit cold.

Snapping out from your thoughts, you quickly then close the front door and lock it tightly. You let out a shaky anxious breath as that horrible nightmare was still freshly implanted on your mind. It all felt so real and as a great sense of deja vu as if you seen this small box before.

You shook your head and decided to get back to bed and get some goodnight sleep. Maybe all this is from stress and anxiety. Yeah you are just imagining things as nothing like this can ever exist. Oh so you thought you wouldn’t.

Because somewhere in the universe or in a different timeline is a broken man who lost his beloved wife and he won’t hesitate to find her. Bi Han will conquer and burn any timeline to get her back even if he has to kill his other versions of him to get you back into his loving arms.

But for now you are going to give yourself a nice goodnight sleep because tomorrow is going to be a very busy day at the marketplace. Nothing can go wrong in my life right? Please tell me that everything is going to be ok and peaceful.

You just hope all this was just a big joke or prank by your two dear friends Raiden and Kung Lao. You have nothing to worry about right? Nothing at all so just rest peacefully.

Don’t let him get me please

Bi Han is coming

Hope guys enjoy this prologue please don’t forget to message me if you need any help or have questions for me. Your guys opinions and feedback is very much appreciated and helpful.

Also, check out the oc story I made today. Sorry if both stories came out a bit cringe and bland. I tried my best but as long as you guys are happy then I’m happy. You all are my inspirations ❤️.

Please check out this oc story that I made. I’m very sorry if it came out to hard or cringe. But that’s ok because I was very honored to have made it for my bestie hermana @khaotic-kris.

Story Link: https://www.tumblr.com/lynn-w3st/747061504660160512/mk1-diet-mountain-dew

#mk1 2023 #mk1 fanfic #reader insert #bi han x reader #yandere #bi han sub zero #female reader #yandere bi han #mortal kombat #lin kuei #dark themes #obsessive yandere

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ramblingoak · 1 year ago

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good morning kisses+ you're gonna get lipstick all over me with:

Ribz I took your prompt and gave it a vampire twist, I hope you like it!

Breakfast in Bed

Secondo x Female Reader ~ The perfect start to your new life as a vampire

Warnings: vampire violence and all that entails, biting, blood, more blood, sharing a meal vampire style, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, soft!vampiric!Secondo, rough sex, nsfw, 18+ only mdni, 2400 words

It was strange waking up after you died.

You weren’t struggling to breathe, gulping down huge breaths of air. Technically you didn’t need to breathe anymore although Secondo said you might still do it out of habit. The first thing you became aware of was the feel of the cool sheets against your skin. You used to make fun of Secondo’s demands when it came to thread count, but now you were nothing but thankful for his pickiness as you laid there naked.

With a soft groan you stretched out, spreading your limbs wide on the large bed as you started to look around the room. Secondo had promised you that you wouldn’t wake up alone but there wasn't a sign of him anywhere. The thick curtains were drawn over the windows and the only light came from a few dim lamps scattered around the room. You planted your elbows beneath you to push yourself up but a horrific cramping in your stomach had you gasping and dropping back onto the bed.

The pain was more intense than anything you’d experienced before. Even more than how much it hurt when Secondo had bit into your neck. You moved a hand up to where his teeth hand sunk in, expecting to feel broken skin but there was nothing. Your skin was smooth and cold to the touch. No sign of what he had done to you, of what you had asked him to do to you.

You had asked him to make you a vampire.

The Emeritus family being vampires was a horribly kept secret in the church. Most of that was due to Terzo, a man that couldn’t be discreet about anything. But with their status as vampires being well known amongst the congregation it provided them with ample opportunities to feed. Most Siblings of Sin were more than willing to expose their neck or wrist to one of the brothers. You counted yourself among them although Secondo’s favored place to bite you was at the inside of your thigh. Your flesh there was often marred with bruises and bite wounds from your Papa.

But that was before last night. Before he bit into his own wrist and had you drink from him. You could still taste him on your tongue and you unashamedly rubbed your thighs together when you thought of how erotic it had been.

“Look at you.” You froze at the sound of his voice, looking around the room for him without luck. When he spoke again you turned your head toward the foot of the bed and had to stifle a moan as you watched him walk out of the shadows towards you. “How do you feel, belezza?”

“It hurts.”

He tsked at you, shaking his head as he climbed onto the bed fully nude just like you were. In a stark contrast from yours his skin was warm as he placed his hands on your ankles. They moved up and down your shins in a soothing motion all while he held your gaze.

“Where does it hurt?” You moved a hand to rest over your belly, biting your lip when his eyes wandered down to watch as you rubbed it over your soft flesh. “I know why it hurts there, belezza, and I know how to fix it.”

“How?”

Secondo smiled, his fangs glinting in the light as he answered you.

“You need to feed, my darling.”

He turned and held a hand out behind him, reaching out into the shadows. With bated breath you listened to the soft footfalls of a visitor as they moved closer to the bed. A sister you hadn't seen before emerged into the light and you could taste her fear in the air. Secondo wrapped an arm around their waste and tugged them hard enough they fell across his lap and over your legs.

“Is she...is she for me?”

“Si, she’s yours. Ripe and ready to help you complete your transformation.” He reached for the poor girl’s neck and swept her hair aside. “Sister Dana agreed to help you, right sister?”

When she didn’t answer, Secondo grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her neck back. She cried out, a wounded noise escaping out of her throat at the treatment. Before tonight you would have stepped in to reprimand Secondo. You would have told him to stop playing with his food.

But now you were too hungry to care.

You managed to sit up, finding it easy to ignore the pain when every cell in your body was screaming for the blood pumping through the sister’s veins. Your hands flexed nervously in the bedding though, not sure what your first move should be.

“Would you like me to show you, belezza?”

All you could manage was a frantic nod, but Secondo didn’t seem to mind. He leaned into the sister’s face and gave her a kiss on each cheek. You could see her cheeks blushing from the attention, her mouth falling open when he dropped kisses down to her jaw. He kept going until he was at her throat, right over her jugular. Secondo murmured a few things in Italian before opening his mouth and sinking his teeth into the poor girl’s neck.

“Papa!”

Her voice was loud and panicked, echoing around you. She tried to say something else but the only other noise she could make was a garbled sob as her own blood filled her mouth. Your stomach clenched painfully as you watched it drip down her lips and slide down her neck. With a deep, animalistic growl Secondo pulled off and ran his tongue up to her jawline to collect the spilled blood. The sister clawed at Secondo's chest, tears gathering in her eyes when all your Papa did was give her a cruel smile in return.

“Hush little lamb, you promised to be good.”

You could tell his words weren’t registering. A pained grimace had taken over her face as she struggled to breathe through the blood. Secondo chuckled darkly before he leaned in and captured her mouth in a deep kiss. After a few moments he held out his hand for you and you took it without a second thought, pulling yourself up and across the bed to press against his side. Your eyes fell to her neck, to the blood pumping from the wound and you eagerly fell forward to lap at it.

It was amazing. The taste of her blood slid across your tongue like wine. It was warm and rich, coating the inside of your mouth before dripping down the back of your throat. With a frantic moan you clutched her, pulling her away from Secondo to hold her more tightly against you. He moved so he was at your back and you could feel his hands on your shoulders, feel as they slipped around your front to cup your breasts. He pinched at your nipples, harder than usual but the pain was good, it was so good. You needed more of it.

You sank your teeth into her flesh, feeling it tear as you bit at her harshly. The wound easily opened wider and you started noisily sucking her blood down. One of Secondo’s hands started moving down your stomach, his hands bare and smooth on your skin. When he reached your cunt his chest vibrated against your back with a laugh.

“Wet for me already?”

Without warning he pushed two fingers into your dripping entrance, groaning as your body eagerly accepted them. You could hear the wet sounds of him pumping them in and out even as you continued to suck as much blood out of the sister as you could. Secondo’s fingers started working faster, brushing against that spot inside of you he never failed to find. In and out, over and over again. Your orgasm was getting closer and closer and right as you teetered on the edge he pressed his mouth to your neck and bit down.

The feeling of his teeth on you again made everything inside and around you shatter. You pulled off the sister’s neck and fell back, letting Secondo catch you. The sister fell backwards at the foot of the bed, her eyes blank and unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling. There was blood still oozing from her mouth and neck, the sight making you growl and want more. Secondo cooed into your ear, gently turning your head towards his and then capturing your mouth in a kiss. He growled at the taste of blood there and the kiss turned sloppy as you each chased the blood smeared over each other. With a deep groan he eventually pulled away, smiling softly at you before tilting his head towards the pillows.

“You should get some more rest, my darling.”

You pouted as you scooted back towards the head of the bed, you’d rather stay in his arms a little longer. Both of you were now warm from the blood you had drank but it felt good to be in his arms regardless. His face paint was now smeared and mixed with blood although it did nothing to hide his handsome features. If anything it made you desire him even more now that he had finally turned you. You felt yourself getting wet again as you took him in and you relaxed further back into the pillows, opening your legs a bit to try to entice him closer. Secondo took a deep breath, a feral grin forming on his face. He remained still though and you stuck your bottom lip out further, wondering what was stopping him.

“Secondo, come here.”

“One moment, belezza.” He reached out for the sister, her chest barely moving with her shallow breaths. You were surprised she was still alive, but as you watched Secondo lift her wrist to his mouth you figured that wouldn’t be the case for very long. “We shouldn’t waste our breakfast.”

The softest of whimpers escaped the girl’s mouth when he bit into her again. He was oddly gentle about it but that might have been because he was staring at you while he fed from her for the final time. You held his eyes as you slid a hand down your chest, stroking over your breast before going further to your cunt. His eyes followed your fingers as you started to tease at your clit, rubbing over it in tight circles as he watched. When you moved down and slipped them inside of you he abruptly dropped the girl’s wrist, her blood dripping from his lips and dropping onto your ankles as he loomed over you.

“Such a naughty thing, teasing your Papa.”

He leaned down and began to kiss your skin, his lips pressing into random spots all the way up to your thighs. In the light you could see the bloody lip marks he was leaving, almost like lipstick, some with a hint of black from his face paint. Secondo brought his hands up to the inside of your thighs and pressed them further apart so he could settle close to your cunt. You were still moving your fingers inside of you and his eyes followed them, his hot breath grazing your skin as he moved his head closer.

“Secondo, please.”

You were ready for him to tease you some more, but in one swift movement he grabbed your wrist and pulled it away so his mouth could replace your fingers. His deep groan as he tasted you vibrated through your whole body. The grip he had on your thighs got tighter as he circled your entrance with his tongue a few times before dipping it in as far as he could. When you were able to look down at him you could see where your juices had mixed with the blood and paint he was already wearing.

Secondo looked absolutely feral as he hungrily licked and sucked your cunt. You reached out with one hand and grabbed his head, your fingers sliding along his scalp for purchase. He seemed to take the hint and buried his face even deeper against you, his nose pressing perfectly at your clit. You were so close, so close to the edge again. Gasps and whimpers were escaping you non stop as Secondo fucked you with his tongue. You were about to start begging for something, for anything, to push you over when he finally moved his lips up to your clit, sucking on it right as he shoved two fingers inside of you. He rubbed them along your walls perfectly right as he nipped your clit and you were gone, your whole body shaking as your orgasm ripped through you.

You weren’t sure how long you laid there recovering, the only thing that made you finally stir was Secondo’s lips moving up your stomach. When you mustered the energy to look down he was kissing you between your breasts. The area around his mouth shone with your release and you let your head fall back with a groan. He laughed against your skin, his breath exhaling on your neck as he continued to move up. When he was finally hovering over you, his eyes bright with laughter and love, you couldn’t help but laugh as well. You reached up and traced down the bridge of his nose before resting both your hands on his broad shoulders.

“Will it be like this forever?”

He grinned before leaning down and capturing your mouth in a kiss. You mewled as you tasted yourself on his lips, especially when you caught just the slightest hint of blood lingering in his mouth. When he pulled away and sat up to kneel between your legs you pouted at the loss of his mouth. Secondo just grinned again and moved his hands under you to grip your ass and lift you off the bed. You wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct and he moved one of his hands to grip his cock.

“Are you ready for forever, belezza?”

Before you could respond he started pushing into you, relentless and without stopping. His thick cock stretched you like his fingers never could and you reached out to dig your nails into his arms as the pleasure and pain rolled over you. He didn’t stop until he was buried all the way, his hips flush with yours. It was so good you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh. The thought of forever with Secondo, like this, was amazing.

“If forever means I get to wake up like this every day, then yes.”

Secondo laughed as he gripped your waist tighter, easily lifting you up so he could start fucking you at the perfect angle.

“Anything you want, belezza.” His pace increased, punishing and pleasurable, his mismatched eyes staring into yours as he fucked you. “Anything.”

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#my fics #my writing #secondo x female reader #papa emeritus ii x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #vampire secondo #secondo fanfiction #papa emeritus ii fanfiction #the band ghost fanfic #papa emeritus x reader #secondo fanfic #secondo x female reader fanfic

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palmastrings · 9 months ago

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The Seven Deadly... Rings?!?!

@nocreativityfornames you're a genius I'm just gonna go ahead and swipe this and *eats*

original post here

Essentially what if we started Nightbringer but we also had the brothers in tow in the form of rings.

No, I didn't spell check this, I'm don't write very often so excuse any weirdness. I suck at grammar and ignore spell check.

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

Solomon holds his hand out expectantly, presenting to you a handful of exquisite multicolored rings. 7 to be exact. Each one a familiar face, in a somewhat familiar time.

Honestly, this isn't really that astounding by any means. When living in the Devildom, you've come to expect even the most unexpected situations. The rings were probably the least surprising thing you've heard today, seeing as how you had mysteriously been thrown across time and space and landed in the Devildom... approximately 7,000 years ago. Maybe? Nobody is really good at saving dates around here, especially when the average demon lifespan stretches from now to, basically, the end of time itself. A slight over exaggeration? Again, maybe. But in your defense, in your feeble mortal eyes, that's what it may as well be.

The rings jingle in your hand as you tentatively scoop them from Solomons cold hand.

Apon first glance, they would appear to be normal rings. Pristine, each gold band is fitted with a unique colored stone matching those of the beloved demons from your normal timeline. Although, if you really focused on it, twisting the bunch of them in your palm with your fingers, you could feel how warm the metal is. It was as if someone had worn the rings before you, even though it should not have been possible, as you would be the first to bear them. Along with the warm glow of the rings, you could faintly feel an intense pulsing sensation coming from the set. Whether or not it came from what could possibly be a rapid heartbeat or the emanating pulse of horrific eldritch powers, you couldn't tell.

You go to slip them on your waiting fingers until Solomon interrupts you.

"I will warn you Mc, they were terribly rowdy before I turned them into rings, I don't blame you if you find them overwhelming to wear."

"Thanks for the warning, Solomon. I appreciate you coming all this way to help me by the way!"

"Anything for my favorite apprentice! Oh! And put in the good word for me!" Solomon winks. He turns, presumably to go and survey the Devildom of millennia ago. You're eternally grateful he went through all this trouble, not only to willingly throw himself across time and space, but to also take the time to bring along the demon brothers.

You insert each hoop onto your fingers. They fit perfectly, made just for you to wear. For a moment, there is silence. You almost begin to doubt they're even there. The only sign of anything unusual is the pulsing jewelry around your fingers, seeming to wane slowly, just until it matches your own heartbeat. Then the screaming.

"Mc! Did I hurt you at all?"

"Can you hear me?! What happened?

"AHHH, I can't believe you met me while I was in my blunder years! Wahhh!! I'm so embarrassed!!"

"Oi! Human what the hell?! What were you thinking just vanishing like that?"

"Mc, why did you leave?"

"Hon, you nearly gave me a heart attack when I heard youd gone missing! Lets go home asap!"

"..."

Suddenly, you weren't so alone in your head. A barrage of questions, sobs, and abnormal talk of urgency was flung straight in your direction. You could practically visualize the tearful Levi. The clear image of the batting white eyelashes of Mammon as he looks worried at you. Along with what's definitely becoming a new wrinkle on Lucifers face as you listen to him interrogate you. It was almost relieving to hear them speak with such familiarity to you. After being treated like a stranger not too long ago, this felt like you had brought a piece of home with you in this strange version of the Devildom.

Maybe, just maybe in the strange place, in this strange time you could make the most of it. With a sorcerer and the seven rings at your side you may just be able to tackle the newly fallen brothers of the past, the new ruling power of the Devildom, Diavolo, and finally find out why you were sent here by the one called, Nightbringer.

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radioisntdead · 1 month ago

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Hi again so I was wondering if you could do a angel dust x fem listener where we comfort angel dust and he talks about when he was a alive and the

Struggle he went though and he probably mentions his sister Molly

Good evenin' my dear! My apologies for this taking forever to get too! I did tweak it a little bit, Angel and reader just kinda talk about their siblings and being alive here, not really comforting each other but talking?

Late night talk

Angel dust & F! Reader

Warning: drugs, both reader and Angel are intoxicated, and canon divergent because I don't think we know much about Angel's being alive, ending is kinda abrupt.

It was some unspeakable late night hour and the two of you were in some rundown motel room, far away from Valentino, surrounded by all types of drugs, alcohol, a first aid kit and empty food wrappers.

The two of you were quiet, Angel was dangling off the bed while you were laying sprawled on the cold floor, staring blankly into the ceiling that felt like it could collapse at any given moment.

"Ya' know, I'm a twin," Angel dust said breaking the quiet, his eyes focused on the yellowing ceiling.

"Twin?" You glanced over.

"Yeah, I had a' sister, her name was Molly."

"Oh neat."

Silence filled the air again as a few minutes passed before he spoke up again,

"Ya' know I don't think I stood a' fuckin' chance when I was alive,"

You glanced up at him, only seeing the white fluff of his head, "Weren't you born in like, the big scary spaghetti mafia?"

"Ya' mean the Italian Mafia, the spaghetti mafia sounds like we were doing pasta crimes."

"Well you were doing crimes with olive oil,"

"Okay that was not me, I do not fuck with the olive oil!"

You broke into a laugh, "You haven't yet! No idea what grape man might try next." You heard him gag.

More silence passed before he popped up, "But seriously, I never stood a' chance, ya know my brother and I started bein' taught about the family business when we were like, twelve?"

"Yeah that's pretty fucked, I remember being twelve and playing video games not being taught how to commit crimes,"

"Right? gave me my very first gun for my birthday" Angel turned over on his stomach looking over at you, He was right honestly didn't stand chance, he never did.

Born in a mobster family as the second son, with a horrific father and a mother who could do nothing but watch as her sons were raised to live a life of crime, she wasn't the greatest person either though.

His sister on the other hand, was lucky, kept away from the whole crime business due to being born a daughter as opposed to a son.

"Who the fuck gives a twelve year old a gun?!" "My Pa did, twice."

You simply blinked, you were no saint, clearly, but you wouldn't give a kid a gun and just go, 'here kill people!'

"Ya' know the first time my brotha and I had to dispose of a body together we accidentally dropped it? The bag it was in ripped open and I just saw this guy with no face, torn clean off, It was jarrin' at the time,"

You grimaced, "Ouch, imagine getting your face torn off, he was probably alive during that too, eugh."

"Mhm, painful process I can tell you that much."

You got up from your rather comfortable position on the floor to grab a water bottle you had tossed aside on the table in favor of liquor instead earlier.

"Pass me the bottle o' whiskey' will ya?" He asked, you lazily grabbed it and tossed the bottle over to him, one of his four arms catching it.

"You know I had a sister too," you said as you popped the cap off of the water chugging it.

"Huh, Ya' always kinda stuck me as an only child"

"Yeah, well I practically was, she was prepping for college by the time I popped out," you wiped the residue of water off your mouth with your sleeve before setting the half empty water bottle back on the table and going back to lay on the floor, still slightly warm from where you were laying.

"I used to look up to her when I was younger, she was the cool big sister who stopped by every holiday or break, the one that said I could 'Tell anything too' and she'd be there for me," you let out a rather dry laugh, "honestly a load of bullshit."

"Damn," He took a swig of his drink, drinking the rest of the liquid before tossing the now empty bottle aside, you could hear the bottle crack on the ground.

"You know what's kinda funny? My sister was the only one in my family to get past the pearly gates."

"Huh, mine ended up down here, girl didn't last a week before extermination day," you went quiet for a few seconds, "What the fuck even is this conversation?"

"No clue, I was talkin' about how my sister went to heaven and you're over here talkin' about how yours is double dead."

"One twin going to hell and the other heaven is some book tragic book trope nonsense,"

"That nonsense is what happened,'' he said pointing a shaming finger at you, Sometimes he wondered how Molly would react to how he was now, she would be disappointed or maybe she'd pity him.

Maybe both.

After all he overdosed, ended up in hell and sold his soul to a purple psychopathic freak, and well look at him now! Laid on a cheap motel bed, under the influence, sharing stories about his sister and parts of his life on earth to someone called a friend.

Sometimes he wondered that maybe if he was born into a different family, in a different time things would've been different, maybe he would've ended up in heaven.

His sister was the only family member he could stand.

They drifted apart when they grew older, as he began to indulge in drugs, from cocaine to PCP to whatever he could get his hands on.

His sister tried to get him to quit, and to be fair he did try, a few times only to end up back snorting white power up his nose, and well, he ended up overdosing.

"I remember once our parents went out for the night, Molly took out a bunch of her dresses and had me pick one, then she did my makeup n' everythin' and we were just talkin' as she did it, just causal no judgement, nothin' just us bondin' I guess, I miss that.''

"Honesty I'm jealous, the best I got from my sister was her saying she was a safe space, that I could go to her about everything and then turning around and throwing it in my face," you took a moment to sit up, "Thank fuck I didn't tell her much, I can't remember exactly what she said but it just gave me this like, sickening feeling that just said 'You wouldn't be safe around this person if you told them what you are."

"I know that feelin' fuckin' hate it."

"Yeah."

"I'm hungry, I want whatever hell's equivalent to McDonald's is,"

"What the fuck is a McDonald's?"

"How the fuck do you not know what a McDonald's is?!"

Good evenin' folks! I do hope you enjoyed this, I edited this fic and decided to get it out today as opposed to Wednesday or Thursday, because my somewhat estranged brother is supposed to make an appearance tomorrow and I am positively nervous so this was fitting! I tried a little different way of editing dunno if it's noticable but I think I'm gonna stick with it! Also why did I think to write so much dialogue??

Anyways as always thank you for tunin' on in and I do hope you all have a wonderful night!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #angel dust & reader #hazbin angel dust x reader #hazbin hotel angel dust x reader #angel dust x reader

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lord-aldhelm · 3 months ago

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Why Aldhelm in Season 2 was the GOAT

An essay by Lord-Aldhelm

Y'all... I wasn't going to post this but I guess I will now haahaa! Thanks to that convo with @errruvande @bilbotargaryen that convinced me to post this rant.

I kind of talked about this before in previous posts but I wanted to kind of gather all my thoughts into one place and make a post about this.

These are my thought on the character so you are forewarned. Read below if you really want to.....

So I have seen *a lot* of people say that they didn't like Aldhelm in season 2, but the character grew on them and he went from one they hated to one of their beloved characters. And that is great! He really did experience a hell of a character arc and grew a lot.

But I don't believe Aldhelm was ever a villain. I know in the books he was one, and did some truly horrific things. But Show!Aldhelm is a completely different character, and even though Season 2 was supposed to follow the books pretty closely, he still was changed a lot. I won't go into any details for those of you who haven't read the books, but it will be obvious he is a completely different character.

So, I never clocked Aldhelm as a bad guy, even in Season 2. He never gave me any bad vibes, even on my first watch-through. It is easy for me to say this now since I love him to pieces, but I can honestly say that even when he was new to me, I never thought of him as a bad guy. Sure he *seemed* to be, but him making a bunch of silly faces doesn't make him a villain. He looked like a scheming sycophant, and was overshadowed by Aethelred. I honestly did not think much of his character until Season 3 when he started to blossom in his own right and really started to become someone who I fell in love with. But after rewatching Season 2 so many times, I have really come to appreciate him as an interesting character with his own depth.

1. Aldhelm is actually in charge

In rewatching Season 2, I noticed that Aldhelm was the one who did all of the talking for Aethelred, while Aethelred just stood there silently and let him do it. It was always Aldhelm who addressed King Alfred, it was Aldhelm who spoke to Lord Odda and to Aethelwold when there was a conflict. And when Aethelred was knocked out cold, it was Aldhelm who led the negotiations with the Thurgilson brothers. He really was ruling with Aethelred was making an ass out of himself, being a deviant, and getting everyone into trouble with his stupid decisions. What king would allow his advisor to do all the talking for him while he stands there without a word? It is so weird. But if he didn't, nothing would get done otherwise.

Additionally, Aldhelm had to clean up his mess and do it with grace. He was basically like "OK this is how we get out of this and not look like fools." Which comes across as scheming and manipulative, and perhaps it is. But Aethelred was totally incompetent, and someone had to get shit done. What I think goes over a lot of people's heads about their "relationship" is that Aldhelm was Aethelred's sworn oathman. In those days, and in the Saxon culture (also other Germanic cultures at the time), your word was legally binding. It was taken seriously, and you could not break it. The cost of treason was death, and if Aldhelm had defied Aethelred, he could he executed. Which amazes me just how sassy and outspoken Aldhelm was in Season 2 especially. He was *not afraid* to speak his mind, to Aethelred or anyone else, and clearly was not afraid of consequences. This speaks volumes to how poor of a leader Aethelred was, too.

2. Aldhelm didn't really do anything wrong

This is kind of subjective but hear me out. Aldhelm literally did not do anything wrong in Season 2. There were two events that people like to point out as examples of him being "evil" or whatever, but I see it differently.

2a. Wanting to take over Wessex

Aldhelm to Aethelred, 2.06

Everything Aldhelm did, he did for Mercia. During his lifetime, he had borne witness to the Great Heathen Army invading Mercia, seeing King Burgred expelled by the Danes, the Danes installing their own puppet king with Ceowulf, the eastern half of Mercia ceded into Danelaw, and Mercia losing its sovereignty to King Alfred, who made Mercia a vassal state of Wessex. Mercia was crumbling under weak and ineffective leaders, first being lost to the Danes from the north and the Saxons to the south. He had enough.

It is hardly wrong for him to want Mercia to have its own independent king once more. And it is not wrong for him to want to take over Wessex. He didn't even suggest killing Alfred outright, just waiting for him to pass on his own accord, either from illness or injury, and then using that opportunity to take over while Wessex was weak. It is EXACTLY what King Alfred did to Mercia when King Ceolwulf died. Two countries under one king; at this point it didn't matter if it was the Wessex king or the Mercian one. The only flaw in Aldhelm's plan was that he backed the wrong horse; Aethelred was just as weak and ineffective as the kings who came before him.

It is sad to me that Aldhelm is cast as a villain for literally wanting the same thing that Alfred did.

2b. Dealing with Aethelflaed's Abduction

"My advice to you, Lord, is to rescue her by all means. But not at a price that will cut our throats" Aldhelm to Aethelred, 2.07

Aethelflaed has been abducted by the Thurgilson brothers. They will demand a huge ransom for her release; and in fact even if they get the gold and silver they demand there is not guarantee that they will release her. But even if they do, by giving into their demands, the Mercians and Saxons seal their fate, funding the very warlords that will turn around and destroy them. It is not a smart move.

Lord Odda had suggested to King Alfred that Aethelflaed allow herself to be martyred to save the kingdom from such a fate. What Aldhelm suggests is literally the same thing. "We will try our best to rescue her, but we cannot allow Mercia to be destroyed just to rescue one person." It is sensible advice, in my opinion, even if it comes across as callous.

It was Aethelred's stupidity that caused her to be captured in the first place. Aldhelm even said as much.

One has to wonder if Aldhelm tried to talk him out of bringing Aethelflaed to the campsite and he refused to listen. "It is a choice, lord, between appearing lovesick or foolish." No matter what, Aethelred will look bad in this situation. Aldhelm tried to do some damage control by shifting the blame to Uhtred. The only thing he really did "wrong" here was using a bad situation to try to be in their favor, by hoping that Alfred would blame Uhtred for Aethelflaed's abduction and thus removing his strongest warrior from the picture. Of course that didn't work. And it was a good thing too because it was Uhtred and Odda who ended up saving her without the need to spend all the gold and silver in Saxon England.

#the last kingdom #aldhelm #text post #essay #rant #character study #character analysis

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do-i-look-like-a-doctor · 8 months ago

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Gojo headcanons bc ive got too much time on my hands

bro ate chalk as a kid and ive got proof

look at his kid self for a sec, he’s got a grown out buzzcut and the blue eyed stare. thats a chalk eater

you can’t convince me he’s a good swimmer

he’s lanky and tall, bro gets swept away the min he is near the ocean. he’s built to be shark food, sorry luv

the cloth he wears to cover his eyes is raggedy as hell

let me explain. he wears it constantly both in and out of battle, he wears it in any weather, and let’s be real he’s so odd that he probs sleeps in it sometimes

this leads me to believe that even tho he almost never gets hurt during a fight the blood and grime gets all up in the cloth

no amount of Tide or even acid could get rid of the STENCH that mask holds

it smells like ten cans of bounce that ass. one whiff could, quite literally, kill an old man

he’s a chronic podcast listener

tried to become one of those skater kids, failed miserably. geto never let him live it down

i think he’d make a great partner but if you listen to Hozier he will cause a scene

basically what im saying is he’s jealous of Hozier

Gojo knows that no matter how strong he is he will NEVER compare to that man’s vocals/lyrics and what they do to you

que Gojo trying to sing your fav Hozier song(s) but he can’t match the pitch which sends you into cardiac arrest

other than that he’s a pretty good singer, could probs serenade you to sleep

you know how everyone has an irrational fear? yuh his is birds

you ever see him interact with one in a normal way?

you see a bird, he sees a sack of organs with hollow bones that sore through the sky and sometimes they can talk

he pisses his pants when he sees a macaw

he’s a rich bitch and it’s a problem. not cuz he’s an ass abt it but bc he spoils the hell out of the teens

we know he would buy Megumi anything in the world but Yuuji and Nobara get the same treatment

he saw Yuuji’s orphaned ass and immediately transferred HUNDREDS to Yuuji’s bank acc

ain’t no student of his gonna be broke, that’s for sure

probs carries around pics of Megumi from when the teen was a kid

some are cute such as Megumi at the beach or having a fun at the zoo. others are of Megumi fighting for his life

i feel that when Yuuji entered the equation he also started taking pics of him during cute, fun, or important moments

very much sentimental older brother energy

whenever Gojo gets sick or injured he either becomes a massive baby or denies it until he’s dead

depends on the problem tbh. if he’s got a head cold he needs to be hospitalized but if he got his legs cut off he’d ignore it for weeks

you know how most men’s body wash or shampoo is named in, what’s considered, “masculine scents”

like redwood, campfire smoke, whiskey, fucking piss water

yuh he’s not a fan

i don’t think he’d really like those scents. in his mind, why does smelling like burnt coal or salt = masculine?

he probs just grabs whatever he likes, maybe orange scented stuff or even subtle vanilla

whatever cologne he wears tho is fucking delicious. you smell it and immediately your knees give out

i think if you gave him a huff of old spice tho he’d just disintegrate

im thinking of his general hygiene now, he has a solid routine

it’s not a million steps, probs just good quality face wash, serums, and moisturizer

that being said he suffered horrific back acne as a kid. dont ask how I know this, i will eat you alive

he looks and acts flawless but we know the truth. he sucks at card games

Yuuji’s biggest flex is he beat Gojo at go-fish 28 times in a row

he says calabunga and not a single person can stand it

that’s it for now, i’ll probs add more headcanons later

thanks for coming to my ted talk, i hope this post finds you before Sukuna does

(this is all mildly unedited, soz for mistakes)

#jjk #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #Gojo #jjk gojo #satorugojo

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maggiec70 · 6 months ago

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Antoinette Redux...

...and doubtless for far longer than I'm around.

Some time ago I replied to an earnest but largely inaccurate defense of Marie-Antoinette that bemoaned the alleged myths surrounding her. I only remembered this when someone “liked” my response, and I looked at it again. This time, I noticed the five added comments extolling Antoinette and Louis and tossing out red herrings and additional historical bloopers. More important, however, was that the original poster shut it down to any further comments. I wonder why? Disapproves of criticism? Dislikes historical accuracy when it challenges the pretty view she extolls of her historical heroine? Wants the two “fans” to have their say but no more from the nay-sayers?

I will not let this pass, petty as it may seem. Besides, there are times that I refuse to allow crap about specific historical figures to pass unchallenged.

These are the comments posted in Antoinette’s defense. I haven’t changed a word, but I deleted the names because they are unimportant. My responses are in italics.

Commenter #1:

“There is evidence King Louis XVI and Queen Marie Antoinette gave to the poor, provided education and other needs to the poor, and that the queen took a special interest in local children in need.”

In my reblog, I described specifically how Antoinette treated the poor; this is a regurgitation but more generalized, perhaps to make this charity seem much more extensive and continuous than it was. One point here for some accuracy, though marred by clear exaggeration.

King Louis was very 'wholesome' and was the first king not to take a mistress. Yet cartoons of the time portrayed all the royals and nobles as debauched.

Louis had some well-documented physical issues—the two most critical were tight, painful phimosis, which generally inhibits erection and ejaculation, and hypogonadism, which causes diminished libido. I suppose those conditions would preclude a mistress. These conditions also meant that he did not consummate his marriage until Antoinette’s brother, Joseph II, came to Paris to explain the mechanics of sex to Louis. Nevertheless, Antoinette didn’t have a child until eight years later. The contemporary historical records, including reports from his doctors, are replete with medical details. Quite a few are on Gallica, and even more are in the various French archives. Have a look, why don’t you?

Does this low libido and physical condition make Louis “wholesome?” Absolutely not. But it does explain why he never had a mistress. And yes, the cartoons and broadsheets more often showed Louis as impotent and hopeless, watching as Antoinette frolicked with legions of men. Louis was undoubtedly sexually dysfunctional, but Antoinette was not debauched or promiscuous. These broadsides were the late 18th century’s equivalent of X, formerly known as Twitter, where folks trashed royals and aristocrats.

“Marie apologized to the executioner for stepping on his toe.”

Excuse me, but why on earth does this matter? After almost a lifetime of indifference at best toward anyone not in her intimate circle, Antoinette’s “apology” means squat. However, if this means a great character trait, go right ahead.

Commenter #1, second comment:

“Some of the worst treatment was meted out toward their son, a helpless child, while imprisoned. It is too horrific to repeat here.”

No, this treatment is not “too horrific” to repeat here or anywhere if you want people to know what happened. However, you have to be careful here or regarding any other subject regarding what sources you use. Yes, indeed, the removal of the then eight-year-old dauphin, Louis-Charles, from his mother and sister, Marie-Therese, was harsh. His imprisonment was brutal: cold, filthy, with little water and less food, and no human contact other than his jailers who kept him under constant surveillance and who beat him almost daily, continually criticized Antoinette and Louis, as well as trying to force him to deny God, sing bawdy songs, and learn how to curse. The more gruesome allegations of sexual abuse are plentiful as well but not confirmed in the historical record. All the other types of abuse are documented in plentiful archival documents.

Commenter #2:

“…yes...and this poor child was litterally [sic] taken from his mother [sic] arms... Knowing how difficult it was for Marie Antoinette to have children in the first place ( in the Sofia Coppola movie my heart sinks every time when the young Queen runs to her private chamber to cry when her SIL gives birth) that was the worst thing her enemies could do to hurt her.”

Removing a child from its mother’s arms is a dreadful experience, but certainly not unique to Antoinette. So why is this an issue? Because it truly is not. Think of the many thousands of impoverished French mothers whose children dead from disease and starvation were removed from their arms for burial. Changes the perspective a bit, or it should.

The danger of using movies for any historical knowledge should be obvious. Coppola’s version certainly failed to explain any of the real reasons and backstory for these tears. And they are also exaggerated. You don’t read any history—real history, not Wikipedia, not historical novels, do you?

Commenter #1, third comment:

“Too horrible to imagine.”

I was tempted to omit this part of the chorus as too inane and uninformative, but, you know, truth.

I have no idea this will change anyone’s mind—it probably won’t, since breathless fangurl love for Antoinette, Anne Boleyn, and any one of the Romanov girls is generally firmly in place and generally idealistic.

However, I’m a historian, and I don’t often let misinformation unsupported by archival, primary, and even valid secondary sources go unchallenged. I also know how to evaluate those sources regarding when and by whom they were written and in what political, social, religious, and economic environment.

So here we are. I’ve said my piece—again—about Antoinette. Disagree all you like, but please state on what your disagreement is based: fact, or opinion.

#Marie-Antoinette #historical myths

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tilly-tilly-2827 · 6 months ago

Text

Leave It By Degrees #3

The unhinged love story loosely based on Shakespeare's Love's Labour's Lost that I can't get out of my head.

Synopsis: "Am I corrupting you?"

A03 post from here!

Previous chapter from here

The night Benedict met the love of his life, had been the crappiest day of his life. The day had started with an ice bucket full of water on his bed, his brother Anthony throwing it over him at 2:30 in the afternoon, shouting Why won’t you wake up?! dragging him rudely into the shower in one arm.

“Do you do this every night?” Anthony angrily shook his fingers at him as he was taken into an ice-cold bath. “I had to drag two hookers and a lad out of your bed an hour ago, do you think I wanted to see that?”

His head still banging with the after-effects, Benedict only rolled his eyes wearily.

“I didn’t ask you to be here, brother. I didn’t even ask you to wake me up.”

Benedict reached out his hand for a joint from the tub, but Anthony smacked off the box with his hands, the joints rolling down the floor.

“Brother, you ruined a perfect pack of my best…”

“I should have never sent you to Art School,” Anthony muttered, his head buried in his hands. “I should have stopped you when you said you weren’t going to join the business and play around with your bohemian cliques.”

“I’m not playing around brother. And this has nothing to do with Art school…”

“Oh, really?” Anthony tilted his head arrogantly. “When did these habits start? The drinks? The smoking? The weed? These goddamn pills?” Anthony opened the bathroom cupboard in a rough swing, slamming the plastic containers from the shelves and into the bin. “What would Mother think if she saw you like this? What would our sisters think? Do you think Father wanted you to be like this? Why keep ruining your own life when Father left you everything you need to pursue your career and waste it? I don’t understand…”

But Anthony noticed that his brother had sunken in silence, his head buried between his knees. Anthony couldn’t see his expression but he knew he pushed it too far. Anthony sighed again, pitching his fingers between his eyebrows.

“Mother wants you at the Ball tonight.”

“I see.”

“You’ll be there at 8 o’clock sharp.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Hearing Benedict’s voice return to his usual sarcastic tone, Anthony left the bathroom, quickly talking to his driver to make sure he leaves his flat on time. Looking at his phone and seeing the missed calls he got from his secretary, he looked up at the clear blue sky. How was he expected to handle everything?

But to his pleasant surprise, Benedict turned up at the ball, clean and shaved in a three-piece suit at 8 o’clock, (although he did forget that it was a masquerade, he ended up borrowing one from the footman.)

“Benedict! You made it!”

Violet, dressed in a beautiful Edwardian dress, smiled at her second son, embracing him in her arms. “Feels like I haven’t seen you ages, dear.”

“But I had dinner at your place last week, mother,”

Benedict gallantly smiled back, placing a small peck on his mother's cheeks.

“Well, you didn’t seem at all like yourself that night.”

Anthony glared from her back, and Benedict gave him a small smirk, he might have been a wee high that night.

“How’s your painting turning out?”

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t ask me that.”

Benedict groaned, but Violet simply placed her hands between Benedict’s cheeks, her sharp blue gaze looking straight into his.

“I worry about you my dear” Softly tapping his cheeks, Violet finally let go of the embrace, “I do hope you enjoy this night. You might have some inspiration.”

“From where I see it, inspiration is everywhere tonight, Mother,”

Violet playfully smacked his shoulders with her fan.

“Don’t be too sarcastic Benedict. You’d never say that if you knew how much it cost,”

The night had been horrific. The worst nightmare he could ever have. Despite wearing a black Demi mask, everyone recognized him with his six-foot figure and the Bridgerton chestnut hair, whispering around him not quite discreetly; he’s the number two. The artist. Ten people had asked him what he was doing with his career, not hearing about him after graduating art school. What are you working on? Does he even work? Why don’t you join the company? Why waste your father's money on nothing? Why waste your life? Every conversation felt like a flick of a knife, mangling his self-esteem with every word. He was barely surviving with glasses of martinis, he needed something stronger to endure the night. If El had been here, he could have sneaked out with her with some lame excuse, but with her still studying abroad in Egypt, and his brother glaring over him like a hawk, he knew taking plight was out of the question. He did participate in the required ballroom dance, but five young ladies had stepped on his shoes while dancing, and one had literally fallen over him, her heels snapping at the dancefloor. Benedict felt rather sympathetic towards her.

But everything changed when he saw her.

He had been lurking in the corner of the hall with a drink in hand, not quite in the mood to engage in a conversation. He glanced at the clock, knowing that if he stayed there for three hours, Anthony would count as participating in a family event. But just when he looked up, on top of the staircase, he saw her. No, it wasn’t just her. She was the beauty, the princess, the Cindella, the Juliet. Shimmering and gleaming in the candlelight, it was almost as if a spotlight was on her specifically, illuminating the dark, bare stage. Her golden locks flowing in waves, her silver dress glowing, the beads shimmering, she was the Vega in the summer night sky. Benedict could only stand there, dazed by her beauty, as if he were struck by a thunderbolt from the sky. But he was also oddly aware that it was not just the appearance he was drawn to, it was her radiant happiness that flowed within her, the bright luminous atmosphere that… she was just so happy to be there.

The next moment, his martini glass shattered on the floor. The next moment, he was running up the stairs. The next moment, he was reaching out his hands for hers.

Wanting to talk to her. Wanting to be close to her. Wanting to see her.

***

But why would she reject him?

Why did she run away?

The thoughts wandered his mind as he took another smoke from his joint. Running fingers through his hair, he contemplated the possibilities; perhaps he had taken it too far too quickly, taking her hand without any permission at all. Perhaps it was his pickup line, had it been too cheesy? But he couldn’t help himself at that moment, words slipping out of his lips unconsciously. Perhaps she wasn’t a big fan of Shakespeare. Perhaps she didn’t like him at all.

Perhaps she truly needed to deliver the shoes.

Benedict chuckled darkly, it was one of the worst rejections he had ever experienced; he was considered less important than a shoe. Well, it isn’t far from the truth, he quietly thought, taking a seat on the battered brick staircases of the back door, staring into the darkness. There was only light from the servants' hallway, casting a dim yellow light from the stained glass windows.

No stars, he dimly thought, looking up in the night sky. Not even the moon. Damn the city lights.

After frantically searching inside the Bridgerton House for the Lady in Silver, he just needed a quick break, (and he was also quite heartbroken by her excuse, needed to deliver shoes? The lamest excuse a person could think of!) he had taken refuge in his secret hideaway, the servant’s entrance that he often hid when he was a teenager, when he wanted to be left alone from his bustling energetic siblings. To enjoy the quietness.

He actually liked that place, he thought to himself as he seated himself on the stairs, softly tracing the weed growing from the crack of the tiles. His mother and Anthony did careful maintenance around the house, but he knew the downstairs servant area tended to be left alone. The wilderness and the desolation he felt in the back garden was something he felt drawn to, not the perfect ordinated decoration on the upper floor.

Maybe I should go back to the ball to find her. There was a spark between them, but it wasn’t just sparks, he thought. It was fireworks, the anticipation he had felt towards her. He knew that he needed her, the way he needed air.

Maybe I’m being too dramatic.

He was quite lost in his thoughts and a little bit too high on weed when the door crept open behind him,

“Oh.” It was a small quiet voice.“It’s you.”

The joint slipped off from his fingers, the cannabis scattered on the broken tiles.

“It’s you.”

It was the same girl, the Lady in Silver, his Cindella, his Juliet. Blond hair, silver dress, black mask, a soft smell of lavender, she was the exact one he had been searching for. Her emerald green eyes sparkling even in just the faintest light. Such a beauty, the thought popped again, but he did also notice that her shoulders, and also her presence were incredibly slight and delicate, so delicate it would shatter even in just one soft touch.

“...I thought this was the back door.”

Her voice was timid, hesitant.

“It is, it is.” He answered hastily, quickly standing up and wiping his ash-stained hands with his suit. It was the reunion he had been wishing for a few minutes ago, but he wasn’t exactly hoping to see her when he was devouring himself in indecent habits. Not the best second impression.

“Hi, I’m Benedict,” He took out his hand, and his heart leaped as her hands intertwined. “ I apologize I didn’t start with an introduction.”

“Hi, I’m…” Her voice trailed off in an awkward silence. Embarrassment to the family name, Araminta’s voice refrained in her ears, and she found herself at quite a loss for the next words.

“You’re bleeding.”

“Pardon?”

“Right there. A cut.”

Tilting his head ever so slightly, he tapped his left cheek. Her fingers reflexively followed his movement, but she could only feel her skin, nothing special, nothing odd.

“The other side,” A teasing grin was on his dashing face as he took a handkerchief from his pocket, gently pressing it on her right cheek, “That’ll leave a nasty mark.”

Softly tracing her cheeks over his silk handkerchief, Sophie finally noticed the cut that went from her cheeks to the corner of her lips. Overwhelmed with emotion, she didn’t notice the sharp pain that burned her skin or the trickling blood. Must have been the nails, she thought, remembering the sharp plastic the salons had glued onto her stepmother’s fingers.

“Wait here, don’t go anywhere.”

She should have left, at that moment. However, she found herself quite frozen at the door, still dazed by the fact that Prince Charming was in front of her, talking to her, acknowledging her.. How ironic, she thought. Araminta had kicked her out of the back door, only to give her a chance to meet with the man of her dreams again. A few minutes later, her Prince Charming was back with a first aid kit and seated her next to him on the brick staircase as he tended to her bruise.

“Who did this to you?”

“I’m, I…I fell from the stairs?”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

Their eyes met, just for a second and Sophie blushed, staring down at her shoes.

“…It was rather lame, wasn’t it?”

Benedict grinned, shaking his head as he gently wiped her wound with a wet cloth. Sophie didn’t mind the ache, but almost gasped when he placed his other hand gently on her neck, knowing that she must be burning in crimson.

“Very. Give me another one.”

“Tripped over a dress?”

“Terrible.”

“Accidentally grazed myself on the wall?”

“You’re the worst liar..”

“Attacked by my evil stepmother?”

He suddenly stopped, his eyebrows slightly lowering.

“Absurd, but that did sound most realistic.”

“Perhaps I am a good liar after all,”

The corner of her lips tightened into a grin, but Benedict couldn’t see the glee in her eyes.

“There,” He gave a satisfied huff as he pressed the bandage over the cut. He had been very tentative; despite his large hands, his fingers had worked skillfully, gently cleaning the wound with the softest touches.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

Narrowing her eyes shyly, she fidgeted with her hands, not knowing what to do next. She must look awfully rude, she thought, not introducing herself, when the man in front of her had done so much, tending to her with the greatest care.

“Perhaps you could thank me by telling me your name?”

His deep ocean eyes peering into hers, Sophie saw the change in the tide; the color of the waves becoming darker, the darkness holding a particular gleam.

“I’d love to, but I really can’t.”

“Why so?”

Because I should be a nobody, words almost slipped out of her mouth but she instantly stopped, changing her face into a hopefully enigmatic smile.

“I thought tonight was a night for secrets,” Sophie said, softly tapping her demi mask with her fingers.

“How about we make more secrets between us?”

Sophie suddenly noticed that his hands were on her thighs, his thumb softly drawing circles against her dress. Before she could stop him, his hand slipped to her waist, tugging her closer, making them only an inch apart. His fingers softly caressed the edge of her lips, Sophie couldn’t breathe, she was sinking in his touch, his eyes that burned with desire, the flaming fire dancing in the dark fathomless ocean deep,

“Let me take you deeper, my lady.”

“Am I interrupting something?”

The voice behind them had a teasing tone, but the two jumped apart at least a foot. Benedict groaned in irritation when he saw his baby brother pop his head out from the door with a cocky grin on his face.

“Perfect timing Colin, you couldn’t have picked a better moment.” He snared sarcastically, but Colin only laughed, leaning against the door as he took a finger biscuit out of his pocket, popping it in his mouth in just one bite.

“You couldn’t have picked a better moment to leave the party, dear brother.” He continued in a light tone, “Anthony asked me to find you, seemed furious at you, by the way. And mother as well. Didn’t you promise a dance with Pen? I had to take your place by the way…”

As he rambled on while munching on another sandwich that appeared from nowhere, Benedict managed to push his brother behind the door, shoving him into the hallway.

“Brother, just for this night. Have my back here.” Seizing his brother by the lapels, Benedict gritted through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down.

“Who’s the girl?”

“No idea,”

“Quite scandalous brother.” He grinned mischievously. Benedict raised his eyebrows dubiously as his brother took a deep breath, “I’M COLIN BY THE WAY…”

“SHUT UP! WHAT ARE YOU…”

“HE SEEMS BESOTTED IN YOU…”

Benedict slammed the door shut behind him, feeling his knuckles turn white. He took a deep breath.

“The joints are hidden behind the landscape painting on the third-floor stair landing.”

“You have a deal, brother.”

Colin took out his hand with a satisfied grin but Benedict slapped it off. But Colin only laughed wholeheartedly, swiftly readjusting his collar. Pausing slightly, Colin threw something at him from his pocket, Benedict catching it at the last second. The familiar plastic silver wrapper now in his hand.

“Better be safe than sorry,”

“I had one in my pocket,”

“Enjoy the second round then,” Colin shrugged as he walked back to the servants' staircases. “And thank me later!”

Benedict, Anthony. Colin. Anthony. Anthony Bridgerton.

The sibling banterings all forgotten, Sophie finally connected the knots that had been spread before her.

Benedict. Benedict Bridgerton. Her Prince Charming had been a Bridgerton. Sophie could feel the color draining from her face as she repeated his full name, knowing how furious Araminta would be if she had known she had spoken to him. Maybe she would kill me this time,

As soon as Benedict returned from the door, Sophie hastily stood up, picking up the hems of her skirt.

“I…I have to go.”

She tried to slip away, but he instinctively grabbed her arm, slightly wincing at the thinness. He quickly dropped his grasp, seeing the instant terror in her moss-green eyes.

“Sorry,” He blurted out, feeling himself redden. “I’m kind of…drunk.”

“Oh,”

“Am I scaring you?”

“No, no. It's just that…I didn’t know that you were a Bridgerton.”

“Does me being a Bridgerton scare you so?”

He gave a teasing smile, an effort to continue the seduction but she took a step away, the distance between them widening. Not quite the reaction he was hoping for, he quietly thought to himself as he returned his gaze. Her flushed face was now white as a sheet, also noticed that her fingers were twitching nervously. He didn’t expect hugs and kisses from the bashful girl, but he knew that there was some attraction in the Family name; knowing that some people would drool by even mentioning the surname.

“Shouldn’t you return to the party?” Sophie asked timidly, “Your brother said that Anthony was looking for you.”

“Shouldn’t you be back at the party as well?”

“...I got kicked out.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not needed here.”

“Same here,” He desperately wanted a puff of a joint, but instead, he took a cigarette from his pocket, expertly lightening up the head with a lighter. “My brother only requires me to be there. That doesn’t mean that he truly wants me back up there.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m an embarrassment to the family.”

What in the hell was he rambling on about? To the girl he just met? If it was the intoxication or the weed he did not know, but he found himself spilling the words, just like when he had first talked to her on the staircase;

“I’m the typical prodigal son. Doing absolutely nothing with my life. Wasting the family money with some useless..art.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Her voice was quiet.

“You’d think less of me if you see my work,” Benedict darkly chuckled, inhaling the smoke into his lungs. “I’m an imposter. Everything I do, Everything I paint, is an imitation. Backward compatibility of some masterpiece. Nothing special, nothing original, no anything. Wasted my brother's money, my father's money…on nothing at all.”

“So you drink and smoke and get high because you can’t create a masterpiece and you think you're wasting precious money?”

Quite straightforward, he thought. But there was no judgment in her voice. It was rather like stating simple facts, not like the tone he spoke at the party, the voices dripping with judgment and sarcasm.

“Well. Yes. Precisely.” He clumsily answered. “Why did you know I was high?”

“The smell lingers.” She said softly, the corner of her lips tightening slightly.

God, he must be leaving a terrible impression on her. High and drunk, a privileged git who doesn’t know what he’s doing…

“You think very highly of yourself,”

“Pardon?”

“I said you think very highly of yourself. Thinking that you can create a masterpiece, a legacy.”

“B, but, but,” He somehow found himself stuttering, grasping for words, “I’m an artist, I should be making something that means something, that inspires and amazes everyone,”

“You’re reaching for the stars, Benedict.” She quietly said. “And I believe that it’s killing you. You have to breathe, Benedict.”

He sat there quite frozen, not knowing how to react.

“Maybe you don’t have to reach for the stars.”

Just keep painting what you want, some day you’ll find a spark. If you keep practicing you’ll improve. The more you age, the more it gets better. People around him have shared wisdom during his artistic slump, but her words were not quite what he had expected. Her words sank into his soul, a ring of ripples spreading out from where her words dropped.

“I said something terribly foolish, didn’t I?”

“No, no.” Benedict quickly put out the cigarette, distinguishing it with his foot; “I found it rather…inspiring.”

Sophie softly smiled into the distance, feeling the warm summer wind on her cheeks.

“Has anyone told you that you’re quite observant?”

She shook her head, a sad smile across her lips, “I only get told that I’m a worthless git,”

“You? You seemed to be an accomplished lady, unlike me.”

“How would you ever know that?”

“The way you manage yourself, the way you talk…”

“Benedict, I’m wearing an evening dress with Converses. Do you think I’m accomplished at all? I’m a mess!”

She wasn’t lying. Tugging the hems of the dress, he saw a rather batted pair of sneakers, the moss-green material flicked with dirt. Benedict burst into laughter. He had expected her to be wearing a glass slipper or some kind, given the ethereal nature that surrounded her, or at least an expansive pair of heels.

“Why would you wear that with such a beautiful dress?!” He managed to wheeze out between laughs. He was almost getting breathless, his eyes watering with tears. “That combination has to be the most absurdist thing I saw tonight.”

“I’m a mess,” She grinned mischievously, “Like you.”

Looking back at that night after four years, Benedict regretted he had chosen to get high. Or the fact he had chosen to be drunk. If he hadn’t, he would have remembered every word that she had said, every expression that appeared on her face. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the color of her eyes. But the only thing he could remember was her blond hair, the silver dress and those damn Converses, and the sad smile she had on her lips.

“It must be nice to have a dream like yours. To create a masterpiece.” She softly said.

“Don’t you have a dream?”

“No, not really.”

“Didn’t you have something you wanted to be when you grew up?”

“No,” She spoke in bits and pieces, as if she were carefully picking up the broken pieces. “I…I’ve just survived, you know? I’m so busy surviving that I don’t have the energy to dream.”

Benedict softly reached out his hands, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. She let out a small giggle and squirmed, She must be ticklish, he thought.

“So I think it’s beautiful. To be an artist. To create something. To make something alive in the world.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re perfect.”

“You’re being silly.”

“I think I love you.”

“Has anyone told you that you’re incredibly impulsive?”

“Every day of my life.”

“You’re delusional.”

“Maybe I am just hallucinating.”

“I believe you are.”

The wry smile spread across her lips.

“Would you like to join me?”

“Join you for what?”

“Get high? Enjoy the hallucinations?”

“I’d love to but I don’t really… smoke weed.”

“I have a pack of cigarettes if you want?”

There was a hesitant look on her face but she took his offer. With a cigarette between her lips, she clumsily lit up the head with a lighter. She coughed and gasped as she took the puff, feeling her throat burn with smoke.

“Was it your first time smoking?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice that.”

“My dear, you were so obvious.” Benedict smiled, softly shaking his head. “You'll get used to it. Try taking another. Don’t rush it. Take it slow.”

The second time, she tried to take in slowly as he had told her, taking a steady intake to her lungs. Holding in the smoke for just a second, slowly she exhaled, the white smoke watering her eyes. Surprisingly, she didn’t cough this time, instead there was a certain dizziness as if she were floating two inches above the ground.

“This might actually be pretty good.”

“Did I just corrupt an innocent soul?”

“Why would you think I’m innocent?”

“I can see it in everything you do.”

“You’ve barely known me for ten minutes.”

“Sometimes you only need a second to know that the person is the one.”

Everything was silent between them. The bustling London streets, the party chatter from above, the distant music from the speakers, everything melted into complete silence. For a moment they simply looked in their eyes, it must have been only a second, but for Sophie, it felt like an eternity.

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

Without any further thought, Sophie grabbed the dark green tie and pulled it close, placing her lips on hers. It was the boldest thing that she had ever done, but she would never regret it, feeling the warmth, the sweetness of his lips. She knew it was a clumsy kiss, how her teeth clattered to him, feeling a slight smile appear across his lips.

“So you are really innocent.”

With those words he deepened the kiss, softly placing his hand on the nape of her neck.

It was too rushed, too desperate, too impulsive when he looked back. He should have taken her to his flat, or at least to a bedroom, ravishing her in the most tender way possible, but at that moment, all he could think was how he could be closer to her, more connected to her in the quickest way possible. She moaned as he pressed her against the brick walls, grinding his hot hips against hers, her breath hitched as he grabbed her bottom with one hand, the other undoing his belt.

“Shouldn’t this be more of a third date thing?” He managed to gasp between breaths, but his words were sealed by another wave of kisses.

“No,” She rasped, her fingers tugging at his curls, “I need you right now, right here.”

Benedict could still her hot breath next to his ear as he stumbled inside her, her arms tightly gripped around her neck, her nails biting into his skin.

Benedict could still hear her. Benedict could still see her. Benedict could still feel her.

Yet he didn’t even know her name. Yet he felt he knew everything about her.

It was a beautiful summer day, the day after he met the love of his life. The first day of June. The radio told him that it was the first sunny day with clear skies in three weeks, and at 7:00 am in his London studio, the warm sunlight shone from the windows onto the white canvas that stood in front of him, waiting for him to be filled with the wonders of the world. It had been a while since he even entered the studio, much less holding a brush in his hands. Could he do it? He still felt the pain of abandonment, the love he felt slipping out from his fingers.

Don’t reach for the stars. Breathe.

With the refrain of her voice, Benedict took the brush tightly in his hands.

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benophie #sophie beckett #an offer from a gentleman #benedict x sophie #benophie fics #bridgerton fanfiction

8 notes · View notes

lavender-romancer · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I request a teotfw imagine James x reader where you’re pregnant? Maybe after his dad dies or when he’s recovering on the hospital? Thanks!

Typical

James x Reader

CW: pregnancy, abortion possibility, stress

Just after James' dad died you began getting sick in the mornings and it was horrifically ironic how typical this was for your life

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

It was typical, fucking typical of your body to do this to you now of all days! James' dad was hardly dead a day before your body decided to give you those two taunting red lines on the stupid piss stick. You'd got the flu just before your GCSE exams started and then a few years later just before your A Levels you got tonsillitis. You were convinced at this point that your body was just the main saboteur in your life who always gave you some kind of issue that never quite fit with the circumstance you were in because it hated you.

Under normal circumstances you didn't know how James would react but under these circumstances? You didn't even think he'd want to keep it. Did you want to keep it? You weren't sure. Either way it had happened and you weren't going to tell him straight away because Jesus Christ it would be bad timing.

You'd only been dating for three years and how could either of you know if you wanted a little monster crawling out of your vagina when you were both only 20. James wasn't the type to lead and you most certainly were the leader out of the two of you, he would just go with whatever decision you made. On one hand that was brilliant, very supportive and progressive but you wanted his true opinion, you didn't want him to resent a child you had together if he wasn't ready. How the shit were you supposed to get out of this one? You decided to message Alyssa, her cynicism would be welcomed by you at this point.

You: I need your help with something...

Alyssa:oh god what's happened now?

You:I'm pretty sure I'm 🤰🏾

Alyssa: shit

Alyssa: have you taken a test?

You: yeah so I'm pretty certain

Alyssa: have you told James?

You: not yet

Alyssa: you need too Y/n, like you definitely need too

You: I know I do but it's just after his dad I don't know if it's the right time or if I should wait

Alyssa:god it's like my brother and sister having a baby together, the thought of you two having sex is just 🤢

You: alright Alyssa fgs, I don't know what to do or how long to wait to tell him

Alyssa:if I were you I'd tell him as soon as possible so he has time to like digest the information

You:I think I might give myself a few days, do a few more tests and then tell him so I'm sure and I'm not messing around with his head

Alyssa: yeah tbf doing a few more tests seems logical but you just need to calm down and let yourself process it too because it's a shit load of information to deal with

You: yeah thanks I needed someone to just talk straight with me because I don't know if I can even tell my parents

Alyssa: yeah I definitely wouldn't be telling mine ahah ☠️

You: alright, I'll let you know what I end up doing, talk to you soon xx

Alyssa: talk soon xx

You had to decide how to act around James when you left this bathroom and even that was daunting for you. The little two bedroom flat you and James lived in together didn't have to many places where you could be alone and think about everything. You flushed the toilet and hid the stick in your pocket, too worried to put it into the little bin in the bathroom.

Looking at yourself in the mirror you tried to breath in and out but you couldn't believe this had happened. The feeling of guilt was so deep in your stomach even though you knew it wasn't a case of fault you couldn't help but feel it was yours. James wouldn't choose to have a baby when his dad's body wasn't even cold and you didn't know if he would be honest about his feelings about the pregnancy.

You excited the bathroom anxiously and walked into the front room where James was watching some shit nonsense TV. He smiled at you as you entered and you put a fake smile on as you approached him and sat next to him.

"You alright? You were in there a while?" James asked as you shuffled down and leant your head on his lap.

"Yeah, stomachs just playing up," you said softly and James started to stroke your hair as a way to comfort you.

It made you want to cry how tender he was with you, he would never hurt you or want to hurt you and you couldn't understand why he cared about you so much. You were both so young but you were happy with one another and your very small peripheral of friends you had together. But James...he was your person, he understood you most of the time and always let you know that you could tell him anything. You'd never felt so much affection from someone and yet you were scared you might loose it even though he'd never given you reason to believe that.

"What do you want for dinner?" James asked, cutting through your self deprecating thoughts.

"Uh...not sure. Comfort food probably, I'm not feeling the best at the moment and I know you aren't either so maybe just some pizzas for us?" You asked and James smiled, leaning down and kissing you on the temple.

James could tell something was wrong but he didn't want to press you for answers until you wanted to tell him. Most of the time you'd come around sooner or later and open up to him and he usually didn't press you for answers because it made you close up more. But after his dad's death he'd realised he couldn't mince his words anymore, there wasn't any time to be secretive or wait for answers because we were all dying or just waiting for death. He knew sooner or later he needed to ask you what was wrong.

You brought the pizza delivery into the front room a few hours later and James smiled up at you as he took his boxes. Sitting down next to him you watched TV and just ate pizza without really using your brain, you needed that thought eating numbness that evening crap TV gave you. Any thoughts going through your brain were purely self deprecating and pathetic. Pregnancy or abortion weren't the end of your life but you couldn't help but feel that either decision would be the wrong one, you just wished it had never happened and you didn't have to go through this horrible process.

The following day you went to the doctor's for an emergency appointment because you felt like you were losing your mind and you were too scared to do another test at home.

"So your results are coming up positive for pregnancy," The doctor told you as she sat back down at her desk "Do you want any information on your options from here?"

"I mean, I think I know what they are. I'm just...I'm scared about what my boyfriend will say," your eyes started to water and you put your head in your hands "He's just lost his dad and I don't know when to tell him or when is the right time."

"Here, take some tissues," she offered you a box and you took a few "Well, you're only at around 2-3 weeks right now, then you have until 23 weeks to make a termination decision so you have time to come to terms with this. However I would make note of when it's around 20 weeks just incase you and your boyfriend need that time to have a conversation."

"That's true, I do have some time I just feel so guilty like I'm not being honest with him and I just don't know how to have this conversation because we're so young." You wiped your eyes and looked at the floor as your legs dangled off the side of the examination bed. You felt like a child swinging your legs, still mentally dealing with issues like you always had with avoidance.

"You know this is your decision, it's more of your own ethical decision to tell your boyfriend. Even though I would reccomend informing them, it doesn't mean it's required or anything like that." She told you with a supportive smile and you nodded.

"I think it's just the language I would use to tell him that I'm struggling with. Like I don't know if he would see it as a blessing or a mistake you know?" You rubbed your temples.

"Have you ever brought up the idea of children to him? Just trying to gauge his opinion of having a pregnancy." She asked and you shook your head.

"Oh god was I supposed too? Is that a normal conversation Jesus Christ we're so weird. I've never even considered it and I know that's stupid but I've always been on the pill and had no issues so I guess I didn't want to see it as a possibility." You put your head in your hands and groaned.

"You have a lot of options, I'm going to give you these leaflets about different options and if you read through these at the right time you can have the discussion with your partner." She handed over three leaflets.

You got into your car with your paperwork of the positive test and the leaflets and just cried, you sobbed for the life you had now taken from you and James because whatever you chose to do it would completely change everything. You had three options, three pathways that could change your life forever and you didn't know which was the right choice. How were you supposed to know what to do when this had never happened before and had never been on your radar like it was now?

The 'morning sickness' before had just been feeling nauseous but now you were actively bring sick basically every morning for weeks on end and there was no way to hide it. You just had to pretend you had some kind of flu or food poisoning everytime. Having to hide your cravings was getting mentally exhausting at around 6 weeks, you decided olives and strawberries were the ideal meal for you one night. James had looked at the food with a curious expression but didn't press you for any answers. You were getting worried he would never bring it up and that meant you'd actually have to say something to him.

One day at around 8 weeks you found yourself holding your stomach whilst watching television as James came in from work. Your front door opened into your front room and he immediately saw you cradling your stomach and the collection of weird foods out in front of you like pineapple and chili flakes. It made him anxious, even more than usual.

"Y/n, is there something you need to talk to me about?" James asked as he sat down next to you.

"What do you mean, lovely?" You asked innocently as your muscles tensed up.

"The being sick, the weird food you've been eating lately and holding your stomach I just..." He trailed off.

"What this?" You asked as you sat up gesturing to the pineapple "No, this is a Mexican food or treat or something, fruit or sweets with something spicy. It's totally normal but I think it reacted weirdly with my stomach which is why I'm holding it." You put on an anxious smile and James did an over dramatic breath out.

"Well that's good, I thought you were pregnant for a minute there ahah. That would be a nightmare. I mean, at some point yeah sure but we're not exactly ready for all that are we!" James exclaimed as he stood up and went into the kitchen.

"Yeah, that's true." You muttered as your eyes started to well up and you started to control your breathing.

Over the last few weeks despite the sickness and the pains you'd got quite at home with the idea of a baby in your lives. The idea seemed to work in your head but you couldn't tell if it was the hormones or your real opinions at this point. He said it would be a nightmare, why would he use such harsh language for something that could conceivably happen by accident?

You walked out of the front room into your bedroom and took the three leaflets out of your bag, taking them into the bathroom to read again. They were all purely informative without any kind of religious affiliation or anything like that but you couldn't ignore that it seemed you and your boyfriend's end goal for a pregnancy would be different. He seemed to want an abortion, it wasn't a fair judgment because he didn't know you were pregnant but what else were you supposed to think?

You began to silently cry gripping the leaflet for abortions tightly, there were 2 clinics near enough to you but you had to get picked up by someone and you weren't sure who too pick. Alyssa was probably your only choice but fuck, you were going to want to see James so badly. Could you really do this without telling him? Should you even bother telling him? Maybe it would be less bother for him if you just got rid of it. God...calling it 'IT' was a mindfuck. You'd got used to calling the little clump of cells Aubrey or Brie and you didn't know if you were ready to let go. It was pathetic really, were you really that scared to tell your boyfriend about something that was literally the size of a raspberry.

You: I really need to talk to you, like in person.

Alyssa: yeah sure, want me to come over?

You: nah I'll come over to yours

Alyssa: okay, head over whenever:)

You arrived at Alyssa's flat with eyes full of tears and she quickly let you inside and got you some tea after sitting you down on the sofa.

"What's going on, Y/n?" She asked.

"He doesn't want a baby," you started crying and Alyssa got you a tissue

"Fuck sake, what did he say?"

"He thought I was pregnant and I lied and said I wasn't and he acted like it was a relief, like he was happy about it. And now...I just think he'd want me to have an abortion but I don't know if I can." You held your hands over your face and cried.

"So you haven't technically told him?" Alyssa asked.

"He said it would be a nightmare just at the thought of it." You said softly and Alyssa swore under her breath.

"I'm going to kill him, like I'm actually going to stab his face. Why is he so dense?" She rolled her eyes and you laughed slightly.

"I have no idea but fuck, he was so relieved when I said I wasn't pregnant, Alyssa. How am I supposed to tell him now?" You asked.

"I don't think it's a case of how are you supposed to, I think if you love him you need to tell him. You don't know how he's going to react in the actual situation. James is a fucking idiot if our friendship has taught me anything he often says things without thinking about the ramifications." Alyssa sat down next to you and gripped your hand.

"Maybe you're right but I just don't know what to do." You leant on her shoulder and cried.

You were 15 weeks and you and James had never felt further apart. You hardly talked, you slept most of the day whilst he seemed to be taking more shifts at work. Nothing felt right and you just wanted to run away, not have to think about any of this stupid shit like having an out of body experience where you could escape. You had decided to book an appointment with the abortion clinic and tell Alyssa when you were already there to pick you up afterwards. In your mind it was the most logical way to resolve the issue that had been pulling you and James apart. Maybe a baby wasn't right at this point, maybe your little apple size clump of cells wasn't worth all this trouble.

Fuck it was stressful trying to make a decision that would impact the rest of your life but you couldn't cope with the fact that it was tearing your relationship apart.

James knew everything was wrong, he knew something bad happened because everything was different and you weren't communicating the same with him as you had before. He was finishing up for the day at work and grabbed some food for dinner before getting into his car and just leaning his head on the steering wheel in defeat. He loved you so unexplainably, so deeply that he would do anything for you but you had seemed so distant lately and that only meant one thing. You had grown tired of all his shit and you wanted out. James knew that it was only a matter of time before you left him. His phone ringing cut through his thoughts.

"Hello?" James answered.

"Get down to the fucking St Clems clinic you fucking idiot! She's going to get rid of it!" Alyssa yelled down the phone "I'm already on my way there but she needs you dumbfuck."

"What are you talking about?" James asked, perplexed.

"Your girlfriend is about to have an abortion because you said having a baby with her would be a nightmare, James. If you care at all about this stupid cell clump you need to get there right now!" Alyssa yelled and James could hear her yelling at the traffic as well. He wasn't quite at the point of acceptance, more guilt.

"How long has she been pregnant?" James asked as he started his car.

"Like 15 weeks or some shit. I don't know, she needs your support regardless of what she chooses to do. She needs you James!"

That was all James needed to speed over to the clinic where he already saw Alyssa's car parked off to the side. James didn't know what he wanted as he ran up the steps, he didn't know if he wanted a baby or an abortion either way he couldn't believe he had been so fucking dense and not believed his gut. He knew you'd been pregnant, he just didn't want to understand or try too. He was a coward.

"James?" He heard your voice as he came through the doors into the waiting room before walking over to you and enveloping you in a massive hug.

"I told you he would come," Alyssa said with a smile.

"Can we please talk about this? I know the situation I just want us too communicate." James asked and you nodded with tears in your eyes.

"I've missed you so much," you said softly as your eyes began to let tears loose.

"I've missed you too lovely."

"Let's go home now," you told James as you stood up and held his hand.

"Okay." James smiled down at you.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

AN: I'm a huge believer in the right to choose and if anything I'm a big abortion supporter. This story is more to understand how daunting the choices you make with pregnancy are when you're on your own.

#james x reader #james teotfw #the end of the f***ing world #james the end of the f***ing world #alyssa teotfw #Alyssa #james #alex lawther #teotfw #teotfw angst #teotfw fiction #james teotfw fic #the end of the fucking world #the end of the f***ing world imagine #the end of the f***ing world james imagine #the end of the f***ing world angst #the end of the f***ing world fic #the end of the f***ing world alyssa

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coffeecat1983 · 2 years ago

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“Little Signs” one-shot (Mario Bros)

(Takes place after the movie. Just my guesses and ideas on what could have happened)

Mario felt sick as he ran through the castle. Why hadn't he seen it before? All those little signs. When they were reunited, Luigi hadn't hugged him as tightly as usual and he had cringed at Mario's touch. Mario had been showing him around the Mushroom Kingdom and Luigi had kept quiet, almost withdrawn.

How did I not see it?

It was after breakfast and Luigi had excused himself to go back to the room Princess Peach had given them. Mario felt a little lonely without him as he wandered around the castle. Heading out to the royal gardens, he was greeting by the Penguin King, King Gustave. "Ah, Mario, it's good to see you." Remembering stories their mother told them, Mario took his cap off and bowed nervously. "Thank you, your majesty." he said softly. He stood upright, cap still in his hands. "I hope you're doing all right." Gustave smiled. "You don't need to be formal around me, if anything I should be bowing to you after all you've done for the kingdoms." Mario gave out a small laugh as he put his cap back on. "I'm just glad I could help." Gustave waved towards the gardens. "Come, walk with me." The two walked the pathways, casually talking about things such as rebuilding Gustave's kingdom. "With Princess Peach's help, my homeland should be restored soon." Gustave said. "But please, tell me how you are. How are you adjusting to life here?" "It's... different," Mario confessed, "but so amazing. Never had anything like the Mushroom Kingdom back where I'm from." "And your brother? I hope his wounds are healing up." Mario stopped dead in his tracks. "W-Wounds?" Gustave turned to look at him, surprised. "He did not tell you?" His voice softened. "Your brother suffered horrific torment at the hands of Bowser. And yet, he remained as brave and kind a soul as I have ever met. Many would have broken at such torture." Mario's blood ran cold. "He never told me... I-I didn't..." He took a step back. "Please excuse me." he muttered, turning and breaking into a run.

He had to stop himself from bursting into the bedroom, instead forcing himself to pause, take a breath and open the door. "Weege?" Luigi was curled up on one of the beds, his back to the door. He sat up, giving Mario a tired smile. "Hey big bro." Mario came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Weege, did Bowser hurt you?" he reached out and taking Luigi's hand, saw him wince. Mario pulled off his glove and gasped. Luigi's hand was covered in burns and burst blisters. He didn't speak as Mario removed his other glove, revealing more burns. "What did he do to you?" "H-He wanted to know about you, w-wanted to know how to h-hurt you." Luigi was trembling. "H-He held my hands over l-lava until they burned." Tears were gathering in Luigi's eyes. Mario saw a bruise peeking out from his sleeve and went to roll it up, but Luigi pulled away. "Is there more?" Nodding, Luigi tried to undo the buttons to his overalls, his hands shaking too hard from the pain. Mario gently guided his arms down and undid them for him before lifting his shirt. He could only stare in horror. Luigi's chest and arms were bruised with deep gashes and cuts all over. A few hastily applied bandages, caked in a mix of dried and fresh blood, hung loose from some of the wounds. "Oh my god..." "I didn't t-tell him anything," Luigi tried to sound proud, but his voice cracked. "I wasn't going to let him h-hurt you!" he finished with a sob. He leaned forward as he broke down and Mario carefully held him, feeling more gashes along his back.

A little later after Luigi's wounds were cleaned and treated, Mario and Peach were in the bedroom doorway, checking in as he slept. "He went through all that, and still managed to escape and save the others." Mario said. "Why didn't he tell you?" Peach asked. Mario pulled his cap off and ran his fingers through his hair. "Said he wanted to be brave, like me." Peach lightly touched his shoulder. "We'll make sure he gets the best of care." "Thank you, Princess." After watching her leave, Mario went in and sat on the edge of his bed, still watching Luigi. "Little bro, you're braver than I could ever hope to be." he said softly.

By CC.

#fanfic #mario bros #hurt/comfort #luigi

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cymorilcinnamonroll · 15 days ago

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On Why Angels are Horrific, as Told by Samael

I won't deliberately say Michael's an ass.

No. His assery is subtle, so well-hidden behind his commanding demeanor one might mistake it for charm. If sharp, uncomfortable charm's your thing. Me, personally, I like charm I can sink into- plush leather wingback seats, women whose charms serve accommodatingly as a head pillow. I'm a hedonist- I like the finer things in life. Michael, however, is sharp, like the edge of his precious blade. He's so mind-achingly intense every minute of his existence I'm surprised the idiot hasn't had an etheric aneurysm yet.

No, Michael's a razor. Michael may seem all solemn holiness and comforting smiles, but lurking behind that angelic exterior is a man that eats diamonds for breakfast. I kid you not. I, over here, am content with my Cocoa Puffs- they're this brilliant cereal I found in a human grocery store today. Dark, chocolately, and sweet as sin.

But I digress.

Do not think angels benevolent. There is a reason seraphim veil their faces. Why we warn mortals to fear us not.

We do so because angels are terrifying. You should quake in terror when you see us. Because angels only ever appear for a reason.

We are the faces of Death. Of Order. And Order, my dear, is maintained by blood, and blood alone.

Michael is not callous. Far from it. He knows exactly what must be done to maintain the Sacred Balance, and does so without flinching. He gave no thought to letting his dear Joan of Arc burn at the stake, though she cried out for her patron angel's saving. There is no time for thought- in fact, I doubt it exists in his mind. Michael is an instrument of God. What flows through his 'mind' is beyond mortal ken, the very movement of nature is veiled behind his eyes. I have seen them strip souls from the Earth. His gaze has made darkness cry.

It has made me fall to my knees. For his eyes- they are a mirror, of the most dreadful kind: they reflect everything back at you that is flawed.

Angels have terrible eyes. Mine kill.

We fear what lurks behind them. We know not ourselves. In mine, the abyss. In his, the cold, unfeeling light.

Sometimes, when I am alone in the silence of my room, I wonder what my brother truly is. Unfathomable. Unknowable. He who is like God.

Is he God? Does God exist? Or are we just the bastard children of a universe that exploded into existence on a whim? Parentless. Alone.

Michael knows. Michael knows, but he does not tell. He knows half the story. I, the other. And our lips are sewn shut by the black bonds of fate.

We are God.

I am Legion.

#samael #archangel michael #lucifer #ye olde teen blog i ran with sam #he loved freaking me out by writing this with me in twelfth grade

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raspberrysunshinebby · 2 years ago

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Two Choices

Chapter 8

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel

Summary: The future wife of Eris never cared much for mating bonds, she had spent years in love with Eris and when Beron finally died they could be together. He has full intention to make his love into his High Lady until at a party meant to celebrate Eris’ reign the girl finds herself finding her mate, Azriel.

Warnings: Slight smut, angst, azriel is literally toxic/manipulative and i was going to say kind of abusive but he literally is lol.

Word Count: 3352

(Money system in my masterlist)

Two weeks had passed since the incident, I was able to get the stitches out after a week and during that week I wasn’t allowed to even leave bed unless Azriel brought me out to the gardens. After that week we stopped going and instead went into town.

I was the one who asked to move the walks to town after I’d finally met Elain, one morning when Azriel and I were out Elain came out to work on the garden. When I saw Azriel lay his eyes on her I realized the answer to my question I’d asked myself a few times over the months, I’d wondered where’d Azriel’s affection had gone whenever he was mad at me or ignoring me, seeing the way he looked toward Elain gave me the answer to this question.

Once I’d gotten the stitches out I had a little more freedom, but not much. I was finally allowed to move from his room and mine when I wanted but that was it.

This had definitely taken a toll on me mentally, as a week after my stitches were out I didn’t even want to leave bed. I laid in my room with uneaten food sent up to me hours ago, I moved my blanket up closer to my neck when I heard my door open.

I felt a hand brush against my cheek before I heard my mate's voice, “You haven’t eaten yet?” He asked, calmly.

I shrugged, “I’m not very hungry.”

I felt him shift onto the bed and wrap his arms around me, “You still need to eat.”

“Don't feel like it.”

I felt him place a kiss on the back of my head before he got up to the bathroom. I continued laying in the bed but now closed my eyes. I had done nothing today but still felt exhausted, he was back quickly though. I felt the coldness of the air hit me as Azriel ripped the blanket off me to pick me up himself.

He brought me into the bathroom where I saw the bathtub running, he sat me on the toilet and helped me undress before moving to grab some oils and such for the bath.

I looked over to the huge mirror in the bathroom and noticed how I looked, I was everything my brother had described, skinny, sickly, dead. I felt like I’d gotten skinnier than when I was in the Court of Nightmares and felt weaker. My face looked sunken and I almost cried seeing myself.

I couldn’t recognize the women in the mirror.

I looked over to see Azriel, now naked as well, coming toward me. He lifted me and brought me into the bath, joining me only a second later.

I actually fell asleep as he washed my hair, I’m pretty sure he had washed my body as well. I ended up waking up a few hours later and realized how weird I smelt. I smelt like black raspberry, like vanilla. It wasn’t bad but it smelt so wrong on me, it wasn’t me.

When I stood up from my bed it was to do one thing, to look at my back. The first time I’d looked at my back I was in so much shock I couldn’t move, the scar running down my back looked horrific. I hated how it looked, it made me look horrific.

It scared me that my mate was the one who gave me the scar, and he didn’t even apologize for it. He’d completely ignored it. Now I wasn’t allowed to send letters to my brother again, I think Azriel’s scared I’ll tell my brother what happened.

He’s right to be scared, cause when I get the chance I will be telling my brother. I couldn’t keep telling myself I could live like this, that it’d get better, because that night proved it wouldn’t. I wanted to leave.

I decided I needed to push myself out of bed, that I needed to get my energy and strength back so I could leave. I needed to go to the Winter Court because I genuinely could not do this anymore.

After that, I pushed myself to go with Azriel on those walks and I pushed myself to begin eating again. I couldn’t just sit and mop if I wanted to go to the Winter Court.

After another week I’d gained some weight and didn’t feel like as much shit, Azriel seemed glad that I was getting better, while I assumed it was because his mate was getting better I didn’t know there was another reason.

Three weeks and six days after the incident Azriel sat me down and told me, “Okay by the way so, in like two weeks we’re going to be going to this cabin.”

He paused for a second, which I nodded at.

“When we get there, we’re going to accept the bond and spend the next two weeks there.”

My heart stopped at this, my head screaming curse words.

“I was hoping to do this sooner, but I have work and stuff so we’ll be doing it in two weeks.” He told me, attempting to hide the hole in my stomach I nodded to him.

Azriel smiled at me before kissing me and walking away. All I knew in that moment was I needed to figure out how to leave, and soon.

I almost cried of happiness when I found out Azriel would be gone on a mission that night, which gave me the perfect opportunity to sneak off and talk to Primrose. I thought if anyone would help me get out it’d be her. Once Azriel had left I waited a little bit before rushing out the window to Primroses.

I’d figured out a good way to get through the city that wasn’t in the main part, it wasn’t full proof but it made it a lot less likely to run into any of Azriel’s family. Once I’d gotten to her shop I immediately began to bang on the door in order to get her to answer. I didn’t except to see Edith answer, saying my name as she opened it. The distress on my face said enough as she pulled me in and brought me upstairs, where I saw Primrose sitting on the bed before sitting up after seeing me.

It took me a little bit before I grew the courage to tell them what happened, I trusted them both enough to show them my back. Primrose sat there in silence as she listened to what I told her as did Edith, but for Edith even though she was just as silent it was a different kind. Her silence was of rage, what I didn’t know was that Edith had gone through something similar as my brothers, her mother was abused as well, only that her mother had killed her father after she’d learned she was pregnant with Edith’s brother. I didn’t even know Edith had a brother.

“I’ll be back,” Edith said, “I’m going to get my brother, he’s gonna help us.”

The thought of another man helping me behind Azriel’s back worried me, knowing if I was found out and It’d be worse, Azriel would probably assume I was cheating on him. I didn’t want to know how that’d end.

When Edith got back with her brother I noticed how similar he looked to her, browned skinned with black hair but instead of the straight that Edith had it was curly. In Edith hands I noticed a black cloak and then I noticed another thrown over her brothers shoulders. Her brother kneeled in front of me, I noticed how soft his face was and how he looked so naturally kind.

“(Y/N), do you know anywhere you can go that would be safe.” He asked, voice soft and calm.

I swallowed, “The Winter Court, my brother is marrying the generals daughter.”

“Okay, my name is Corbin. I promise you I’m going to get you to the Winter Court, I just need you to trust me okay.” I nodded to him as I felt a tear go down my cheek. This was the first time in the Night Court somebody had actually tried to help me, for once I felt like a person.

I didn’t have much time to say goodbye before Corbin and I were rushed out of Valeris and what I didn’t know was how many mountains we’d have to get through to get out of the Night Court, Corbin said that this was better because it’d be harder to track us. We traveled closer to the ocean in order to make it easier but we still were in the mountains. Every once and a while if I had an idea of where we were going and how far it was I was able to winnow us, I cursed at myself for my winnowing not being better, because of this we were able to get almost to the border by morning. We both were tired but neither of us wanted to stop until we were out of the court.

I think it was a couple of hours later when we reached the border, laughing together as relief washed over the two of us. Seeing the mountains of the day court made him and I hug each other out of relief, both laughing as we walked to cross over to it, both happy as we were relieved to get out of the Night Court. Two steps away from the border I was stopped by the feeling of cold steel against my neck, I looked over to see Corbin having a knife at his neck as well. A man I didn’t recognize holding him.

“What are your names,” said a voice of a girl. I realized this was the person holding onto me.

I paused for a moment, looking toward Corbin who seemed to be trying to find a way out of this, “E-Enola.” I stuttered out, lying out of my ass. I looked over to see Corbin noticing what I was doing, “My names Felix,” He said.

“They’re not Illyrian.” The girl said, the man holding Corbin nodded. I saw another girl drop down in front of us, she was dark skinned with an afro, I noticed white spots on her face that kind of made her look like a deer. Her face was soft and her ears were pointed down, she smirked as she looked over us. “I say we just check their pockets and let them go, doesn’t seem like they have a lot of uses.” The girl in front of me said.

I turned to see a young boy, no older than twelve put his sword away as he began looking through my pockets, the other girl searching through Corbin's. With how low the boy was it was easy to knee him in the stomach, which allowed me to take his sword and throw the girl behind me down, Corbin following the same with the mans knife. I turned to see the girl who was holding me and noticed that she was Illyrian but to me that didn't matter, I ran to quickly grab Corbin in order to winnow us into the Day court, believing that we would be safe once we got there. Before I was able to a felt a hand reach over me and pull me down to the ground, knocking me out.

Waking up strapped to a bed wasn’t how I excepted to have my day be spent. I excepted to be in the Day Court with some sort of peace of mind, instead I now stare at the man who was holding Corbin. The man was scary, scars up his ripped arms, a short haircut with white hair and a face to match it all. He sat on a chair in front of the bed just staring at me.

“Hi,” I whispered out loud enough for him to hear, I did my best to have myself sit up in order to wake up fully. “Okay so, are we still in the Night Court.” He nodded.

I swallowed, “I am really sorry for attacking you guys, but I really need to get out of the Night Court, like really bad and so does my friend.” He said nothing.

I stayed quiet for a moment, “I’m gonna be honest with you, I wasn’t truthful with my name.” He perked up at that, “My name is (Y/N) Raith, my brother is the Duke of the Autumn Court and he’d pay a hefty sum for his sister and her friend to be let go.”

He didn’t respond again, this time a person walked into the room to replace the mans post, I looked to see the Illyrian girl walk in and taking the mans seat, crossing her legs and staring at me with her wings tucked behind her back. I really didn’t like the way she looked at me, the look reminded me too much of Azriel’s.

I began to open my mouth to speak before she cut me off, “Don’t offer up your brothers money again,” I quickly shut my mouth, “we dont need your brothers money. I just wanna know why you were trying to leave.”

I was a little confused, considering they literally were trying to rob us and were now telling me they didn’t need our money, which Corbin and I didn’t even have in the first place.

“Who do you work for?” I asked her, scared she worked for Rhysand.

“I work for myself, now tell me, why were you leaving the Night Court?” She said sternly.

I knew I couldn’t lie again, it’d be so hard to with how she was staring at me. I gulped, “I was running from Valeris.”

She laughed after hearing the words ‘Valeris’, “Valeris?” She laughed out, “The city of fucking starlight, the only place the High Lord actually takes care of. You were running from there?”

I didn’t laugh with her, my stomach twisted as she spoke and I really wish I was able to pick at my fingers now. My teeth grinded, “I had to run.”

She propped her head on her hands, clearly wanting to listen to a story. I began to bit at the skin in my mouth, “It’s his Shadowsinger I’m running from.”

“Ah Azriel. What are you?” She asked, “A criminal or something?”

“I’m Azriel’s mate.” I forced myself to say, “I’m running from him because… he’s not very…” I tried to figure out what to say, the word abusive crossed my mind but it felt weird, saying I was abused or something.

“He’s a bad mate?”

I paused, “I have scars on my back.” I said quietly, not knowing what else to say.

We were quiet for a moment after that, she stared at me trying to figure out if I was lying or not. She ended up getting up from her seat and leaning out the door, telling someone out there to get someone named ‘Blythe’ before coming back into the room.

“So the Shadowslinger abused you, correct?” She asked, I think she wanted to hear me just say it.

“I mean, I guess… I dont really know if abused is the right word, I just-”

“He caused those scars down your back, right?”

“He was mad,” I found myself defending him without thinking.

She nodded as if thats all she needed to hear, before I knew it the scary man that was sitting here before came into the room.

“So Blythe,” The girl started, “guess what I found out.” The man nodded to her.

“So turns out Lady (Y/N) here is Azriel’s mate, and turns out Mr. Shadowsinger is quite the abusive man. Thats why she was running with the other guy.”

The man walked heavy toward me, making me extremely nervous as he leaned down toward me, his face in my face. He took a breath before speaking, “Are you lying?” He asked. His breath smelled like mint and his voice was deep, like a scary deep but at the same time was smooth. If I wasn’t tied to a bed, shittig bricks, scared for my life, I would’ve found the voice soothing. I shook my head ‘no’ to him, a little scared to speak.

“Words.” He spat out.

“N-no, I’m not lying.” I basically whimpered out in fear.

He sat back up before turning and nodding to the girl, who quickly left the room. He walked toward my bed and undid the chains attached to the bed, but not my wrists. I yelped as I was thrown over his shoulder and brought out of the room, not fighting him since I knew there was no point.

I was pulled into a room and was sat onto a chair, once again chained up I looked infront of me and saw Corbin in front of me also chained to a chair and looking as confused as me. I turned my head to see the Illyrian girl and Blythe standing there by a door where three more people walked in, I sae the young boy and the girl with the afro walk in as well as another man. The man was skinny but not like deathly skinny, he had ashy blonde hair and I had to admit he did have a pretty face. They stood around before Blythe began to speak.

“We know (Y/N)’s real name, now whats yours Felix?” He said, emphazing on the word ‘Felix’.

Corbin held his head high, “Why? What are you going to do with us?”

“Trying to decide whether or not your worth letting live.”

I almost laughed, “I’m literally the sister of the Duke, I could give you guys a fortune for letting us live.” I said, “Just tell them your name.”

Corbin looked Blythe in the face, “Corbin, my names Corbin.”

Blythe looked toward the skinny man, who nodded at him. Blythe held his hands behind his back as he analyzed us.

As he did I made a suggestion, “My brother would give you more than just the fortune if you deliver us yourself, just saying.” I said smugly.

I turned to look at the group after I said this, I saw the afro girl thinking about what I said, then whispering in the blonde boys ear who then smirked. “How much?” he asked.

I thought for a moment, “At the least I could give you enough Carian’s coins to match all your weights combined. That’s the least though.”

I could see the young boys eyes light up as I said this, “I’ve never seen a Carian coin.” I heard him say to the Illyrian girl next to him. I smiled at him, “You’d have enough Carian coins for centuries.”

I saw Blythe look toward the group, then look the blonde man in the eye, who smirked and nodded at Blythe. Blythe looked toward me, “None of us can winnow and she,” he pointed at the Illyrian girl, “cant carry you both, and I’m guessing you cant leave the Night Court without Corbin.”

I thought for a moment, if Azriel caught onto my trail I didn’t want Corbin to get caught up with it. Not with the kindness he’d shown.

“I only leave the Night Court with Corbin. We need to go to the Winter Court.”

“Then it’ll be a journey.”

“I’m willing to make it.”

He looked toward the group who nodded to them. The young boy undid my chains and the girl with the afro undid Corbin's. Corbin and I were brought to the rooms that we were in before, this time unchained and able to move freely as much as we’d like. The only rule being to not to leave the compound.

Turns out they were called bandits and lived inside an old Inn that looked abandoned from the outside but inside was decently nice, with working water, food and a comfortable bed I didn't care. I laid in the bed trying to calm the anxiety of knowing I was still so close to Azriel.

#acotar #acotar x reader #Eris #eris x reader #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader smut #azriel x reader #Azriel

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