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ctheathy · 11 months ago

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Yandere Changelings w/ human!Darling

The Changelings x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Author's note: Gotta love these big buggo babies

reformed Changelings < unreformed Changelings

The Changelings/Reader [Platonic+Romantic-ish?]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

The Reader is quite humble • Abduction • Jealousy between changelings • Stalking • Invasion of privacy • Co-dependency • Aggression • Use of adhesive/the green goo • Violence • Possessiveness • Overprotective behaviour • Predatory behaviour • Love feeding • Overfeeding/“Overdosing” on love • Heart failure • Corpses of changelings mentioned

Changelings have certainly never had a very positive reputation around Equestria. The species of bug-like creatures mainly known to have ruthless mannerisms that only acts on instinct. Especially when considering the changelings eat love and love alone to keep them from starving. As you can see... These creatures, too, need to feed. And so steal the love hidden within ponies and other living entities for themselves with brute force. And this tiny human here... has love, and a lot of it.

But despite being an aggressive species, they are also known to be rather curious towards creatures they've never seen or heard of before. Which is why being a human is really just a saving grace for you in this scenario. Cause instead of pouncing immediately purely from starving impulse, they know they'd need information to report back to the Queen first. And since this is the first human the changelings have ever met, their natural reaction to encountering a new species is to learn more about it instead of feeding off of it, atleast not before they got all the answers they'd be satisfied with. Considering you are the only source of love and affection around.

The first changelings that have noticed your presence may start seeing you as a tasty morsel. if love is like meat for them, then they're being deprived of it, and then the one creature comes along that's a walking talking buffet of love. They'd observe your actions and behaviours from a safe distance for a little while, taking note of aggression signs or being a potential threat to the hive. But in truth... you weren't. You were more of a lover than a fighter, which gave the changelings the signal to not waste any other opportunity to abduct you into the hive for some answers.

And that's... when something sparked.

Being calm and sedate in your position would usually cease a changelings’ natural instinct to hunt and would often cause in less aggression and forceful measurements. But even if they did try feeding from your love, that would be similar to essentially trying to suck from a dry well, because the transporting process from the human realm to Equestria drained you of many strong emotions to begin with, and it takes a lot more time for your entire alternation from universe to universe to take full effect. And the changelings wouldn't budge from their stubbornness until you reached out to one of them... Brushing a gentle hand over its malnourished frame.

The love that you'd contain would be a tad bit ‘different’ from normal love they'd consume, mainly due to the fact that they never had to actually take it with force. You gave it to them willingly, making the love inserted into them a lot stronger and effective than if they were to steal it. Which results in giving their bodies an intense emotional ‘shock’ as you basically feed them little by little... The shock would still feel good to them, like it would make them feel warm and light headed, but their heart would begin beating rapidly by the shot of immense adrenaline they just got.

The reason why changelings need love and affection in the first place was because they need it for their survival. The value feeds them. As they learn you're capable of feeling and giving love, they would want to keep you around permanently to feed. However, in extreme cases it might lead to a changeling becoming dependent upon one person's love. And their survival might be based on that person's love and affection. and what happens when that person's love and affection starts to falter? There is such a darker side to something so innocent as eating some consensual love.

Which could go either two ways...

Plan A being a bit more complicated. Since they ended up taking a ‘sample’ of you to basically extract the hormones and emotions of love, you had proven yourself to be more productive than all of the ponies they've held captive combined. Feeling more satisfied with the mere sip of love you've happily handed out to them than with any usual prey they had ripped the love from. But the Queen desires love too, because it is essential for their race. And because the hive is almost completely devoid of any love in the first place. You could become a sample for the Queen... Just keeping you there and farm you for love.

But there's also a considerable chance the changelings who captured you would scrap plan A and would instead focus on a plan B... Keep you a secret from Queen Chrysalis and prevent you from being cocooned at all costs, but only under the condition if you keep blindly feeding them with your lovey-dovey personality. Changelings tend to function with a very strict hive mentality... conclusions are set by the swarm's majority of drones’ standpoint. They all have a strong tendency to fall for group decision-making, but they're also quick to swap their beliefs if it seems like the right choice for the best of the colony. So it likely wouldn't even take long for the entire swarm to come to an agreement to keep you secured under high protection and warding.

Due to being a good source, you would give them more positive energy than any other creature who would falter in their fright after being captured... which would make you a rather popular target for the swarm of drones. To a point where the entire hive would start to view you as the "heart of the colony" of sorts. Because a changelings emotions are based on their diet. And the more love they receive, the more addicted and obsessed they'll become with it. So they would all be head over heels at some point, bordering on complete worship ...viewing you as an object of their affection and admiration. And getting even more physically violent to defend and protect you from what they consider a threat to their food source.

They might be feeding off of the love you give them and emotional positivity for now. But if they keep feeding and feeding, eventually they are probably going to want something else than just your emotions, which isn't good... But at the end of it all, they will want to protect you. But their methods might be a bit morally questionable. They have been looking for a more ‘sustaining’ source of love their entire lives. And from what we know... love only grows stronger.

So what happens when a creature becomes utterly emotionally dependant on someone?

What if... they begin to get obsessive?

Instead deciding to ensure no one else gets to have you?

Signs of attacks outside of the hive would become more apparent as time went on, a variety of breeds beginning to disappear aside with half dead creatures covered in adhesive emerging from their hideout as no entity even dares to get close to the shapeshifters. Some changelings would begin arguing with eachother over the delightful taste of your love. But knowing how naturally greedy and hostile they can get, these would convert to physical violence sooner or later, causing a bunch of internal conflict in the colony. A bunch of love starved changelings just riskily fighting over a single human.

It would get so bad, in fact, that there's possibly not even second you'll spend in the hive without a changeling being nearby, just ... watching you. With or without you knowing, there to strike and pull you back in at a moments notice if your demeanor gets too close to flight response. The changeling that you first bonded with would feel remorse about doing it, but the rest of them won't really care much as long as they can keep you in their grasp. Though you would still be allowed to travel closely outside of the hive, they'll keep their little eyes on you anyway...

You'd have this love that's a bit diluted, but even with just having a weaker type of love to feed off of, they'd have to feed for a longer time and drain their energy in order to get it. Which in terms causes in them taking more than they can physically handle. You aren't necessarily a dry well, but rather more of a dripping faucet while they are all dying of thirst. So they could still eat from your given love for a while, but if they try to go all out, there could be horrific consequences...

Because each of them are essentially trying to take enough to survive, their individual feeding sessions can become more aggressive. They don't want to kill you, nor do they understand how strong of a heart you have. So they don't see that they need to be gentle. Because in their eyes, you're considered weaker as a mortal. And your emotions, not being very strong, make their hearts race and they aren't feeding slowly and cautiously enough to keep the heart beating at its normal pace. You're basically a complete reverse card on them. To the point of them becoming so infatuated with you, that they literally forget what they are doing, and basically, accidentally kill themselves with a massive case of overdosing love.

The more of your love they take, the more they will like you. And the more they like you, the more they would try to suck it out. And the more they try to suck it out, the more it would turn into a "want" instead of something more natural. And then, that's when some would begin to die from overfeeding. The emotional shock and overdosing on love being much more overwhelming than the changeling's bodies are capable of handling. And of course, you wouldn't really understand why they were all suddenly lifelessly scattered around you...

It would be quite a challenge for many changelings to have the self control to prevent that fate. I doubt the majority of them would even understand the concept of death enough to avoid it even when their heart rate was going at unsafe speeds. The situation would honestly be safe for the changelings that have enough self-control to hold themselves back, but those who don't would become history real quick... Especially as changelings mainly seem to cocoon their prey. You may have more love to give when you're out in the open, but perhaps you even walking freely might just be enough to push many changelings over the edge.

Though this would also highly depend on the distinct personality of each changeling. Those who were more reasonable would try to just suckle in love. Then we have those who would become a bit feral and aggressive trying to tear the love out of you. Making it like a really twisted irony that they want love, but by trying to obtain love, in this way, they could essentially doom themselves. The ones who are more in control and more disciplined may survive. But either the greedier or younger, more immature changelings might get too excited and just want more and more. Which leads into them destroying their bodies via the very thing they wanted. The ones that do manage to control themselves will remain very interested in you however. But even if their fair sense of attachment and perhaps even bond towards you won't fade...

This is nothing more and nothing less than a parasitic relationship

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year ago

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Humans are weird: The illusion of Pain

“The monastery is secured.”

“Excellent.” Vil said over his shoulder. “What of the survivors?”

“We’ve gathered them in the main hall.”

With that Vil waved away his underling and returned his gaze to the outside. Situated atop the tallest mountain range on the planet Vil had to give the humans credit for a truly majestic location to build a temple. He was also grateful that it was so isolated which made raiding it even easier. The nearest terran league outpost was a system away and since his pirate crew disabled the temple’s transmitter in the opening volley no distress signal had been sent out.

Turning from the view the pirate captain began walking the corridors to the main hall. He strode past several of his men ripping tapestries from the walls or carrying several large golden artifacts under their arms. Vil was not concerned with gathering loot himself. Once all the loot had been gathered aboard his ship he would get first pick of the treasure, and if any of his crew had kept loot for themselves before he had his pick they would find themselves the guest of the airlock chamber.

A short walk later and Vil had reached the main hall. Gathered at the center were a dozen or so human monks. They had offered no resistance to his crew when they attacked and as such none had been killed during the attack; though some bore a few new bruises from his crew’s “encouragement” to comply with their orders.

“You have all complied with my orders and as such I will give you a chance to earn your freedom.”

The gathered humans looked amongst themselves in confusion at Vil’s statement. “We are going to play a game.”

Vil entered several keys on his wristband and an energy barrier appeared around his person. It was capable of stopping level three plasma energy shots as well as the occasional thrown knife. He had known a few pirates who had neglected that last feature and had paid the price for their carelessness.

“If any of you can reach through this shield and touch my person, I will set you all free and return your possessions to you.”

Several of the humans looked up at this but Vil raised a taloned finger to forestall them.

“However,” Vil continued, “should none of you be able to complete this task you will be sold into slavery for profit.”

The sudden jubilation at potential freedom was just as quickly quashed by this statement and Vil grinned. He may not be a vindictive pirate, but that didn’t mean he had other ways to enjoy a bit of sadism now and then.

“I will give you until the final setting of the sun to win; you may begin when ready.”

His crew watched the humans whisper between each other before one of them finally stepped forward. Like the rest he wore a simple orange robe and had his head shaved to the skin.

Vil stood silently and watched the human approach him. He stopped just outside of the barriers range and reached out with a hand cautiously. The moment his finger touched the barrier a shower of sparks erupted from the point of contact and the human withdrew their hand immediately.

The surrounding crew guarding the humans laughed at the foolishness of the human monk. Looking down at his singed finger the human was horrified to see the top layer of skin for his entire digit was missing. The red pulsating muscle surrounding his bones was now clearly visible and the monk wept from the pain.

Vil looked down at the monk and shook his head. “If this was an easy game it would be no fun.”

The first monk retreated back into the group nursing his wound as a second monk approached. He walked as close as the first monk and stopped, taking several deep breaths and closing his eyes. Reaching out with his right hand the monk touched the barrier but unlike the first monk continued moving his hand forward as the energy barrier began to spark. He had made it all the way to his wrist before he finally gave out and screamed in pain; retracting his now flayed hand and collapsing to the ground.

Vil grinned and turned to his crew. “Anyone want to start a side wager?” he chuckled. “I bet fifty credits not one of them will get past their shoulder.”

His crew laughed and joined in on the side wager, placing all sorts of bets from which one will be the first to die to which would piss themselves from pain.

On and on this went as the sun slowly set in the distance and the room grew darker save for the light generated by the energy barrier. Vil watched as every monk stepped forward and tried their best to reach him. Many could not handle the pain after mere inches; while others tried repeatedly each of their limbs had been flayed in some manner by the barrier. One had even gone so far as to sprint at Vil in an attempt to use his forward momentum to reach Vil. That human had lost their footing just as they leapt at Vil and had merely grazed the barrier, and in the process flay half his body as he flew by the pirate captain.

“If there are no more contestants,” Vil finally declared as the sun was just about to set, “I think we can end this game.”

Vil was just about to deactivate the barrier when a voice gave him pause.

“I believe it is my turn.”

Vil looked up from his wristband to see an elderly monk slowly make his way through the crowd of humans. His pace was slow yet precise as the old man finally stood before Vil.

“You are the leader of these humans?” Vil asked the elderly human.

“Yes, I am the master of this temple.” They replied in a throaty voice dimmed by age.

Vil tilted his head to the human in recognition. “A pleasure to meet you,” Vil began as he waved a hand at the injured monks, “but I must ponder the nature of a master who allows his students to come to harm before he intervenes.”

To his surprise the elderly human shook his head. “A true master will let their students test what they have learned, rather than deny them the chance of enlightenment.”

This was not the response he had expected. “Then tell me, wise one, what have your students learned?”

“They have learned the meaning of pain,” the human replied, “but have yet to master the means of overcoming it.”

Without saying another word the elderly human walked forward. He did not outstretch his hand or leg as his students had but simply approached Vil with his back upright and his breathing calm.

The energy barrier sparked to life as the master stepped through it with his entire body as if it was nothing more than a gentle stream of a waterfall. Vil’s eyes went wide as he watched the skin from the human be peeled away by the barrier from his head to his toes in an instant. Yet what was more astonishing was that the human made not a single sound aside from his deep breathing, even as his clothes burst into flames and fell from him in clumps of ash.

His crew stood silent as the elderly human reached out with a now shriveled hand and touched the forehead of Vil with a single finger. They had never seen any being perform such a feat before and watched with baited breath for their captain’s next words.

“How…..” was all Vil could manage as he watched the flayed man standing before him.

Through lidless eyes the master looked up at Vil.

“Pain is a great unifier amongst the many peoples of the star ways; yet only when you realize that it is an illusion can you truly begin to experience the universe.”

He motioned to his gathered pupils who were still nursing their wounds. “Our order has been persecuted long before we reached the stars and in doing so has taught us much of pain.”

“And yet you appear to be the only one who has overcome it.” Vil remarked.

The flayed old man looked at him and smiled. “That is why I am the master.”

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #tw

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 months ago

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Posting schedule: Friday Misdemeanor, and Wednesdays for one the occasional one shot. Tag lists are always open.

Join us in the VoxTek Discord server for a Vox themed Hazbin place to hang and get teasers for upcoming chapters!

my AO3 and Kofi

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart

Cover done by @redvexillum

Human Alastor x married reader Rated Adult for adult themes,triggering content and sexual content. Potentially DD:DNE, mind the warnings Series Trigger Warnings: Adultery, stalking, Sexual assault, Rape, smut, Domestic Violence, Time period accurate views on women and domestic violence and skin color, murder

Summary: Fading away in an abusive marriage, each day passes just the same as the last. Painful monotony eats at you until a pair of warm brown eyes sparks the idea that you could have something more. When a business deal between men sparks a torrid affair, how long can you keep things going before the fire either leaves you a burnt out shell or burns up everything around you?

And what becomes of the radio host who thought he was above the fickle fires of the heart when the match he strikes burns his hand instead? Can he possess what rightfully belongs to another man without leaving everything he has fought for in ashes?

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59. 60

Why Is MisD Reader Coded... white? A supplemental reading explaining the historical context, why the deliberate choice was made to code the Reader as a white woman for the sake of plot points, and why I personally would find it disrespectful to have not done so.

MisD Sidepieces: One shots or fics that take place in a MisD AU or are MisD canon but written by another.

Inappropriate Demeanor by @nyx-umbrakinesis (Canon placement, end of chapter 22) Chapter 2 (canon placement between chapter 24 and 25)

Audio Chapters by Nyx Productions: Chapter 1: part 1 part 2, Chapter 2: Part 1, part 2, part 3, chapter 3, Part 1, part 2, part 3, Chapter 4: Part 1, Part 2, Chapter 5: Part 1, Part 2, Chapter 6: Part 1, Part 2

For Eternity (Completed)

Banner by @redvexillum

Alastor x Angel!Wife Oc (Isabel) Rated: Adult Warnings: This fic contains sexual content, explorations of consent within Angel Dust's contract in relation to sex work, Sexual assault, Possessive and obsessive behaviors, Power dynamics, Adam being an ass, kidnapping, Vox is in hell for a reason, Val is in hell for a reason, Vox has a weird thing for Alastor, Angel Dust is sweet as pie, murder, revenge, implied sexual assault and harassment, miscarriage and death.

Summary: Isabel died young, leaving behind her husband to pick up the pieces. Finding herself in Heaven, she waits for her husband to join her. And waits. And waits. Years and decades pass as she faces the realization that Alastor may not be joining her in Heaven, leaving her largely alone in a realm of double standards and fake smiles.

She must decide if she is going to move on from her marriage or do whatever it takes to reunite with her husband. Would he even still want her? Would she survive the dangers to find him? Would the cost be worth what could be gained?

Is Heaven really Heaven if the one you love isn't there with you?

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Another day in Paradise (On hiatus)

Pairing: Eventually Alastor x OFC, later- light Alastor x ofc x Lucifer Rated: Adult for eventual smut Content warnings: It's Hazbin Hotel- this feels redundant. Sex, eventual smut, referenced implied suicide to be discussed in more detail later, drugs, drinking, poor coping, toxic behavior, controlling behavior, cannibalism, idk, it's fucking Hazbin Hotel, if it's worth a content warning it's probably going to come up at some point? Religious trauma. reader has a name/is a oc.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4

A Taste of Sugar

Alastor x reader Rated: Adult for smut TW: blood kink, bondage, reader with trauma from food insecurity Summary: As you work through the trauma of your life and starving to death, you dismantle your stash of snacks for what you hope will be the final time. Snack cakes, cookies and crackers are given to everyone around you, except one resident in the hotel whom you knew wouldn't enjoy or consume the treats. Then, as the flow of treats tricked to a stop, stash dismantled, small brown boxes containing treats began to appear at your door. Simple, delicious and seemingly homemade treats without so much as a note.

He watched and he waited, each week for your offer. Each week, no offer came and again he left his gift at your door. Why would you not think of him? Why would you not see him? What did he have to do for you to consider him?

Chapters: 1, 2

Wild Flowers (One shot)

Alastor x readerRated: Adult, 18+ Content warnings: Sex pollen trope and related questionable consent due to intoxication, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, knotting, praise, dancing that shouldn't be that sexy, biting, a touch of blood drinking, female masterbation, some possessiveness, Alastor being a bit of an ass

Summary: You had always loved flowers, so when you found a patch of pretty purple wildflowers growing in the small forest behind the hotel, you didn't think twice about picking a small handful to bring back to your room. While they smelled lovely, you were wholly unprepared for the side effects of exposure or the repercussions of offering the terrifyingly handsome Radio Demon a smell on your way to your room.

With your body burning from the inside out with an overwhelming need and a displeased Radio Demon pushing his way into your room, you have no idea what you're in for.

All you wanted was to pick some flowers but you got so much more.

Audio version brought to you by @nyx-umbrakinesis, Pt1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5, Pt6.

Steamy Situations 18+ (One shot)

Alastor x readerRated: Adults only Warnings: Smut. It's shower smut. Female bodied reader. Careful with your shower sex.

Summary: You're hot and bored and your husband is busy working. If only there was a way you could distract him, get some of his attention and cool off. Audio Fic credits: Read by the lovely @nyx-umbrakinesis (Audio fic part 1, part 2)

Read me to sleep? (One shot)

Alastor x readerRating: G Summary: After a long, shitty day out and about you drag yourself home to the hotel to seek shelter and comfort in the one place you knew you could find it.

Home is where the heart is (One shot fluff)

Vox x Reader Rated: General Warnings: I accidently spilled a little angst on the fluff serving. Sorry?

Summary: You're cooking dinner when your secret boyfriend comes home. Caught up in the moment, confessions are made and hearts are put on the line.

A Bed of Electric FLowers (One Shot)

Header done in part by the wonderful, amazing, fantastical @redvexillum

Vox x ReaderRated: Adult CW: Sex pollen trope, sex toy use, female masterbation, Vox's glowstick dick, way too many tv details, Male receiving oral,

Summary: A unexpected floral arrangement is delivered to your door as you're trying to ignore the lingering absence of your flat faced boyfriend. When Vox returns home and finds you in a compromising position, he's eager to assist even without a clue as to what has you so worked up.

Sister Dearest (One shot)

Requested: Vox x Alastor’s!Sister!Reader rated: Adult

Summary: Sneaking out of the protection of the protection of your brother's district was dangerous. Not only did you risk Alastor's wrath, you risked catching the eye of some unsavory characters. While you could meet many friends upon the streets of the forbidden tech district, you find Vox and his alluring promises of a good time.He knew of your brother and seemed to hold no animosity, surely he was a friend to the Radio Demon, right? Surely you could trust his company, right?Right?

Power (One Shot)

Vox x Reader Rating: Explicit 18+ Warnings: Porn without plot, Power dynamics, Secretary reader, Choking on dick, Office blowjob.

Summary: Vox is wound tight after his on air showdown with the newly returned Alastor. The show must go on though and you have just what he needs to get into the right headspace to move forward.

(None, for now)

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goldbug127 · 2 months ago

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Apologies in advance for a long post!

Okay, so I'm watching Transformers Prime for the first time and I just finished the amnesia episodes.

Naturally, I have thoughts. My main one being:

This version of Orion Pax is as feral and all over the place as TF One Orion Pax!!!

HE'S JUST QUIETER ABOUT IT!

Ok first of all, obviously we don't see a lot of this Orion and 75% of the time he's just tryna figure out where he is and what's happening but I believe there's enough there to comment on.

Onto the first scene I want to talk about!

Orion Pax has just been told that his entire home planet has been destroyed, by someone he knew no less. His reaction is one we would all expect from a soldier. Clenching his fist, promising to stop Ratchet, "this I vow with all my spark", etc. etc. BUT we forget, this guy thinks he is an archivist. As far as he's aware, this guy has never fought anyone before plus, we know from later that he doesn't even know he has weapons. And sure he may not explicitly say he plans to fight anyone but, as I said, he's an archivist, his little speech was someone with a big vocabulary's version of "it's on sight if I meet this guy!"

The next scene I would like to talk about is when Arcee manages to get aboard the decepticon ship. Orion is peacefully working on his computer when he starts hearing blaster fire outside the room! What we would most likely expect a calm, sensible archivist to do is, I don't know, ask what's going on? call for help? alert some security? hide? any other number of things that wouldn't put him in immediate and potentially life threatening danger? yes, that would be logical wouldn't it? but Orion? he decides the next obvious step is to walk out into the hallway into what he must assume is an active shooting situation. Then, after being told by a guard to return to his room to be safe, he thinks about it for a moment and then continues to go out of his way to look for the source of the commotion! While knowingly disobeying what he's been told are Megatron's direct orders! He's crazy!!

I also want to talk about how Orion reacts once he starts to become suspicious of Megatron. In the scene right after being confronted by Starscream and the scene later on when Megatron asks him about his progress, Orion Pax, now very sure that the decepticon could be dangerous, decides to lie directly to his face. I would also like to point out that, after one of these scenes, Megatron says that he has never been good at lying. Orion Pax has NEVER been good at lying, meaning that Megatron has seen Orion try to lie before. I don't even know why an archivist would need to lie but apparently he finds way to get in trouble enough that he does so frequently.

Adding on to this point - after Orion finds out he has guns (and realises he can absolutely obliterate others with a few shots (something our sweet historian should have probably been more concerned about)), this GUY decides to MARCH through the ground bridge!! find MEGATRON!!!! (aka the former gladiator and current head decepticon) AND THREATEN HIM!!?!!!?! Threaten him, no less, WITHOUT USING THE GUNS HE JUST DISCOVERED HE HAD! Orion decides to fight the LITERAL TANK using glorified knives. Naturally, Megatron wipes the floor with him in less than three seconds but the fact that he even tried is insane!!

Anyway, I'll probably think of more when I've had more time to think but that's all for now.

Orion is a mad lad in every iteration.

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk,

you're welcome,

I need sleep.

#transformers one #transformers prime #orion pax #megatron #optimus prime #tfp megatron #tfp orion pax

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ethicaltreatmentofcowplants · 1 month ago

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part iii (part i + part ii)

(due to sims doing everything but what i wanted them to, this extended into night and the screencaps were terrible - i apologise)

“Avery, I feel like our potential isn’t necessarily reflected by your score, and much of that was my doing. You just seemed to catch me when I was in the middle of a Moment and was not exactly feeling receptive towards anyone. And among those who did… less well, you were one of the few who actually initiated flirting with me and who seemed to really try. So let’s take this as an opportunity to refresh and maybe have a second shot at things. I’ll be seeing you very soon.”

“Jayla, you’re clearly having a ball and I enjoyed being in a household with you. But so far you haven’t seemed all that drawn to me, and I feel that at least in terms of romance, I’m the one putting in all the work. You are one of eighteen, and it seems like you’re not sure why you’re here. Let me know whether you want this - or not - but let me know. See you for Round Two.”

the final four...

“You know how it goes. I have only one of my strawberries left, and I am not splitting it four - just who the plum comes up with these things…”

“Forest - considering your strong start, this is a long way to fall. We have potential and you’ve shown hints of sweetness, but you keep on pushing me away - and your autonomous mean interactions? Not okay. It wasn’t cute when boys did that in grade school, and it’s far from cute now. If your aim is to sabotage yourself, then you’re succeeding spectacularly.” (Forest: nervously sweating...)

“Lee - much like Forest, yet worse. While I get the sense that Forest has the potential - and maybe even the want - to be something better than his past behaviour, you on the other hand seem perfectly happy with just how you present yourself. Well, I’m not. I like the version of you who is friends with Tiago and who has some moments of vulnerability, not whatever this is.” (Lee: unbothered, totally convinced this is all a ruse...)

(Araminta: hoping to the old Watchers and the new that Forest is going home...)

“Piper - if only we had even a little romance, my dear. But at least with me - or perhaps even with life in general - that just doesn’t seem to be what you’re looking for, and that’s okay. You stepped out of your comfort zone to try something that doesn’t come naturally to you, and for that you’ll have my eternal admiration. But I’m afraid that this chapter of your story ends here.”

“Aubrey - you’re here for a good time, but sadly not a long time. One of the most gorgeous sims I’ve ever laid eyes upon, and I really enjoyed your sense of fun, your mischief and your creativity. As there’s no spark between us, however, let’s just say it’s been real and move on. You were a delight to get to know - I hope we can catch up again after the show.”

“Forest, something is telling me not to let you go just yet. And if I’m wrong, then more fool me. This is a second chance for… whatever you need it to be, I guess. Those don’t come around often, or at all. Make the most of it. And if there’s any more mean behaviour - I may no longer be a werewolf but I’m not completely without bite. Man up and grow up, or get out.”

“Lee, here’s your fifteen minutes. Best of luck in building on them. And as the autonomy settings are driving the Watcher crazy - Araminta, you absolutely don’t need to talk to your horse Every Five Seconds - we’ll say our proper farewells tomorrow. Sorry for the lack of decent screencaps, everyone, but you only have your pixel selves to blame.”

“Hey beautiful, so I totally know this is all a stunt. You have to leave the audience on a cliffhanger, right? Don’t worry, I’ll play along. I am a supremely talented actor after all - I can even cry on command!” “Mhmm…” (reflects on how that’s only a Level 2 interaction in the ACTING skill)

how scores were calculated

Ooof, I really wanted to take more of the bottom three in particular, but I was also this close to ejecting my EA folder into the sun. They will however each get a proper farewell from Lilac (and a thank you from me to their watchers) and their very own shiny post in broad daylight when hopefully the in-game lighting is better cooperating.

Also now we know just what Forest was up to that very last day. That little so-and-so realised that he was on thin ice and thus was skillbuilding like there was no tomorrow - which for him was almost the case! I will be including Aubrey's, Piper's and Lee's score details in their farewell posts and you will see just how close it all was.

@x-digitaldollhouse-x @tipsy-clouds @riverofjazzsims

@plasmafruittree @sleepyselkiesims @fl0pera

#simply lilac #simply lilac round one #simply lilac 'strawberry' ceremony #lilac moon #araminta hearst-irsay #avery nguyen by x-digitaldollhouse-x #jayla madison by tipsy-clouds #forest green by riverofjazzsims #aubrey smith by plasmafruittree #piper o'donovan by sleepyselkiesims #lee daniels by fl0pera

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muiitoloko · 9 months ago

Note

If that’s okay for you if I may request

Colonel Brandon If that’s okay? Cause I read all your Alan rickman stories and I love them all so very much! ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for writing those

Title: You are you

Summary: You are everything he needs, even if he doesn't realize it initially.

Pairing: Colonel Brandon × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Madness, Self-criticism, inferiority complex, unrequited love, anguish.

Author's notes: I've been wrestling with writer's block for a while, trying to figure out how to craft a one-shot with Brandon. Then, a spark of inspiration hit me while watching the Netflix series "Queen Charlotte." Drawing from her character and that of King George, I found the muse I needed to create this piece. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for your support!

First and Second part here.

Also read on Ao3

Colonel Brandon stood on the sprawling grounds of his estate, his thoughts consumed by the recent turn of events. Marianne had chosen John over him, and though he felt a pang of sadness and disappointment, he knew he had to respect her decision. Seeing her happy with another man brought him a bittersweet sense of contentment, knowing that she had found the love and happiness she deserved.

But as the days passed, Brandon couldn't shake the lingering emptiness in his heart. He knew he needed to move on, to find a wife who could give him children and heirs to carry on his legacy. And so, he reluctantly resumed his search for a suitable match, his heart no longer seeking love, but rather a practical solution to his need for a family.

It was during one of his social engagements that Brandon encountered you, the eldest daughter of the duke and duchess, a woman living in seclusion on their vast estate. He had heard whispers of your eccentricities, but he paid them little heed, his focus solely on finding a wife who could fulfill his need for heirs.

As Brandon got to know you better, he discovered the truth behind the rumors surrounding your behavior. Your parents, the duke and duchess, confessed to him the challenges you faced, the periods of aggression and madness that plagued you intermittently. Despite their wealth and connections, they had been unable to find a solution, leaving them resigned to your fate.

But Brandon was undeterred by the revelation, his pragmatic nature guiding him forward. He saw in you the potential for a suitable match, a woman who, despite her flaws, could provide him with the children he so desperately desired. And for your parents, you represented a burden they were eager to unburden themselves of, a means to secure your future and their peace of mind.

For Brandon, it seemed like the perfect compromise—a marriage born out of duty rather than love, but one that could fulfill both his and your parents' needs. And so, he approached you with a proposal, his demeanor calm and composed as he laid out his intentions with unwavering clarity.

As Colonel stood before you, awaiting your response to his proposal, you couldn't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. Despite your eccentricities and the challenges you faced, you couldn't deny the practicality of his offer. It was a solution that could benefit both parties involved, easing the burden on your parents while providing Colonel Brandon with the heirs he desired.

Lost in thought, you retreated to the comfort of your study, surrounded by shelves filled with notebooks containing your innermost thoughts and musings. Dressed in your usual attire of men's clothing, a reflection of your unconventional nature, you pondered the implications of Colonel Brandon's proposal.

As you delved deep into contemplation, the weight of your decision pressed heavily upon you. You knew that accepting Colonel Brandon's offer meant relinquishing any hope of a love-filled marriage, resigning yourself to a union of duty and practicality. Yet, the thought of bringing relief to your parents, sparing them the burden of dealing with your unpredictable episodes, tugged at your heartstrings.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of introspection, you made your decision. Stepping out of your study, you faced Colonel Brandon with a mixture of determination and resignation in your eyes.

"I accept your proposal," you announced, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "But under one condition." Colonel Brandon regarded you with curiosity, awaiting your terms with an air of patience and understanding.

"I ask for a cabin of my own on the estate's land," you continued, your gaze unwavering. "Far from the mansion, where I can retreat during my periods of madness. It is my only request."

Brandon considered your condition carefully, weighing the implications of your plea. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded in agreement, a hint of understanding softening his features.

"I see no harm in granting your request," he replied, his voice calm and reassuring. "In fact, it may prove to be beneficial for both of us. A space of your own, away from the confines of the mansion, where you can find solace during difficult times."

A sense of relief washed over you at his understanding, grateful for his willingness to accommodate your needs. With a silent nod of gratitude, you accepted his offer, knowing that it was the best course of action for both you and your family.

Brandon didn't see anything wrong with granting your request for a cabin of your own on the estate's land. In fact, he saw it as a practical solution to ensure both of your well-being. If you were to experience periods of madness, it would be best for you to have a space where you could retreat and find solace without causing disruption to the household.

So, Brandon accepted your condition without hesitation, understanding the importance of accommodating your needs. However, he didn't anticipate just how distant you would be after the wedding. Days turned into weeks, and Brandon found himself growing increasingly impatient with your absence from the main house.

Despite his frustration, Brandon respected your need for space and independence, trusting that you would come to him when you were ready. However, as the days stretched on without any sign of your presence, Brandon's patience began to wear thin.

One night, overcome with loneliness and longing for your company, Brandon made his way to the cabin where you spent most of your time. He approached the door with a sense of trepidation, unsure of what he would find on the other side.

As he entered the cabin unannounced, Brandon was greeted by the sight of you standing by a telescope, your eyes fixed on the starry night sky above. Books and notebooks were scattered around the room, evidence of your scholarly pursuits and intellectual curiosity.

You turned to him with a smile as he walked in, your expression one of genuine warmth and affection. Your nightgown billowed around you, your hair cascading in loose waves down your back, and Brandon couldn't help but think how beautiful you looked in that moment.

But despite the tenderness in your smile, Brandon couldn't shake the frustration that simmered beneath the surface. He had missed you, missed the sound of your voice and the touch of your hand, and he couldn't understand why you chose to spend so much time away from him.

"Good evening, Colonel," you greeted him politely, your tone casual and unaffected by his unexpected visit. "What brings you to my humble abode tonight?"

Brandon struggled to contain his frustration as he responded, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation. "I've come to see you, of course," he replied curtly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of emotion. "I've missed you, [Your Name]. It's been weeks since I last saw you, and I couldn't bear to spend another night alone in our bed."

Your smile faltered slightly at his words, a flash of guilt crossing your features when you met his gaze. You knew you had been neglecting him, consumed by your own thoughts and passions, but you hadn't realized just how much your absence had affected him. Pushing aside your feelings of guilt, you tried to divert the conversation, eager to steer clear of any discussion about your relationship.

"So, Colonel," you began, your voice light and cheerful as you gestured towards the telescope beside you. "Have you ever gazed upon the stars and wondered about the mysteries of the universe? It's truly fascinating how much we have yet to discover out there."

But Brandon wasn't so easily swayed by your attempt to change the subject. He could sense the underlying tension between you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air, and he knew they needed to be addressed.

"Indeed, the stars are a wonder to behold," Brandon replied diplomatically, his tone measured as he studied your expression. "But I believe there are matters closer to home that require our attention."

You paused at that, your smile fading as you met Brandon's earnest gaze. His words hung between you, heavy with unspoken implications, and you knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer.

"What do you mean, Colonel?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension as you braced yourself for his response.

Brandon took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he met your eyes with unwavering determination. "I married you for one reason, and one reason only: to have heirs," he said bluntly, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "And how can we achieve that if the two of us barely see each other?"

You stopped at that, your gaze locking with his as you took in the gravity of his words. For a moment, you felt a pang of guilt at your own negligence, knowing that you had failed to uphold your end of the bargain. But then, a sense of determination washed over you as you realized what Brandon was implying.

Was he demanding that you fulfill your duty as a wife? Did he want... sex?

The thought made Brandon blush slightly, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as he struggled to articulate his desires. But you weren't embarrassed; you were a 28-year-old woman, well aware of the implications of marital intimacy. Despite never having been intimate with a man before Brandon, you had spent enough time reading and learning from your already married sisters to understand the mechanics of such encounters.

And your first time with Brandon had been surprisingly pleasant. He had been kind and patient with you, guiding you through the experience with a gentle touch and reassuring words. In the aftermath, you had distanced yourself from him, convinced that it was for his own protection. But now, faced with his unspoken request, you realized that you couldn't continue to avoid him indefinitely.

With a resolute nod, you dropped the notebook in your hand and approached Brandon, closing the distance between you with determined steps. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as you reached out to touch his cheek, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw with a tender touch.

"Why not start today, then?" you suggested softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After all, it is our duty as husband and wife to fulfill each other's needs, is it not?"

Brandon's blush deepened at your boldness, but he nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and embarrassment. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure of how to proceed.

You took the initiative, stepping closer to him until there was barely an inch of space between your bodies. Leaning in, you captured his lips in a gentle kiss, your heart racing with anticipation as you felt Brandon respond eagerly, his arms encircling you in a warm embrace.

And as you melted into his embrace, you knew that despite the unconventional nature of your marriage, you were determined to honor your side of the bargain. After all, you were both bound by duty and obligation, and it was time to fulfill the promises you had made to each other, no matter the cost.

As Brandon and you stood in the dimly lit cabin, the air thick with anticipation, he couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation mingled with desire. His heart still belonged to Marianne, his unrequited love for her a constant ache in his chest. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw more than just a means to an end; he saw a woman who deserved his respect and consideration, despite the circumstances of their marriage.

With gentle hands, Brandon began to undress you, his touch tender and reverent as he revealed your delicate form beneath the fabric. He couldn't help but admire the curve of your body, the softness of your skin, as he trailed kisses along your neck and collarbone, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You responded eagerly to his touch, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him to explore every inch of your body. Brandon's heart raced with excitement as he felt your arousal building, his own desire growing with each soft moan that escaped your lips.

As Brandon guided you to the bed, he felt a surge of anticipation coursing through him, his body responding instinctively to the intimacy between you. He couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at being so close to you, the warmth of your skin against his own igniting a fire within him that he hadn't felt in years.

With practiced hands, Brandon explored your body with a gentle touch, his fingers tracing patterns of desire along your skin as he elicited soft gasps and moans from your lips. He marveled at the way you responded to his touch, the way your body arched and trembled beneath him, as if seeking more of his affection.

And when he finally entered you, it was with a reverence and tenderness that took your breath away. Brandon moved slowly, savoring each moment as he lost himself in the sensation of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. He felt a sense of connection with you that he hadn't experienced in years, a bond forged in the heat of their shared passion.

But even as Brandon surrendered himself to the pleasure of their union, his thoughts strayed to Marianne, his beloved lost to him forever. He couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to make love to her, to hear her soft moans of pleasure as he brought her to the heights of ecstasy.

But Marianne didn't want him, that much was clear. Despite Brandon's unwavering love and devotion to her, she had chosen another, leaving him with a heart heavy with sorrow and longing. But Brandon was a man of honor, and he knew that he had to be content with what he had, which was you.

You, the woman whose mind was plagued by bouts of madness and unpredictability, yet whose heart was filled with kindness and compassion. And as Brandon lay beside you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of their lovemaking, he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over him. He knew that he should be focusing on fulfilling his duty as a husband, on siring heirs to carry on his legacy, but a part of him couldn't deny the pleasure he found in being with you.

But even as Brandon reveled in the intimacy between you, he couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that gnawed at him. He knew that his feelings for you were born out of necessity rather than passion, that he was simply using you to fulfill his own needs. And yet, a part of him couldn't help but enjoy the pleasure you brought him, the warmth of your body against his own.

As the days went by, Brandon found himself spending more and more time in your company, seeking solace and companionship in your presence. He tried to convince himself that it was all in service of their shared goal of starting a family, but deep down, he knew that he enjoyed being with you, in spite of everything.

He admired your resilience and admired your intelligence and creativity, seeing beyond the surface to the kind and compassionate woman beneath. You, in turn, found solace in Brandon's presence, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding. He treated you with kindness and respect, never once judging you for your eccentricities, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him for accepting you as you were.

But as the saying goes, all good things are short-lived, and Brandon saw this firsthand when he witnessed one of your episodes of madness. One night, he woke up to the sound of whispers and found you in the bedroom, talking to yourself and drawing on the wall.

Brandon's heart clenched with concern as he approached you hesitantly, calling out your name in a gentle tone. But when you turned to him, your eyes unfocused and distant, he realized that you didn't recognize him.

"Are you Venus?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper as you regarded him with a mixture of awe and confusion.

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the realization dawning on him that you didn't recognize him as your husband. He took a step closer to you, his voice calm and reassuring as he reminded you of his true identity.

"No, my dear, I'm Colonel Christopher Brandon, your husband," he replied softly, his eyes pleading with you to see reason. "Please, come back to me."

But you shook your head stubbornly, dropping the chalk in your hand as you turned away from him, your mind set on a singular purpose. Ignoring Brandon's protests, you left the bedroom, navigating the dark hallways of the mansion with determined strides.

Brandon followed close behind you, his heart pounding with fear and anxiety as he called out to you, hoping to bring you back to your senses. But you paid him no heed, your mind consumed by delusions of Venus coming to take you away.

As you stepped out into the garden, your eyes fixed on the starry sky above, you spotted the bright gleam of Venus shining in the darkness. With a sense of urgency, you called out to the celestial body, your voice filled with longing and desperation.

"Venus, my love, please come get me," you pleaded, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night. "I'm ready to go with you."

Your screams alerted the mansion's employees, who came rushing outside to see what was causing the commotion. Brandon watched helplessly as you shed your nightgown, revealing your naked body to the world as you continued to call out for Venus.

Unable to stand idly by any longer, Brandon sprang into action, moving to cover you. But you pushed him away angrily, refusing to let anyone come between you and your imagined lover.

"Get away from me!" you cried, your voice tinged with frustration as you brushed him aside. "Venus will come for me, you'll see!"

Seeing that you were beyond reason, Brandon turned to the servants, instructing them to fetch a blanket to cover you. The maids obeyed without question, rushing to fulfill his command as Brandon's butler stepped forward to assist in calming you down.

But despite their efforts, you continued to scream and cry out for Venus, your mind lost to the grips of madness. It wasn't until Brandon made a bold declaration that you finally seemed to calm down, your eyes focusing on him with a newfound clarity.

"I am Venus," Brandon announced firmly, his voice filled with conviction as he met your gaze with unwavering determination.

For a moment, you stared at him in confusion, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, you seemed to accept his words, your body relaxing as you allowed the maids to cover you with a blanket.

Brandon wrapped the blanket around you protectively, his heart heavy with relief as he gazed down at you with a mix of sadness and concern. Taking your hand in his, he led you toward the cabin, his mind racing with thoughts of how best to care for you in the coming days.

As you walked beside him, your gaze fixed on him with newfound adoration and confusion, you couldn't help but question the reality of the situation. Was Brandon truly Venus, the god of love and desire, come to whisk you away to a world of eternal bliss? Or was he simply a mortal man, doing his best to care for you in your time of need?

"Are you really Venus?" you asked hesitantly, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you looked up at him for answers.

Brandon met your gaze with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with warmth and compassion as he squeezed your hand reassuringly. "Yes, my dear," he replied softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I am Venus, and I'm here to take care of you."

And as you clung to him, expressing your belief that he was Venus and how you had waited so long for him to come for you, Brandon felt a pang of sadness tug at his heart. He did not like the hope he saw in your eyes, the desperate longing for happiness that seemed to radiate from your every word. While he was relieved that you finally seemed content, he could not help but feel conflicted about perpetuating the illusion that he was Venus.

Leading you gently to the cabin, Brandon guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you as you looked at him with such love and adoration, still addressing him as Venus. The realization that the duke and duchess hadn't mentioned this aspect of your condition left Brandon feeling unsettled. He had been led to believe that you were simply isolated in your cabin, dealing with your episodes of madness alone, but he hadn't expected this level of delusion.

Should he continue to play along with your delusions, maintaining the facade of being the god of love in order to keep you calm and prevent any further aggression? Or should he confront the reality of the situation, risking triggering another episode?

Sighing inwardly, Brandon decided to prioritize your well-being above all else. For now, it seemed best to go along with your belief that he was Venus, at least until he could figure out how to help you through this latest episode.

"Of course, my dear," Brandon replied softly, his voice filled with warmth and compassion as he took your hands in his. "I have waited for you just as eagerly. Now that we are together, I am here to take care of you, always."

Gently, Brandon helped you lay down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you to keep you warm. He listened quietly as you spoke, your words filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. You reached out to him, pleading for Venus to take you to the stars, to make you happy and relieve you of the burden you felt you were to others.

"Venus, my love, please take me away with you," you murmured, your voice soft and filled with longing. "I want to love you, and if you love me in return, I won't be a burden to anyone anymore."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your voice cutting him to the core. He wanted to reach out to you, to comfort you and reassure you that you were not a burden, but he knew that now was not the time for such revelations. Instead, he remained silent, his gaze filled with compassion and understanding as he listened to your pleas.

"I understand, my dear," Brandon said softly, his voice gentle as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Venus loves you deeply, and he would never see you as a burden. You bring light and joy to his world, and he cherishes every moment he spends with you."

Your eyes shone with tears as you looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you found solace in Brandon's words, finding comfort in the belief that Venus was there to guide you to happiness.

"Thank you, Venus," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude as you closed your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of sleep. "I love you."

Brandon watched over you as you drifted off to sleep, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was deceiving you, allowing you to believe in a fantasy that could never be true. But for now, all he could do was be there for you, to offer you comfort and support in whatever form you needed.

And as Brandon lay down next to you, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Despite his best efforts to reassure himself that everything would be alright, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach, a silent prayer escaping his lips as he hoped you wouldn't have another episode of madness.

Closing his eyes, Brandon tried to push aside his worries, allowing exhaustion to finally overtake him as he drifted off into a fitful sleep. But even in slumber, his mind remained troubled, haunted by visions of you lost in the throes of delusion, calling out for a love that could never be.

The next morning, Brandon awoke to the soft light filtering through the windows of the cabin, his eyes lingering on your sleeping form beside him. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the tranquility of the moment, the gentle rise and fall of your chest a reassuring presence in the stillness of the room.

But as the events of the previous night came rushing back to him, Brandon's heart clenched with guilt and sorrow. He knew that he couldn't continue to ignore the reality of your condition, that he needed to take action to ensure your well-being and safety.

With a heavy sigh, Brandon rose from the bed, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. Quietly, he dressed himself, his movements slow and deliberate as he prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead.

Leaving you sleeping in the cabin, Brandon made his way to the main residence, his mind racing with thoughts of how to best care for you in the days to come. As he entered the familiar halls of the mansion, he was greeted by the sight of the butler, who had served his family faithfully for years.

Without preamble, Brandon approached the butler, his expression grave as he relayed the events of the previous night and his concerns about your condition. He instructed the butler to pass on the information to the other servants, emphasizing the importance of treating you with kindness and understanding.

But as Brandon spoke, he couldn't help but notice the disapproving look that crossed the butler's face, a hint of disdain lingering in his gaze. It was clear that the butler harbored reservations about you and your suitability as Brandon's wife, a fact that didn't sit well with Brandon.

"Is something the matter, Jenkins?" Brandon inquired, his voice tinged with a note of concern as he regarded the butler with furrowed brows.

The butler hesitated for a moment before responding, his tone hesitant yet tinged with thinly veiled disapproval. "Forgive me, sir, but I cannot help but express my concerns regarding your choice of wife," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes darting away from Brandon's gaze.

Brandon's jaw tightened at the butler's words, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his frustration. He knew that the butler's opinion held weight among the household staff, and he couldn't afford to have any doubts cast upon your character or his decision to marry you.

"I understand your reservations, Jenkins, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from passing judgment on [Your Name]," Brandon replied evenly, his voice laced with a hint of steel. "She is my wife, and I expect her to be treated with the respect and dignity she deserves."

Jenkins bowed his head slightly, a contrite expression crossing his features as he acknowledged Brandon's reprimand. "Forgive me, sir," he murmured apologetically. "I spoke out of turn. It's just... I never imagined that you would choose to marry someone like her."

Brandon's jaw clenched at Jenkins's words, his anger flaring anew at the implication behind them. "And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his voice tinged with indignation.

Jenkins hesitated for a moment before responding, his tone hesitant yet tinged with thinly veiled disapproval. "I had heard rumors about her, sir, but I never thought they were true until last night," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes darting away from Brandon's gaze. "I cannot fathom why you would willingly take on such an unnecessary burden, sir. It would have been far wiser for you to marry Miss Dashwood."

As the butler's words hung in the air, Brandon felt a surge of frustration bubbling within him. How dare Jenkins question his choice of wife, especially in such a callous manner? Suppressing his anger, Brandon took a deep breath, his voice measured as he addressed the butler once more.

"Jenkins, I understand that you may have reservations, but it is not your place to pass judgment on my decisions," Brandon stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I married [Your Name] out of necessity, not out of choice. Miss Dashwood made her feelings clear to me, and I must respect her decision. As for [Your Name], she may be a burden, but she is a necessary one. I need a wife to conceive children, and she is the one I have chosen for that purpose."

There was a heavy silence in the room as Brandon's words sank in, his gaze never wavering from Jenkins's face. He could see the butler's discomfort, the conflict evident in his expression as he struggled to come to terms with Brandon's assertion.

But before Jenkins could respond, Brandon felt a shift in the atmosphere behind him. Turning around, he was met with the sight of you standing in the doorway, dressed in men's clothes, your expression unreadable as you listened to the conversation unfolding before you.

For a moment, Brandon's heart clenched with guilt at the thought of you overhearing the disparaging remarks about you. He opened his mouth to call out to you, to explain himself and reassure you of his commitment, but you brushed him off tiredly, expressing your need to retreat to your cabin for a few days.

"If the servants could bring me something to eat, I would be grateful," you added, your tone weary as you turned away from him and made your way towards the cabin. You were tired—tired of the constant struggles with your own mind, tired of being a burden to those around you, and tired of the expectations placed upon you as Colonel Brandon's wife.

Brandon followed closely behind you, his brow furrowed with worry as he tried to catch up to you. "Please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "I didn't mean for you to overhear that conversation. You're not a burden, [Your Name]. You're my wife, and I care about you deeply."

But you kept walking, your steps determined as you refused to meet his gaze. "It's okay, Colonel," you replied softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "We didn't marry for love, that much was always clear. You don't have to explain anything to me."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the weight of your resignation heavy on his shoulders. He reached out to you, his hand hovering over your shoulder, but you shrugged him off gently, your eyes filled with sadness.

"I know I've always been a burden to everyone," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I always will be. But I'll fulfill my role in our agreement, Colonel. And I'll try not to be such a big burden to you."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your tone piercing him to the core. He wanted to reach out to you, to tell you that you were more than just a burden to him, but he knew that now was not the time for such declarations.

Instead, he watched helplessly as you disappeared into the cabin, the door closing softly behind you with a finality that left him feeling hollow inside. For a moment, he stood there in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have been and what still might be.

But as the days turned into weeks, Brandon found himself growing increasingly restless in your absence. He missed you, deeply, your presence a balm to his weary soul in the midst of life's uncertainties. And so, despite his reservations, he found himself seeking you out, longing to be near you once more.

Every night, he would wait for you to come to him, the anticipation building with each passing hour until he could no longer bear the silence of the empty bed. And when you finally arrived, he would hold you close, cherishing every moment of your fleeting embrace before the morning light came to steal you away once more.

Today was another one of those nights, and you arrived at the agreed time, wasting no time in starting to undress your male clothes, as you always did every night, while Brandon waited for you in bed, watching you undress, revealing your body to him. The routine had become familiar, almost comforting, in its predictability.

As you climbed into bed with him, Brandon couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched into your features. He longed to hold you close, to lose himself in the warmth of your embrace, but he knew that tonight was different. Tonight, he needed to talk to you, to address the elephant in the room that had been looming over their marriage for far too long.

"Are you alright, [Your Name]?" Brandon asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "You seem tired."

You sighed wearily, the weight of the day's events settling heavily on your shoulders. "I'm fine, Colonel," you replied, forcing a smile despite the fatigue evident in your voice. "Just a little tired, that's all."

Brandon studied you intently, his gaze searching your face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. He wanted you, desperately, but he could see the weariness in your eyes, the toll that their arrangement was taking on you.

"Perhaps we could talk before... before we... make babies," Brandon suggested tentatively, his words carefully chosen as he broached the delicate subject. "I know it wasn't what we originally agreed upon, but I can't help but feel like we should talk to get to know each other better."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the opportunity to postpone the inevitable for a little while longer. Pulling the covers over yourself to protect yourself from the cold of the night, you settled into the bed beside Brandon, your mind racing with thoughts of what you were going to talk about.

Brandon turned to look at you, his expression softening with affection as he regarded you. "How did you... how did you start to like astronomy?" he asked, his tone gentle as he broached the topic of conversation.

You smiled at the question, a fondness evident in your eyes as you recalled your childhood fascination with the stars. "For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated by astronomy," you confessed, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I found a telescope in my grandfather's things when I was a child, and ever since then, I've been hooked. There's just something about gazing up at the night sky that fills me with wonder and awe."

Brandon nodded, captivated by the passion in your voice as you spoke. He admired your thirst for knowledge, your willingness to pursue your interests despite the constraints placed upon you by society. In that moment, he felt a surge of affection for you, a newfound appreciation for the depth of your character.

"It sounds like you had quite the adventurous childhood," Brandon remarked, his tone laced with admiration. "Your parents must have been quite liberal in letting you learn whatever you wanted."

You nodded in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recalled the support and encouragement you had received from your parents throughout the years. "Yes, they were," you replied, a hint of pride evident in your voice. "They always encouraged me to follow my passions, no matter where they led me."

Brandon's heart swelled with affection as he listened to you speak, the warmth of your words washing over him like a soothing balm. He liked how you lit up, the sparkle in your eyes when you talked about astronomy. He found himself captivated by the passion and enthusiasm in your voice, admiring the way you spoke with such fervor about something that brought you joy. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, a glimpse into the depths of your soul that left him feeling strangely drawn to you.

But as the conversation shifted, Brandon hesitated, his brow furrowing with concern as he broached a more sensitive topic. "When did your... episodes of madness start?" he asked tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched your eyes for answers.

The heat in your eyes disappeared as the tiredness returned, and you fell silent, your gaze drifting away from his as you struggled to find the words to explain. It was a painful subject, one that you had long tried to bury deep within yourself, but you knew that Brandon deserved to know the truth.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come as you recounted the events that had changed your life forever. "It all started when I was 15," you began softly, your voice tinged with sadness. "I was out riding with my father and brothers when my horse was startled by a snake. I fell off and... I hit my head on a rock."

You paused, the memories flooding back with painful clarity as you struggled to compose yourself. "I don't remember much after that," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "But my brothers told me that I was in a coma for five days before I woke up."

Brandon listened intently, his heart aching with sympathy as he imagined the pain and confusion you must have felt during that traumatic time. "And then?" he prompted gently, his voice barely above a whisper as he waited for you to continue.

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek as you recalled the horrors that followed. "Things were normal for a few days," you admitted reluctantly. "But then... the first episode of madness began."

Brandon's heart clenched with sorrow at your words, his mind racing with questions and concerns. "What... what kind of treatments did you undergo?" he asked softly, his voice filled with apprehension as he braced himself for your response.

But you shook your head, the pain evident in your eyes as you diverted the conversation. "I... I don't think you want to know," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not something I like to talk about."

Brandon's heart ached with frustration at your reluctance to share, but he knew that now was not the time to press you further. Instead, he reached out to you, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with reassurance. "But know that I'm here for you, [Your Name]. Whatever you need, whatever you're going through, I'm here."

You melted into his embrace, the warmth of his words washing over you like a soothing balm. In that moment, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you, a glimmer of light in the darkness that surrounded you.

With a soft sigh of contentment, you pulled Brandon closer, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss as you whispered softly against his mouth. "Don't make me wait any longer, Colonel," you murmured, your voice filled with longing. "Let's just get this over with."

Brandon's heart skipped a beat at your words, his desire for you burning hotter than ever as he surrendered himself to the passion of your embrace. In that moment, there was only you and him, lost in the intensity of their shared desire as they sought solace in each other's arms.

Brandon pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he guided you onto his lap beneath the covers. You followed his lead, straddling him with your hands pressed against his chest, your lips meeting his in a hungry kiss that conveyed all the pent-up desire between you.

The kiss was intense, fueled by a longing that had been building between you for far too long. Your tongues danced together in a passionate tango, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

Finally breaking away from the kiss, you reached between your bodies, your hand wrapping around Brandon's hard length as you positioned yourself above him. With a breathy sigh, you guided him to your entrance, the anticipation of being filled by him sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

Brandon groaned softly as he felt you take him in hand, his desire for you reaching a fever pitch as he watched you sink down onto him. He was big and you weren't quite wet enough to receive him fully. But the sensation of being stretched by him was exhilarating, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure as you sank down onto his cock.

As you sat down completely on him, a low, guttural moan escaped Brandon's lips, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he relished the feeling of being buried deep inside you. And when you moaned his name in a breathy whisper—Christopher—Brandon's heart skipped a beat, his desire for you reaching new heights at the sound of his name on your lips.

"God, [Your Name]," Brandon breathed, his voice thick with desire as he savored the sensation of you surrounding him. "You feel so good, so tight around me."

You whimpered in response, the pleasure of having him inside you overwhelming as you began to move your hips in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, the pleasure building with each passing moment as you surrendered yourself to the intensity of your union.

Brandon matched your movements with his own, his hands guiding you as you rode him with increasing urgency. He could feel the tension building within you, the need for release growing more urgent by the second as you chased the elusive peak of pleasure together.

And as you continued bouncing on Brandon's dick, you experimented with new movements, gyrating your hips and watching the pleasure written all over his face. It was a sight that books and stories of your married sisters' experiences could never fully describe—the indescribable pleasure of seeing Brandon lost in ecstasy, his features contorted with pleasure as you rode him with abandon.

He was absolutely beautiful, his handsome face twisted in pleasure as he surrendered himself to the pleasure you were providing him. But despite his beauty and kindness, you pushed aside any thoughts of unworthiness, focusing only on the here and now with Brandon, on the pleasure you both felt.

Taking his hands that were on your waist, you guided them closer together, intertwining your fingers with his as you held his hands above his head. The feeling of his strong hands in yours only fueled your desire further, adding an element of intimacy to your passionate encounter.

And as you continued to ride him, lost in the sensation of being filled by him, you couldn't help but let out a torrent of praise and moans, your voice echoing through the room in a symphony of pleasure. And Brandon loved every moment of it, reveling in the sound of your moans and the sweet compliments you bestowed upon him.

"You feel so good, Christopher," you gasped, your voice filled with longing as you rocked your hips against his. "I never want this to end."

Brandon's heart swelled with pride at your words, his desire for you burning hotter than ever as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your union. "You're amazing, [Your Name]," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he watched you move above him.

You smiled at his words, your heart overflowing with love for him as you continued to ride him with increasing urgency. You let go of Brandon's hands, your fingers curling into his chest as you rode him harder, your movements fueled by a desperate need for release. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the tension building with each passing moment as you chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.

Brandon watched you with rapt attention, his eyes filled with desire as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your union. He groaned softly as he felt you tighten around him, the sensation driving him closer to the edge with each passing moment.

At the sight of you throwing your head back in ecstasy, Brandon felt his own climax approaching rapidly. With a guttural moan of pleasure, he let go of all restraint, surrendering himself completely to the overwhelming sensation of release. As you reached climax, your body shuddering with the intensity of your pleasure, Brandon held you close, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he supported your weight. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he rode out the waves of his orgasm with you.

And as he came deep inside you, filling you with his seed, you felt a surge of contentment wash over you, knowing that you had given him everything he desired. You melted into his embrace, your bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs as you basked in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

As you both calmed down, Brandon pulled you to lie down next to him, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he held you close. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. But as Brandon fell asleep beside you, a wave of sadness washed over you, threatening to engulf you in its depths. You knew that your relationship with Brandon was built on a foundation of duty and obligation, not love. He had made it clear that you were here just to give him children, nothing more.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling empty and hollow inside. You didn't deserve him, you didn't deserve Brandon's love. He was kind and compassionate, everything you could ever want in a partner, but you knew that he would never love you the way you longed to be loved.

And as you stood up to get dressed, ignoring the sticky remnants of his cum running down your thighs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over you. You cast one last look at Brandon's sleeping form, the ache in your heart growing more unbearable with each passing moment.

But as you turned away, tears streaming down your cheeks, you made a silent vow to yourself. You would bury your feelings deep within yourself, locking them away where no one could find them. You would continue to fulfill your duty as Brandon's wife, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness in the process.

With a heavy heart, you slipped into your clothes and made your way back to your cabin, back to your books, and your stars. It was the only solace you had left, the only thing that could distract you from the pain of knowing that you would never have the love you so desperately craved.

Brandon woke up the next morning with a satisfied sigh, his body still tingling with the lingering sensations of their passionate encounter from the night before. He reached out instinctively, his arm seeking the warmth of your body as he pulled you close, his heart swelling with affection at the thought of waking up beside you.

But to his dismay, Brandon's hand met only empty space, his fingers brushing against the cool fabric of the pillow beneath him. Confusion clouded his mind for a moment as he blinked away the remnants of sleep, his eyes scanning the room in search of you.

And then, with a sinking feeling in his chest, Brandon realized the truth—you were gone. Once again, you had left him alone in the marital bed, slipping away in the darkness of the night without so much as a goodbye.

Disappointment washed over Brandon like a tidal wave, his heart heavy with the weight of your absence. He had hoped that last night's passionate encounter would bring you closer together, that it would be a step towards building a deeper connection between you.

But as he lay there in the empty bed, Brandon couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that settled over him like a shroud. He longed for your presence, for the warmth of your body pressed against his, but he knew that you were gone, leaving him to face another day alone.

With a heavy sigh, Brandon turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a sense of resignation. He was tired of this—tired of the constant cycle of intimacy followed by solitude, tired of feeling like he was always left wanting more.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Brandon knew that he couldn't continue like this. He had to talk to you, to address the underlying issues that were driving you apart. He couldn't keep ignoring the elephant in the room, pretending that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.

And so, with a sense of determination, Brandon promised himself that he would broach the subject with you when you came over again that night. He couldn't let things continue like this, couldn't let the distance between you grow any further.

But for now, Brandon pushed aside his worries, forcing himself to focus on the tasks at hand. There were duties to attend to, responsibilities to fulfill, and he couldn't afford to let his personal struggles interfere with his professional life.

With a deep breath, Brandon pushed himself out of bed, steeling himself for the day ahead. He didn't know what the future held for him and you, but he knew that he couldn't keep living like this, trapped in a cycle of longing and disappointment.

Brandon longed for more than just stolen moments in the dead of night; he wanted to be with you, truly and completely, in every sense of the word. And so, he resolved to confront you, to lay bare his heart and soul in the hopes of finding solace in your arms once more.

And so, on that fateful night, as the hours stretched on without any sign of your arrival, Brandon found himself growing increasingly anxious. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that you needed him now more than ever.

With a sense of urgency, Brandon made his way to the cabin, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepared himself for what he might find inside. And when he entered, he was met with the sight of you lost in another one of your episodes, drawing intricate constellations on the wooden floor as you mumbled to yourself.

"[Your Name], it's me, Christopher," he called out softly, his voice filled with concern as he approached you cautiously. "Can you hear me? It's going to be alright, I'm here."

You looked at him and smiled, beckoning him closer. Brandon realized that you weren't in one of your manic episodes, at least it didn't seem like it. He approached cautiously, a mix of relief and confusion flooding his senses. "What are you doing?" he asked gently, his concern evident in his voice.

You glanced up at him, your eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm drawing my favorite constellations," you replied, a hint of excitement in your tone. "The sky is beautiful tonight, don't you think?"

Brandon felt a surge of frustration bubbling within him, his worry dissipating into annoyance. "That's it?" he exclaimed, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "You didn't come to me because you were drawing constellations?"

You looked at him, confusion clouding your features as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to dishonor our agreement, but I just... I lost track of time."

But your words only seemed to frustrate Brandon even more, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to comprehend your actions. "Is that all this is to you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Just a deal?"

You looked at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "How should I see it then?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Brandon looked away, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "Maybe... maybe I want something more," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I... I think I'm in love with you."

You interrupted him, shaking your head in disbelief as you backed away from him. "No," you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness. "You barely talk to me, Colonel. How could you possibly love me?"

But Brandon insisted, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes with determination. "I see you, [Your Name]," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I see you helping the servants when you're not alone in the cabin. I see how you light up when you talk about astronomy, how passionate you are about the stars. And those nighttime conversations we have... they mean more to me than you'll ever know."

You remained skeptical, your gaze fixed on him with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "You can't love me," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away from him. "It would be better if you extinguished that love now, before it consumes you. Fall in love with another woman, but not with me."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your voice cutting him to the core. "No," he protested, reaching out to you desperately. "I don't want to be in love with anyone else. I want to be with you, [Your Name]. Please, let me show you how much you mean to me."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say. "I heard rumors that Marianne Dashwood will no longer marry John Willoughby," you explained, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe you can ask for an annulment of our marriage, claiming that I am crazy, so you are free to go after Marianne."

Brandon's eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "How do you know about Marianne?" he questioned, his tone laced with disbelief. "And why would you suggest such a thing?"

You smiled sadly at him, the weight of your words heavy on your heart. "I heard Jenkins happily commenting on this with other employees," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "He seemed eager to see you away from me."

Brandon's expression darkened at the mention of Jenkins, his frustration mounting as he struggled to come to terms with the implications of your words. "Jenkins has no right to meddle in our affairs," he muttered, his voice tinged with anger. "And Marianne... Marianne is not the solution to our problems."

You looked at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you processed his words. "But you love her, don't you?" you questioned softly, a hint of sadness in your tone.

Brandon's gaze softened as he met your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity. "I thought I did, once," he admitted quietly. "But that was before I met you."

You looked at him, disbelief written all over your face. "But how can that be?" you questioned, confusion evident in your voice. "I'm nothing like Marianne. I'm not beautiful, or charming, or witty."

Brandon reached out to you, gently cupping your face in his hands as he met your gaze with unwavering determination. "You may not be Marianne, but you are everything to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You are kind, compassionate, and brave. And who says you're not beautiful? You are simply stunning."

You push Brandon's hand away, your heart heavy with disbelief and self-doubt. "You don't know what you're talking about," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a crazy woman, Colonel. You shouldn't waste your time on me."

But Brandon refuses to back down, his eyes filled with sincerity as he reaches out to you once more. "It doesn't matter if you're crazy or not," he insists, his voice unwavering. "You're my wife, don't you see? I want you, all of you."

You shake your head in disbelief, unable to comprehend his words. "But why?" you question, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "Why would you want someone like me?"

Brandon's expression softens as he looks at you, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Because you're you," he replies simply, his voice filled with conviction. "You're kind, and compassionate, and brave. And I... I think I'm falling in love with you."

You stare at him in shock, unable to believe what you're hearing. "But Marianne..." you begin, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.

Brandon interrupts you gently, his voice filled with understanding. "Marianne sent me letters, asking me to visit her," he admits quietly. "But I refused, because... because of you. I want to explore this love, this connection that I feel with you. Marianne is not the solution to our problems. You are. Give me an occupation, [Your Name], or I shall run mad.”

Tears fill your eyes as you look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "I don't deserve you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you turn away from him.

But Brandon refuses to let you retreat into your self-doubt, reaching out to you and gently turning you back to face him. "It doesn't matter," he insists, his voice filled with determination. "It doesn't matter if you think you're not worthy of love. Because to me, you're everything."

You meet his gaze, your heart aching with longing and uncertainty. "But what if I have another episode?" you question hesitantly, your voice tinged with fear.

Brandon's expression softens, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "Then we'll face it together," he replies softly. "I'll be by your side, every step of the way. Because you're not alone, [Your Name]. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

You look away, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The weight of Brandon's words hangs heavy in the air, his vulnerability laid bare before you. You want to say something, to reassure him of your feelings, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the fear and uncertainty that have plagued you for so long.

Brandon waits patiently for you to speak, his gaze searching yours for any sign of understanding. But when you remain silent, a defeated look crosses his features, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

"Maybe... maybe it's you who doesn't love me," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation.

You feel a pang of guilt at his words, a surge of emotion welling up inside you as you struggle to find the courage to speak. But then, before you can stop yourself, the words spill from your lips in a rush of emotion.

"No, Christopher, it's not that," you interject, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love you. How could I not, after all the kindness you've shown me? There aren't enough stars in the sky to quantify how deeply I've fallen for you."

You pause, taking a shaky breath as you gather your thoughts. Weeks ago, when you overheard Brandon referring to you as a necessary burden, it had shattered your heart. You had never wanted to be seen as a burden to him, but your madness seemed to make it unavoidable.

"But I know that I can't make you happy," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "But Marianne... she's young and beautiful. She'll have a much better chance of giving you children and making you happy. And the employees will like her. It will be better that way. I will no longer be a burden to you."

Tears fill your eyes as you speak, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. You know that this is your destiny, to fade into the background, with only the stars for company.

Brandon listens to you in silence, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. When you finish speaking, he reaches out to you, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"You are not a burden, [Your Name]," he whispers softly, his voice filled with conviction. "And I don't want anyone else. I want you, just as you are. Marianne may have her charms, but she's not you. And I love you."

You look up at him, disbelief written all over your face. "But why?" you question, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Brandon smiles tenderly at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Because you're you," he replies simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "And that's all I need."

#colonel brandon #alan rickman #marianne dashwood #sense and sensibility #colonel brandon x reader #alan rickman x reader #oc

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halfhoursonearth-writes · 10 months ago

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Can you recommend fanfiction that you personally really like?

Yes! Love this ask. I’ve never made a Zutara fic rec list partially because I’ve read so many wonderful stories over time that I find the prospect daunting!

But there are absolutely certain stories that I have a personal soft spot for, that I return to again and again. And that’s my criteria for what’s included below. This is a sampling of fics that I find myself coming back to, in no particular order. I may come back and add more, because this list is so far from exhaustive. A mix of ratings (marked), so keep that in mind.

Wish I Was the Moon by Like a Dove (T), post-canon: There’s so much that I love about the way this one-shot explores Katara’s character and what she faces post-canon, how she frees herself, strikes out in the world and finds her way home. Her feelings for Zuko, and her inner-conflict around them, are rendered tangibly, both through scene and subtext. A really good example of how an author can show a character’s lack of/journey to self-knowledge without breaking voice.

Refraction by caroes3725 (E), post-canon: When I started reading Zutara fanfic (for me this was in 2020), this was the fic I was looking for—a deep, realistic-to-canon, in-character exploration of how Zutara could unfold after the events of ATLA in a way that gives Katara in particular the arc she deserves. Really well-done development of the Fire Nation court world, well-developed characters, shining dialogue. An amazingly well-worth-it slow burn.

Wildfire by rainstormdragon (E), post-canon: To me this story is kind of a steamy Zutara thesis. The characters are so spot on and alive, their flaws are on full display in a way that feels realistic, and their chemistry is powered by their compatibility—matched in passion and stubbornness, and also in what they want from life. And I think it really gets Aang, too, which is something that can be hard to find in ZK fic. Also really hot, but that's only part of what makes it really shine.

Partners in Learning by evergreenonthehorizon (T), Modern AU: One of the things I love in modern AUs is watching an author weave that invisible string between these characters. Sometimes, it’s by writing narrative arcs that parallel the series, and sometimes it’s by drawing out the personality traits that make the characters both lovable to readers and such a compelling match and watching that spark bloom into flame. This beautifully written story does that so, so well in a really compelling Modern AU setting. Zuko and Katara here are so wonderfully lovable, and it’s a joy to watch them fall for one another, too.

Journeys by Smediterranea (E), Modern AU: In real life, I want to see my friends in relationships with people who can recognize why they’re so particularly amazing. That potential, I think, part of the appeal of ZK as a ship, and that’s part of the special magic of this fic. Watching these two characters get to know one another—really see one another—and fall in love deliciously sweeps the reader up. Plus, really fun, in character cameos from the rest of the Gaang along the way.

Spark, set fire by marijayne (T), Modern AU: literary fanfic, and I mean that in the best way. This story is beautiful and bittersweet, the latter is not often something I seek out in fanfic (where I hide from life), but here it’s gorgeous and worth it. The world building here is really cool—allows the author to explore some of a set of cultural issues/interactions that both echo the ATLA world and ours. The characters are so tenderly drawn (dadko especially)—and the connection between them builds beautifully and tangibly—and the longing is…chef’s kiss.

Wrong when it's right by nire (T), Book 1 Canon Divergence: Before I read this, I couldn't imagine wanting to read a Book 1 Zutara. After, I wanted more. Bickering, bed-roll sharing, shared heat, tenderness and common ground. A delight from start to finish.

Anyway, thanks for asking and happy reading! <3 And if you want more recs, let me know.

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #zutara fanfic #zutara fic recs #zutara fanfic reccomendations

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pengugu09 · 3 months ago

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THEORY TIME😍🤩🤩😢 don't share this on other media's w/o permission or credits‼️

(for those who have patreon, don't ruin my delusional gyat)

Looking back at these deleted official art by vivinos:

2/3 of the characters in this picture have already experienced smth bad (which is death)

But I want to share my opinions on this one since it just, well- strike on my mind

The characters are divided with these hearts surrounding their name with their corresponding eye color

So I'm assuming the reason why Sua and Ivan are holding an apple is prolly because it's a visual representation of who they love.

💜SUA💜

Sua is holding the apple with tender care using both of her hands just like how she have her feelings for Mizi, she treasures their relationship so much that Sua looks stressed (at the picture) since she knows the bad things that the aliens are doing in their society unlike Mizi who has a supportive and non-abusive aliens/guardians and doesn't have a clue (yet) on the negative side of these alien invasion.

When it comes to the outfit, she's wearing a princess gown.. but with a cape(?) like a superhero cape one? Is that why they deleted it because it shows a sign about the ROMH Sua ver?

"My savior, pitiful lady. Make me your god, I can give you everything"

It also shows that Sua is Mizi's inspiration, savior, or even a hero the moment they met, and have that spark even grew while she admires her.

🖤IVAN🖤

Ivan is holding the apple carefree, even smiling in the picture, showing no signs of any negative feelings (stressed, upset, anger, etc.)

This is something like- how we view Ivan base on appearance yet never know what runs on his mind behind that smile, knowing that something negative may be happening but he still keeps his calm composure about it.

As for his outfit, a charming prince, simple design for someone who has good looks

(mb I don't have anything else to say😭)

🩶HYUNA🩶

Hyuna.

She's not holding any apple. Which means that she don't have any feelings for anyone (sorry Luka) but she's doing a gun sign instead, which is foreshadowing on her situation since she got shot on her right arm.

Now, as much as possible I don't want our queen Hyuna to die at the next round but I think there's a 50/50 possibility.

That picture at the top is a picture of dead characters, but Hyuna isn't dead(?) is this foreshadowing that Hyuna is next??? Aside from being shot at her arm, we'll never know what did Mizi and Hyuna do next since there primary goal there is to save the alien stage contestants, and it's smh delayed since they got into a trouble that they never expected to happen.

On her outfit, I don't know what style is this called my bad, but she got this purple coat, black fur, and a hat with a feather on it.

PURPLE COAT. PURPLE. She's wearing a color associated with someone. (I hope that this isn't just color theory, if it is I'm going to cry)

And that someone is no one else other than:

*drum rolls*

Luka has been associated with purple in a lot of scenes.

In my opinion, Luka has a part in Hyuna's life ofc, even though Hyuna doesn't have this romantic feelings for Luka, she still values him as a childhood friend but then their relationship as they grow up begins to be complicated. (I won't explain it any further since this might become a whole ahh fanfic with how much number of the words that I've typed out)

So, I think, that Luka will be involve when something bad happen to Hyuna, but I really hope nothing bad happens to her since she has a great potential on how the story plot will go.

[might edit to correct some minor spellings or grammar]

#alien stage #alnst #alien stage till #alien stage luka #alien stage mizi #alien stage sua #alien stage hyuna #alien stage ivan #alien stage theory

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talkdutchtome · 1 year ago

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Glitch- chapter six

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader / mason mount x reader )

summary . . . when mason mount finds out that his assistant has been harbouring feelings for him for years, he makes it clear he doesn't feel the same way. but once he sees her become closer with formula 1 world champion max verstappen, he realises he may have underestimated his feelings towards the girl he has now pushed into the arms of another )

genre . . . angst )

song . . . glitch- taylor swift )

series masterlist . . . available here )

a/n . . . this isn’t proof read because between this and my uni work i’ve been staring at my laptop all day so my eyes are killing me, sorry! )

Mason's living room buzzed with the friendly banter and laughter as Y/N, Ben, Reece and Mason gathered for a night in. It had been a while since the four of them had spent time together casually, so they all found time for a night of takeaway pizza, beer and video games. The glow of the TV screen illuminated their faces, casting a warm ambiance across the room and the air was thick with the camaraderie of a makeshift FIFA tournament.

Ben and Reece started them off, their thumbs dancing across the controllers in a fierce match. It was a close call, but Ben emerged victorious, celebrated with an exaggerated victory dance that drew laughs from the others. Up next was Y/N and Mason, it was no secret that Y/N wasn’t particularly skilled in FIFA, in comparison to Mason who had dedicated a large portion of his teenage years to the game. The game had started with Mason going one goal up in a matter of seconds, however once he had seen a look of subtle disappointment spread across her face, he very slightly adjusted his play, letting her take the win. She was more than taken aback when she secured an unexpected win and Mason's mock disappointment was met with Y/N's triumphant grin, and a knowing look passed between the man and his friends as they sussed out what he had done.

As the next match kicked off between Ben and Y/N, the room echoed with a mix of playful taunts and infectious laughter. The game was fast-paced, and because Ben had no reason to let Y/N win; she quicky found herself trailing a few goals behind.

“So, Y/N, when’s your next date with Max?” Reece asked her as she was trying and failing to stop her opponent from scoring once again.

Ben, momentarily distracted from the game, swiveled his head in surprise, "Wait, you guys went on a date? Why am I always the last to know?"

Mason remained silent, observing the situation and wishing that Reece hadn’t brought up Max. Y/N, with a nervous chuckle, downplayed the encounter, "It was just a casual thing. Next time, I promise to give you a heads-up, Ben."

Reece, ever perceptive, probed further, "Any plans for a follow-up date?"

Y/N sighed, an air of disappointment trailing her words “I don’t know, we wanted to do something but it's so hard with our schedules and being so far away. He’s in the UK this weekend but with the charity gala on Sunday I’m just swamped with stuff to do.”

The sadness in Y/N’s eyes was unmissable to Mason and without a second thought he blurted out, "Why don't you invite him to the gala?" The suggestion hung in the air for a moment, and he felt a twinge of uncertainty. Reece shot him a subtle, questioning glance, recognizing the potential complications, but Mason's gaze was fixed on Y/N.

A spark of hope flickered in Y/N's eyes, and she hesitated for a moment before responding, "You don't have to do that for me, Mason."

Yet, Mason could see the excitement building in her, so he insisted, "I know I don't have to, but I want to. Invite him. It'll be a good time."

Y/N's response was a delighted squeal, and she abandoned the ongoing FIFA match with Ben to envelop Mason in a tight hug. Ben, interrupted mid-game, groaned theatrically, but Y/N didn’t even hear his complaints; too busy thanking her best friend. As she hugged Mason tightly, he couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him. Her joy was infectious, and he found solace in the simple act of having her in his arms. The comfort of their embrace was undeniable, a familiar feeling that stirred emotions he had grown accustomed to.

Yet, beneath the surface, there lingered a bittersweet tinge. Mason couldn't ignore the slight disappointment that crept in when he realized it was the thought of Max that lit up Y/N's eyes so brilliantly. He cared for her deeply, and her happiness mattered more to him than anything, even if it meant setting aside his own desires.

The evening past quicky, and soon the men found themselves alone, with Y/N going home to get an early night. The second she left though, Mason found himself getting whacked over the head semi-gently by Reece.

“Ow man what the fuck was that?” he asked, completely baffled as to what he had done to make his friend do that.

“Why the hell would you tell Y/N she can invite Max on Sunday?” Reece asked, before smacking his best friend around the head again.

“Fuck ow stop that” Mason said pushing him away and sighing “I don't really know. She looked sad, disappointed, and I wanted to cheer her up. So, I suggested she invite Max to the gala. It's not a big deal."

Reece, never one to let things slide, persisted. "You remember the last time you had to be around them together, right? And that was when they were just starting to get to know each other. Now, they've been on dates. How are you going to cope with that?"

Mason waved off the concern, a forced nonchalance in his tone. "It had been a bad few days that weekend. I'll be fine now."

Ben, chiming in with a touch of confusion, asked, "What's the problem? Y/N seems to really like Max. Isn't that a good thing? You can stop worrying about her liking you."

Mason managed a half-smile, but there was a depth of complexity in his expression. "Yeah, exactly. That's why I suggested she invite him." Despite his words, a tinge of dejection lingered, and Reece caught on. There was something more beneath the surface, but he decided not to press further in front of Ben, though as they continued their evening, he couldn't shake the feeling that Mason's nonchalant demeanor masked a more profound turmoil. He silently resolved to keep a watchful eye on his friend, sensing there might be more to Mason's emotions than he was letting on.

As Sunday approached, Y/N found herself immersed in a whirlwind of preparations for Mason's charity gala. The days leading up to the event were a blur of coordinating details, arranging decorations, and ensuring everything was in place. In the midst of her busy schedule, Y/N managed to invite Max, who enthusiastically accepted the invitation.

However, as the day of the gala arrived and Y/N finally had a moment to breathe, a wave of anxiety and anticipation washed over her. The realization that she would see Max again, especially with Mason also present, brought a mix of nerves and excitement. The thought of navigating the evening with both men in attendance added an extra layer of complexity to her emotions.

Mason, for his part, seemed to have reverted to his old self. Their interactions resumed a sense of normalcy, with one notable exception – the majority of their physical contact had faded away. Y/N understood the reasons behind this shift, but it still contributed to the charged atmosphere surrounding the gala

As Y/N adorned herself in an elegant ballgown, Mason arrived to pick her up for the gala. The moment he laid eyes on her, he was utterly gobsmacked by her beauty. A quiet awe filled the space between them as he took in her appearance.

Driving to the venue, Y/N attempted to focus on the logistical details of the event, discussing what needed to be done throughout the night. However, Mason interjected, informing her that she had the day off. He insisted that he could handle the responsibilities, emphasizing that she deserved to enjoy the evening without being burdened by work.

Surprised by his gesture, Y/N questioned his decision, pointing out the multitude of tasks that required attention. Mason simply responded, "I've got it covered. You should spend the night with Max; it wouldn't be fair to bring him here and then have you running around all night."

Grateful for his consideration, Y/N thanked him again, a genuine smile gracing her face. They stepped out of the car, and she couldn't resist giving Mason another appreciative hug before entering the venue.

Max arrived shortly after in a tailored black suit, looking effortlessly sharp. Y/N couldn't help but notice just how good he looked as he kissed her on the cheek and complimented her appearance. They made their way to the table where Mason, Reece, Ben, and Ben's girlfriend were seated. Max greeted everyone with a warm smile, shaking hands with each person. Mason, determined to appear calm and collected, reciprocated the gesture with a firm handshake.

As the night unfolded, the group engaged in lively conversation. Max, ever polite, directed his attention toward Mason, expressing genuine interest in the charity work he was involved in. Mason shared his longstanding commitment to Together for Short Lives, explaining that he had been supporting the organization since the early days of his football career. He emphasized his desire to give back and contribute to meaningful causes. Y/N chimed in, “Mason has always been so great with this stuff, I love working with someone who devotes so much time to helping people”. Mason, though modest, felt a surge of pride at Y/N's words, appreciating her admiration.

Dinner was served, and the atmosphere around the table buzzed with conversation and laughter. Y/N and Max, engrossed in their own dialogue, spoke quietly, creating an intimate space between them amidst the lively ambiance of the event. Mason couldn't help but find his attention drawn toward them, curious about the nature of their conversation. He observed Max leaning in, whispering something that prompted Y/N's laughter. The sight of her hand resting casually on Max's biceps, the way she bit her bottom lip while looking at him, stirred a complex mix of emotions in Mason. It was an involuntary response to witnessing the dynamics between them.

As Y/N and Max excused themselves to go to the bar, Mason's eyes followed their every move. He noticed Max's hand gently placed on the small of Y/N's back as they walked away. Reece, observing Mason's silent contemplation, sipped his whiskey, sensing the tension in the air. The quiet yet intense scrutiny Mason directed toward Y/N and Max didn't go unnoticed. At the bar, Mason watched with an almost laser-like focus as Y/N leaned in, whispering something to Max. The image of her cherry-red lips grazing Max's skin lingered in Mason's mind, leaving an imprint that he couldn't quite shake.

Y/N, however, was far too wrapped up in Max’s company to notice Mason’s lingering gazes. Any anxiety that she had that things between them would be awkward after she ran away from their date was quickly proved wrong, with the pair of them seemingly only getting closer.

“Have a mentioned how beautiful you look tonight Y/N” he whispered in her ear, prompting a small giggle to escape from her lips.

“Oh, only a few dozen times I think” she feigned uninterest before breaking into giggles, resting her head on the Deutchmans shoulder beside her; suddenly feeling herself becoming very flustered.

"Do you want to step outside for a bit? It's a bit crowded in there."

Max agreed, and Y/N slipped her hand into his as they strolled away from the lively gala. They found a quiet bench under the stars and sat down, the ambient sounds of the night surrounding them.

"Thank you for inviting me," Max said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I've had a lot of fun with you tonight."

Y/N smiled warmly. "I've had a great time too. I just wish we could see each other more."

Max's eyes sparkled as he responded, "I'm racing in Austria next week, I’d love for you to come along. And, I know you said you want to take things slow and I respect that, but you know, the offer to take you to Monaco is always open."

His words hung in the air, and Y/N found herself looking at him, drawn in by the magnetic connection between them. Before she could process her own actions, an unexpected surge of courage propelled her forward. Without a second thought, she leaned in, capturing Max's lips with hers. The kiss was a revelation, a moment suspended in time. Y/N felt a gentle warmth spreading through her, a tender acknowledgment of shared feelings. Max's lips were soft against hers, and the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that quiet corner under the stars.

For Y/N, the kiss was nothing short of magic. It was a sweet exploration of a newfound connection, a silent affirmation of the unspoken desires that had lingered between them. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other, and when Max deepened the kiss Y/N saw stars. As they pulled away, she couldn't help but marvel at the enchantment of that stolen moment, leaving her heart fluttering with anticipation. She had never had a kiss like that before, there was so much passion and chemistry it left her feeling a little dumbfounded.

The gala resumed its vibrant atmosphere as Y/N and Max returned, smiles adorning their faces. Unbeknownst to them, Mason's eyes were fixed on the faint smudge of red lipstick around Max's mouth. His attempt to remain calm was futile as a whirlwind of emotions swirled within him.

Max and Y/N rejoined the table, the shared moment still lingering between them. Mason, increasingly agitated, couldn't shake the unsettling sight before him. The barely-there mark on Max's face became a glaring symbol of something he couldn't fully comprehend.

Unable to contain the whirlwind of emotions, Mason downed the remainder of his whiskey in one gulp before abruptly standing up, his chair scraping against the floor. He mumbled something about needing a moment and hastily excused himself from the table. The others exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of what had transpired. Y/N, sensing that something was wrong with her best friend, began to stand up, but Reece, ever perceptive, also rose from his seat. He looked at Y/N and asked, "Mind if I go see if he's okay? I think he might need a moment."

Y/N nodded, still puzzled, and watched as Reece followed Mason out of the gala. The atmosphere at the table became tense, shrouded in uncertainty, as they all wondered what had just occurred.

Reece stepped out into the cool night, his eyes scanning the surroundings until he spotted Mason pacing in a corner, his hands running through his hair in a display of frustration and turmoil. The sight was disconcerting, and Reece quickened his pace.

As he approached, he noticed the raw emotion etched on Mason's face, a mix of anguish and vulnerability. It looked like he was about to burst into tears, and Reece could sense that something profound was troubling his friend.

"You were right," Mason's voice cracked, his eyes desperately searching for some semblance of understanding. Reece furrowed his brows, concerned about the depth of Mason's distress.

"I was right about what? What's going on, Mase?" Reece inquired; his voice laced with worry.

Mason, unable to contain the storm of emotions within him, continued to pace, his fists clenched in frustration. "I can't watch him all over her, I can't. I fucking love her, mate, and I don't know what to do. I pushed her away; I pushed her into him. I was scared, and I panicked, and I've ruined everything."

Reece felt a wave of shock wash over him. Mason's raw confession about his feelings for Y/N was unexpected, and it left him grappling with the weight of his friend's emotional turmoil. As much as Reece wanted to comfort his friend his frustration surged to the surface as he spoke, a mix of concern and disappointment evident in his voice. "Mase, I don't want to be harsh, but you've got to get your act together," he urged, his eyes piercing through the darkness.

Mason, taken aback by Reece's directness, listened intently, unsure of what was about to unfold.

"You treated Y/N so unfairly when you found out about how she felt. You pushed her away, and it broke her," Reece continued, his tone unwavering. "She loved you, and you found out, told her she ruined everything. She would never tell you this, but that broke her."

Mason's expression shifted from surprise to a dawning realization of the impact of his actions.

Reece, not mincing words, pressed on. "If she's found somebody that makes her happy, then if you're her friend, if you really care about her, then you will shut your mouth and not tell her any of this. It's not fair. I know you've known her longer than me, but anyone can see that she is the sweetest girl in the world. And no matter what or who comes along, she will always love you. She deserves to be happy, and if Max makes her happy, then let her be happy with him. Don't confuse her with your feelings, not now. Not after what you did."

The weight of Reece's words hung in the air, and before Before Mason could respond to Reece's blunt but necessary words, Y/N and Max approached, their entwined hands a visual testament to the complexity of Mason's emotions. “Hey guys, I think we’re going to head off if tha-” she started before

observing the tension etched across Mason's face, and immediately picking up on the strained atmosphere. Her concern seeped into her voice as she inquired, "What's going on, guys?"

Mason hesitated, teetering on the edge of transparency. His gaze flitted between Y/N and Reece, contemplating whether to lay bare his inner turmoil. However, as he looked at Y/N standing beside Max, Reece's earlier counsel echoed in his mind. He realized that now wasn't the time to burden her with his feelings.

A forced smile appeared on Mason's face as he replied, "Everything's perfectly fine." Y/N, unconvinced, began to ask again, but Mason, interrupting her, expressed gratitude, "Thank you both for coming. Max, your generous donation means a lot. It was lovely to see you again."

Y/N's perceptive eyes searched Mason's face, detecting something amiss. However, Reece subtly signaled to let it go. With a parting goodbye, Y/N walked away with Max's arm around her waist.

Mason watched them leave, the internal struggle vivid on his face. The desire to run after her and ask her to stay battled with the understanding that letting her find happiness, even if it wasn't with him, was the right thing to do.

Max navigated the city streets, his fingers lightly tapping on the steering wheel as he drove Y/N back to her apartment. The car's interior cocooned them in a tranquil atmosphere, the hum of the engine blending with the soft music playing from the radio. As they merged into traffic, Max couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. "Mason seemed really bothered by something tonight," he remarked, glancing at Y/N. She nodded, her brow furrowed with concern. "I don't know what's wrong with him, but I'm really worried," she admitted.

Reaching over, Max placed a reassuring hand on Y/N's thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sure he'll figure things out. Sometimes, it just takes time," he offered, his gaze returning to the road.

The rest of the drive continued in comfortable silence. Eventually, as the city lights painted a picturesque backdrop, Y/N broke the quiet with a nervous giggle. "I think I would like to come to Monaco with you at some point, if that's still up for grabs."

A broad grin stretched across Max's face. "Of course, it is, I’d love that" he replied, his eyes briefly meeting hers.

When they arrived at her apartment, Max, displaying a gentlemanly gesture, asked if he could walk her up to her door to ensure she got in safely. Y/N agreed, and they strolled together through the dimly lit corridor. Upon reaching her door, the ambiance shifted. Max leaned down, capturing Y/N's lips in a gentle kiss. Y/N’s hands reach up the back of his neck, her fingers lacing themselves in Max’s hair as their lips moved against each other. Their connection lingered for a moment before they pulled away, breaths slightly labored as Max rested his forehead against hers.

“Do you want to come in?”

Tag list-

@nightlockcornucopia @jaydensluv @girlytots19 @formula1mount @alwaysclassyeagle @aundercover @sofifiia @dessxoxsworld @lpab @lorarri @thelovehypothesis @torrie421 @ironmaiden1313 @celesteblack08 @glow-ish @urfavouritef1girly @alwaysclassyeagle @barnestatic @simxican @formula1mount @charli123456789 @mac-daddy-210 @lazybot @imguce @azxulaa @mehrmonga @sunny44 @skepvids @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @chimchimjiminie16 @tyna-19 @hoely-maria @stevesworld9 @f1lov3r @elliegrey2803 @heyyhelloohii @landosgirlxoxo @skepvids @aundercover @andydrysdalerogers @illicitverstappen @bbygrlllllll @kageyamama-hinatatata @imagandom @bibissparkles @sofifiia @dark-night-sky-99 @viennakarma @tyna-19 @wcnorris @storminacloud

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x y/n #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #football x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fics #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 8 months ago

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HI ITS ME gvxzggsgjfh ok look this is. i know this is a weird one it is SO specific and so obviously something i should just write myself if i want it👏but👏but👏BUT i decided to shoot my shot when a perfect chance has arisenderised for you to pick and choose from anything you like AND in any form, and to see if this one maybe by any chance just so happens to spark anything fun in u too xD

ssssssssssoooooooooooooooooooooo RANDOM EVENT ROLL D20 mc gets bitten by a werewoof or some other kind of "contagious" monster species (....cant really think of anything else other than vampirs, now that i say it) but WAIT THERES MORE because. what if mc insisted that they dont want any potential existent cures, they just wanna stay monstery >:3 JVDTHGLN who's considering it, who would absolutely go in the "its either me or this" direction, who's enthusiastic🤣 this is silly as hell but in the case it sparks joy id love to hear ur any and all thoughts because this idea has been haunting me for forever lmao honestly the best way ive imagined it is like one of your own selfinsert pieces youve posted before where its just all of them together bickering heeheehee💘💕🩷💞💖

love u have fun!!

The Arcana Drabble: MC transforms into a "monster"

In the spirit of things, I though a long drabble/short oneshot would work best to keep the madness going XD

Asra's getting stuck in their "one focus and one focus only" mode and right now that focus is making sure you're okay. He'll decide how he feels later, which isn't being helped at all because Julian keeps calling on him to help him slow down the process and get you to think about this a little more. However, it's hard to tell what exactly Julian wants your decision to be because in between him trying to get Asra to make you think about it some more, he's having all kinds of medical epiphanies about how your anatomy is adjusting to the new monster form:

"MC, let's think about some more, shall we? I'm sure Asra agrees with me - don't you, Asra? Asr - oh, whats this?! Your finger's joints are rapidly adjusting to accommodate for - I need a pen and paper -"

"Right here, Ilya." It's Portia's dismissive tone as she digs a small notebook and pencil out of her pocket that keeps you grounded. Not for long, though, because she can't wait to see what happens next. "Accommodate for what, anyways? Are you growing another joint?? Are you going to get claws??? Talons???? Show me!"

Between Julian jotting down unintelligible notes while he studies your elbow's range of motion, Portia's excited exclamations, and Asra's attempt at soothing touch as they rub your shoulders and ask how you're feeling, it's a miracle you can notice Muriel's quiet mumble in the background. He's clearly overwhelmed and very concerned that the physically-altering substance in general got to your brain first, making you so seemingly okay with turning into a monster.

"MC, do you remember your name? Do you need to take a nap? You don't have to be okay with this -"

"I believe this may warrant far more than a nap to recover from." Nadia's doing her best to keep Lucio calm, holding him back from tackling you much like she might grasp a leash. You can practically see the headache building behind her eyes. "We have yet to determine what the extent of this transformation is and therefore whether our dear MC is even capable of fully agreeing to the current process. MC, darling, did the source of this transformation give you any indication of what the end result would be?"

You'd try to respond, but Lucio's excited yelling is too noisy to shout over. He's fumbling at the fastenings on his cape, distracted by your ongoing changes, and very annoyed at Nadia's interference.

"Where did it go? I want to see if it can give me powers too - OW! Dammit, Noddy, I'm trying to help here! You're keeping me from finding the monster and getting it to give me cool - I mean, getting it to tell us more about what's happening! Don't you want that? Don't you want to help MC, Noddy?! Let me go -"

It's with a loud RIP and subsequent "that was velvet, you know!" that Lucio finally breaks free and sprints off in the direction of your new monster friend. You can feel yourself slowly settling in to your new form as the process shows signs of slowing and reaching completion.

Nadia's facepalming. Portia's looking at you with eyes shining in wonder. Julian's still trying to nag Asra into reversing this as he takes notes. The magician in question is still ignoring him as they ask you how you feel for the nth time. Muriel's eyeing the nearby closet in hopes of taking a nap and waking up to it all being a dream. Lucio's a distant, spiky golden speck at this point.

Faust is quietly trying to sneak her knife into your hand, for crimes.

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana drabble #the arcana imagine #the arcana fanfic #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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breadvidence · 16 days ago

Text

I'm going to table a two-pole concept as a useful tool when evaluating what you're building when you write meta/literary analysis.

So: say there's a distinction between what you can read out of a text and what you can read into a text: or, I'm going to use those prepositions as convenient shorthands for this post as I talk about one of many patterns in literary analysis. Both are the bread and butter equally of the academic industry and fan work, though I'd bet the former would pretend it uses reading into texts less, and I've seen fan work fail more genuinely to see the difference.

When we read out of the text, direct quotes, context, historical facts, etc. come together into a more complex idea or conclusion: one of my favorites in Les Misérables is the murder-suicide implication of Marius bringing Javert's pistols with him to his final (missed) meeting with Cosette at the Rue Plumet. It hinges on the context of Romantic tropes surrounding the death of lovers, his direct association with Ulbach via the Lark's meadow, his insistence that death will follow their separation, the fact of there being two pistols, and answers the otherwise puzzling question put to us when the narrator says "It would be difficult to say what vague thought [Marius] had in his mind when he took [the pistols] with him." (4.9.2). Now, whether Marius would have shot Cosette—or solicited her to commit suicide with him—is beyond what we can read out of the text, in my opinion, but the potential is inarguable.

What we can read out of a text is, I will note, haunted by the question of authorial intent. There's this guy named Barthes, I think it is, who fucked us up on that one.

"Why are you bringing up prepositions to talk about basic literary analysis, Bread?" I hear you ask. But wait! There's more. A preface this with: per my opening, I'm laying out a concept with two poles, and there's a gradient between them, nothing fits perfectly-neatly, and any analysis might be a blend of in and out—and almost all things read into a text must somewhat come out of it. That qualifier being said, I'll still argue for:

When we read into the text, while quotes, context, historical fact, etc. may spark the idea, ultimately the analysis begins with its conclusion, and we are seeking to find material to shore up a structure we've already built. So, so much professional queer literary criticism of works created without explicit queer intent fall into this category, bless 'em, and so does a lot of fan meta. Reading into a text is the entire game of fanfic, and it's a space in which creators can enrich the works of others. Often, what we bring into the text is ourselves—which is neat as fuck, particularly for a queer person like myself whose understanding of the world radically differs from an author like Victor Hugo (though of the ideas that I freely admit to reading into the text, my real darling is fear as Javert's primary emotional motivator [Hugo tells us at length about Javert's emotional motivation: I just think it's neat to ask why do we hate?, and find an answer that is less painful than for its own sake]). Analysis that has been read into the text can be intricate, built upon extensive evidence from the text and history, but ultimately it varies from what can be read out of the text in being indefensible: some portion, however compelling, relies upon an element that cannot be found in the text and its context: if the analysis could not be independently built by every reader possessed of the same basic facts, you got something read in. What we build this kind of analysis with often includes, without value judgment, our emotion, identity, and personal investments (ever-present in analysis of all types, but in these specific cases structurally integral). For a second example: to me, it's incredibly important that the bourgeois marriage at the end of Les Misérables is meant as a failure of the sociopolitical ethical argument made by the book as the whole, but I cannot read that out of the text. Trust me, I have tried to build that analysis, and I always find myself having to lean on feeling and inference and implication in a way that's so much air. To make Les Mis meaningful for myself, I stick to this idea of that failure: but I can't defend it to someone else.

I can still write an analysis of Javert motivated by fear or bourgeois marriage as failure, share that, have people read and (hopefully) enjoy it—that's meaningful fanwork (or academic work, for that matter; that's a thin line in literature). What I won't do is defend those points as definitive readings of the text, and I definitely ain't going to argue back if somebody tells me they have a different reading. Sometimes analysis can tip-toe right along the edge of being out of and into the text, but I can tell you when I'm doing the latter.

There are times when you can read into the text in a way that is fully indulgent in fan work in a way that academia generally avoids (or pretends to avoid): take, for example, building trans Enjolras out of canon material. There is precisely zero way to read out of Les Misérables that Victor Hugo wrote the novel imagining Enjolras had anything other than a dick—I am not altogether married to the question of authorial intent, but me and it are on friendly terms, and I'm dead confident here—but as fandom has made abundantly clear, you can read transness into the novel (which is not to say Hugo doesn't play with androgyny and gender in Enjolras' character—he's just not flying the pink-periwinkle-and-white). This is something that means a lot to a lot of people, and that's valuable. The fact that it's not in the novel does not invalidate the meaning. It simply means it's built on different ground (and, when we talk about the ways in which a text lacks or fucks up or can do more, we find going into it results in a more fertile reading than simply getting out of it).

There's no have to in meta or literary analysis—it's a game we're playing with stories that are themselves games—but I think this framework has a couple benefits as a tool to analyze analysis, particularly in a social environment. (1) If your goal is to make arguments about what can be firmly concluded from a text, recognizing that reading into it is a different style of analysis with a different level of portability to others is useful and (2) recognizing that what you have read into the text is refutable and idiosyncratic strengthens your ability to remain engaged with others who don't share or agree with your analysis. Now, sometimes you think you're reading out of the text, and additional information or a counterpoint prove you wrong: that's fine, inevitable, we all got our days where we didn't know the historical usage of a certain word or something, eh? On the other hand, if you're perfectly aware you're reading into the text, if someone tables a counterpoint or additional information, you can say: Yeah, cool, thank you, my investment in this idea is playful or personal or what-have-you, and its defensibility is irrelevant to its existence.

From personal experience? All beneficial.

#meta #literary analysis #tools for thinking #and tools for socializing #I'm not vagueblogging to be clear!#This is me offering a tool #and answering someone's direct question as gently as I know how

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enigmatist17 · 3 months ago

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Wheeljack groaned as his optics twinged, doorwings twitched as the sensory overload from...whatever had enveloped him in light made his helm spin.

"Oooooow what was that?" Oh Primus the sparkling, he forgot they'd been training.

"Are you alright little one?" The little femme currently pinned to the ground under his leg only groaned, Wheeljack moving his leg to free her as he looked around. Twitch shot up to hover beside the taller mech as she shook some soil from the top of her helm, already buzzing with a dozen questions.

"I'm okay! What was that light? And where is this place? Oh, did we teleport?! Can you teleport and just never told me?" Wheeljack finally got up to his feet, scanner out and receiving readings he hadn't seen in a long time. "Wait, where's Starscream? He was right next to you!"

"I don't know, but why don't we go and find out?" Twitch turned to look at him, servos pressed together in concern. "What's the matter?"

"I-I can't feel the others, i-it's like they're too far away." Wheeljack motioned for her to perch on his shoulder, waving his scanner around before pinpointing a location beyond the treeline. "Do you think they're okay?"

"I'm sure they are sweet Spark, your family is a tough one."

"You're right!" Wheeljack thanked Primus for her neverending optimism, following the (begrudgingly) familiar seeker EMF he'd picked up. They had barely cleared the treeline when the sounds of gunfire rang out, and both mechs shot forward to get a look at the valley that emerged below them. Starscream had indeed teleported with them, and was hiding behind some fallen logs, Wheeljack's spark nearly stopping at precisely who was firing upon the tentative ally.

"Hey, you leave him alone!" Twitch shrieked, transforming into her drone mode to fly down at the fight, missing a bot that moved to fire on the new perceived threat. Wheeljack beat them to it by disarming the bot, the inventor activating his battle mask as he ran after the sparkling.

"Twitch get out of here!" Starscream hissed, firing back for the first time with his null ray in an attempt to draw fire.

"No! You stop hurting my friend!" Twitch stopped in front of Starscream, shield active in an attempt to keep him safe.

"Is that a sparkling?!" One of the other bots hissed, only to go silent when Wheeljack slid to a stop in front of both Twitch and Starscream with his gun armed and raised. "Wheeljack?!"

"Everyone hold yer fire!" The four mechs he knew were hiding behind cover all paused, eyeing each other in confusion and suspicion. "Now, I may not know what's goin' on, but if you harm this sparklin', you answer to me."

"Yea, Dad2 is really good at fighting, so you'd better listen!" Wheeljack was grateful his mask was up, covering the grin that crossed his face despite the situation.

"....Dad2?" Wheeljack's aim trembled when a familiar mech stood, doorwings high and taught as they regarded the other. "Who are you? And how is it you have come across a sparkling?"

"You know who I am P...Prowl, and I'm ashamed ta admit I don't quite know how we got here, at least not yet." Twitch transformed back to her base mode to more than a few surprised noises, flying behind Starscream's cover to land beside him. She may not understand what's happening, but Wheeljack always had her back, so she focused on her potentially wounded ally.

"Are you okay? Did they shoot you?" Her orange wings twitched in concern as the seeker shook his helm, a clawed servo gently patting the top of her helm as Starscream kept an eye on the various Autobots.

"I shall be fine young Twitch." He moved his servo so Twitch could hold it, the small femme urging him to stand as she stared down the opposition.

"You cannot be serious the sparkling trusts Starscream." A smaller red mech's jaw dropped when Starscream got to his pedes, the Decepticon looking...well, looking far different from the one they'd fought a few solar-cycles ago.

"Starscream is my friend, be nice!" The little femme hissed, one of the taller mechs unable to stop a snort at the sight.

"Starscream is no one's friend." The red mech moved to step forward, but stopped when Wheeljack raised his blaster in warning. "This is unbelievable, it has to be some sort of trap!"

"This would be the weirdest, and most importantly, least thought-out trap I've ever seen then." A black and white mech shrugged, Twitch staring at him momentarily before her eyes flashed in recognition.

"Omigosh, you're Jazz." The smallest bot's wings twitched as the mech regarded her, visor glinting in the sun as he tilted his helm before stepping forward with a smile, servos up in peace.

"I'm honored little lady." Twitch could feel Starscream tensing up behind her, but the seeker remained where he stood as she approached the other bot, clearly curious as the other Autobots revealed themselves.

"Dad is going to be so jealous!" The squeal she let out startled everyone except Wheeljack and Starscream, the femme waving her servos in excitement. "Jazz, Prowl, Cliffjumper, Bluestreak, and Hound?! Ohmigosh, this is the coolest thing ever! Wait, are we going to the Ark? I've only ever seen the old documentaries about it, and if I got pictures, the others would be soooo jealous!"

"Twitch, darlin', ease up." Wheeljack finally holstered his gun and retracted his battle mask, noting the surprised look on the other mech's faces. "We still don't know what's goin' on."

"On that, we can agree." Starscream drawled, the feigned disinterest he was going for betrayed by his wings rigid with tension as he watched Twitch moving to examine an amused Hound's frame.

"I have already commed for reinforcements; they should arrive soon enough." Prowl approached Wheeljack with a slight hum, eyeing the nearby Decepticon with a glare. "The sparkling, she speaks of us like one does a figure in a historical sense."

"Well..." Wheeljack made sure Twitch was sufficiently distracted before leaning closer to his old commander and shaking his helm in regret. "Most of you are dead, have been fer a long time."

"...I see."

What else was there to say?

Most of the older bots were entertained by Twitch's neverending enthusiasm while they waited for whatever Autobots had been dispatched, the mere sight of a sparkling after so long lifting their sparks. Starscream tensed even further when he picked up more than a few EMF's before long, glancing down when Wheeljack moved to stand beside him.

"Doin' alright there?"

"What do you think? As you undoubtedly surmised, we are back in the War, and most of you tend to shoot first and ask questions later."

"I seem ta recall you doin' the exact same thing." The seeker glared at the deadpan response, wings flicking in a rude gesture the other only scoffed at. "Really?"

"I could do more, but the sparkling has already picked up a few, ones that Lieutenant Malto seems to know for some fragging reason." Wheeljack couldn't help but let out a loud laugh, audial fins flashing in amusement as Starscream grumbled. "SIience, you fool."

"Oh not a chance." The moment is lost when four bots drive into view, transforming to reveal Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Ratchet, and....himself.

"Whoa." Both engineers were sizing each other up in equal parts, curiosity and suspicion, interrupted when Twitch flew up to hover between the two with wide optics.

"This is so cool!" Before either mech could respond, she was zipping over to Bumblebee, hovering beside her mentor with a curious tilt of her helm. "I don't really know how I feel about this."

"Um...do we know each other?" Bumblebee regarded her in confusion as Optimus stepped forward, kneeling down with a friendly smile.

"Greetings, little one." Primus above, he hadn't seen a sparkling so small before, watching her optics flash in recognition before she was suddenly hugging his neck. "I see you enjoy giving hugs."

"Twitch, ease up lil' bitlet." Wheeljack shook his helm as she let go of the Autobot leader, noting Ratchet was staring at her with an intense expression. "Sorry, she's an excitable lil' thing ain't she?"

"That she is old friend." Twitch moved to hover beside Starscream as Optimus stood back up, regarding the seeker with a frown. "You must have truly come from another place, Starscream is very much our enemy."

"I'm not exactly chummy on the best of days." The seeker snapped back without hesitation, his expression faltering when Twitch crossed her arms, earning more than a few surprised looks at Starscream folding to a sparkling. "However, I do not target Autobots or those squishy little humans...most of the time."

"What he really means is he's too busy nerding out in Nightshade's lab like, all the time." Twitch rolled her optics, putting her servos on her hips. "Honestly, it took me weeks to drag you out long enough for aerial tactic lessons."

"It was not weeks, you insolent little sparkling." Starscream moved to say something else before he froze, whipping his helm around to stare at a distant cluster of trees with his wings hiking up in alert.

"Starscream?"

"We are being observed."

"Then let us continue this conversation elsewhere." Prowl narrowed his optics at the position Starscream had pointed out, Hound and Bluestreak transforming and heading out without a command. "We must not let the Decepticons get hold of any of them."

"Go, I remember where the Ark used to be." The seeker waved one servo before jumping up and transforming into his alt mode with one move, blasting off after the two Autobots.

"He shouldn't go alone." Twitch protested, but remained where she was when Wheeljack shook his helm.

"No, you're the priority here. Besides, Hound and Bluestreak'll keep him right as rain, you can trust me on that." After one last look at Starscream's retreating form, she nodded, Wheeljack transforming into his alt and popping open his door. "Come on sweetling, it's a bit of a drive."

"How can I turn down a free ride from Dad2!"

"Dad2?" Ratchet stared as the Lancia drove off, the medic already running through a list of what to scan for as the other Autobots shared bemused looks before following after.

#personal #transformers #transformers g1 #transformers earthspark #tfe starscream #tfe wheeljack #twitch #tf g1 prowl #tf g1 jazz #tf g1 optimus #tf g1 wheeljack #crossover

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awkwardauthorwrites · 2 years ago

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Protector

Based on this request: I was wondering if you could write maybe some angst with fluff about how you and Sebastian are fighting against a villain and he takes the blow for you? thank you so much

Word Count: 2.6k

Themes: angst, fluff. Fem!Reader

Warnings: All characters aged up to 18+. Potential spoilers for HL

“How are you not tired, yet?” Sebastian glared over his shoulder at Y/N, who currently had her back pressed up against his in a defensive position. They had severely underestimated the size of the camp, as they had been fighting the bandits for the better part of an hour and they were only just beginning to thin out. Y/N just let out a laugh and shot a well-timed glacius-diffindo combination at the Ashwinder scout in front of her, eyes meeting his briefly so he could see the mischief that danced in them.

“Honestly, compared to what I usually go through, this whole situation has felt more like a leisurely stroll than a fierce battle.” Ancient magic surged at Y/N’s fingertips and she wiggled them experimentally, a sly smile on her face as she raised her hand in the air and called lightning down to hit the group in front of them. Sebastian would never admit it, but sometimes the sheer immensity of her power terrified him. It was breathtaking to watch, but seeing an Ashwinder disappear before his very eyes in nothing but a cloud of red mist was unnerving to say the least.

An Ashwinder duellist stepped towards the pair, waving their wand to cast a shield around themselves. A barrel flew past him, guided by Y/N’s ability, and smashed through it, stunning the duellist for a brief moment. Sebastian should have used the seconds bought to bring the attacker down, but instead he flung a shield up around Y/N as a spellbinder shot a spell at her. The duellist cackled, eyes narrowing as they took note of Sebastian’s attempts to protect Y/N, no doubt trying to find a way to exploit it.

“Reducto!”

“Diffindo!” Sebastian interrupted the cast with a severing charm, chuckling as the duellist was spun around and the curse hit a member of their team instead.

“You’re brilliant,” Y/N laughed, her hand reaching behind her to squeeze his arm briefly.

“Next time you want to sneak out of the castle we’re going to the Three Broomsticks for a drink.”

“First rounds on me,” Y/N twirled her wand between her fingers expertly and narrowly dodged a disarming charm an Ashwinder executioner threw her way. “You’ll have to do better than that,” she taunted.

“Y/N, please do not antagonise the angry murderers who are attacking us,” Sebastian groaned. He couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement as she laughed and cast expelliarmus at the executioner, causing him to lose control over the lightning storm he was summoning. Y/N tugged them both aside as the lightning crackled too close for comfort and took cover behind a tent.

“You’re no fun.” Her chest was heaving from exertion but there was a spark to her eyes he hadn’t seen in a while.

“Wasn’t it you who told me fun was relative?” Sebastian, Y/N noted, looked unfairly wellkept considering how long they had been fighting. Her hair had fallen from its updo a while ago and she dreaded having to work the tangles out of it later. Meanwhile, while he may have been more out of breath than her, Sebastian looked as if he had exerted no more energy than he would on a pleasant walk around the lake that bordered their school.

“And this is relatively fun,” she shot him a sinful grin as she quoted him and ducked back into the fray. Although he tried to look annoyed, Sebastian couldn’t help but chuckle, unable to deny her contagious enthusiasm. He shot a particularly vicious confringo at an explosive barrel that was located coincidentally close to a handful of soldiers, taking them all down in one go, before turning to watch Y/N as she levitated three men at once and summoned them towards her before blasting them away again with a particularly powerful bombarda.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Sebastian let out a low whistle, eyes darting around to look for any more enemies. Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes in response, looking across the quiet camp for any more Ashwinders who may have been lurking in the shadows. “Do you see Mr Pippin's chest anywhere?”

“I mean,” Y/N looked around, taking note of several chests dotted around the camp. “Revelio.” The spell lit the chests up, not pointing to any of them in particular. “Yeah I didn’t think it would be that easy,” Y/N sighed and began to make her way to the closest container when a loud crack echoed through the air around them.

“What have you done?” The Ashwinder boss roared at them, eyes full of rage as he took note of the destruction around them.

“Whoops?” Y/N offered. Sebastian grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose at her casual tone.

“Whoops?” he repeated, glaring down at her. “We have an Ashwinder boss in front of us, potentially ready to end our lives for what we did to their camp, and all you can say is whoops?”

“What do you want me to - ” Y/N started to protest, only to be cut off by the boss.

“Enough. You’ll pay for this. Both of you. Crucio!” The Ashwinder boss pointed his wand at Y/N, a vile grin on his features. Red sparks flickered at the end of the stick and time seemed to slow as a bolt of red lightning zigzagged its way across the field in her direction.

“No!” Y/N fell to the ground, her palms scraping the rough stone surface as Sebastian shoved her out of the way. She watched in horror as the curse hit him instead and could have sworn her heart stopped in her chest as he fell to his knees, arm clutching his stomach.

“Sebastian!” The scream ripped out of Y/N’s throat as she scrambled over the gravel to reach him. The arm that had been holding him up faltered and he fell to the ground with a loud yell that echoed around them. Y/N felt her stomach lurch as the boss cackled.

“Avada - ” He never got a chance to finish the killing curse. White hot rage filled every inch of Y/N’s body and ancient magic lashed out, no longer in her control as it found its target. She was vaguely aware of the sickening crunch as their enemy’s body collapsed in on itself and fell limply to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Sebastian grunted in pain as he rolled over onto his back, the curse finally subsiding now that his attacker was dead. Y/N reached out for him hesitantly, only to recoil as his arm twitched violently - an after effect of the lightning coursing through his body. She wanted nothing more than to gather him in her arms and make sure he was okay but could still remember how painful it had been all those years ago when he had cast the same curse on her. How the pain had lingered in her bones, her very soul, far longer than she ever let him know. Tears spilled down her face as she watched helplessly as the spasms finally ended and he lay there breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Sebastian,” she hesitantly reached out for him and gently pulled her head to rest on her lap when he didn’t flinch away from her. “Why did you do that?” she brushed his hair out of his face and used the hem of her cloak to wipe away his sweat. “How could you be so stupid?”

“I couldn’t watch you in pain,” he groaned. “Not like that. Not again.” A harsh cough left his mouth, followed by a wince, before he looked up at her. “Why are you crying?” he raised a shaky hand up, as if to wipe away her tears and she watched, heart clenching in terror, as it fell limply to his side.

“Sebastian? Sebastian!”

*~*~*~*~*

A small part of Sebastian was convinced he had died as he floated in and out of a painless sleep. He was having the strangest dream, he thought to himself as he looked at the dryad who was fast asleep at his bedside, clutching his hand in hers as if it were her lifeline. He followed the lines of her half covered face and itched to run his hands through her long, green tresses. She shifted, moving the light with her, and he watched in fascination and confusion as her features morphed and her hair slowly cycled through various shades of colour until he recognised the woman asleep beside him.

“Y/N.” He squeezed her hand with what little strength he had left and watched as she slowly came to.

“Sebastian?” she murmured, still half-asleep. The hand that wasn’t holding on his rubbed at her eyes tiredly and she suddenly sat up as she realised he was awake. “Oh thank Merlin, you’re awake - ” Y/N looked as if she were about to fling herself on him in an embrace, but stopped as she realised she would only hurt him more. “Are you okay? Do you need me to get Nurse Blainey?”

“I’m fine,” he gently tugged at her hand so she would sit at the end of his bed. “How did you get me here?” Sebastian remembered jumping in front of the spell, not thinking about anything except for protecting Y/N; he had watched her writhe in pain once from the torture curse and he silently vowed to himself she would never have to go through that again as long as he was around. He couldn’t remember much after the Cruciatus Curse had hit him, apart from the blinding agony he felt.

“I apparated us as close to the castle as I could get and levitated you the rest of the way. Blainey wasn’t exactly pleased - or surprised - that I woke her in the middle of the night. She’s going to talk to Black and Weasley first thing in the morning. I don’t quite have your level of charm, I suppose.”

“You’re plenty charming when you want to be,” Sebastian squeezed her hand gently before slowly sitting up in the hospital cot. “Did you tell her what happened?”

“I didn’t have to - she knew immediately. Apparently I’ve earned a reputation for having students jump in front of curses for me,” Y/N rolled her eyes and fixed him with a glare. “Which was a completely stupid thing for you to do, might I add.”

“Hey,” he gave her a reproachful look and watched as she stood up, “I technically just saved you. You could be a little nicer.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Are you feeling better?”

“I…I guess I’m a little sore but all things considered, yes, I’m better,” Sebastian’s eyebrow furrowed in confusion as he watched her pace up and down.

“Well then, I’m furious.” Y/N stopped in front of his bed, eyes blazing with anger. “Don’t you ever do that again.”

“Protect you?”

“I don’t need protection!” her loud words echoed in the too-quiet room and Sebastian watched as her chest heaved in annoyance. “What if he shot a curse that was worse than crucio? What if he - ” Y/N broke off with a sob and fresh tears fell down her face. Sebastian thought the Cruciatus curse would be the nastiest kind of agony he had ever felt for the rest of his life, but seeing Y/N’s tear-stricken face and knowing he was the cause sent a crack through his heart.

“Y/N…” he came to a shaky stand and tried to reach out for her, but she shook her head and took a step back.

“You could have been killed.” She turned away and buried her head in her hands, quiet sobs shaking her shoulders. Sebastian took a couple of apprehensive steps towards her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned and flung herself at him, her arms wrapping tightly around him as she cried into his chest. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’m here.” Sebastian felt a piece of his heart shatter and pulled her into a much needed, tight embrace. There was a burning sensation behind his eyes as he wound one arm around her waist and threaded the other into her hair, holding her in place against him. “I’m okay.” He kissed the top of her forehead as tears slipped out of his own eyes.

“This time.” Y/N meant for her words to come out sharp, for them to sting, but instead he took one of her hands and held it against his chest, right above his heart.

“I’m okay,” he repeated softly. “See? It’s still beating for you.”

“Don’t be cute at a time like this,” she glared at him but the blow didn’t quite land as intended when he caught sight of her tear stained face. He smiled gently at her and wiped her tears away, using the sleeve of his robe to dry her face.

“Okay.”

“And never do anything that stupid again.”

“I promise not to jump in front of a curse that will cause you debilitating pain ever again.”

“Sebastian.”

“Okay, okay. I promise. Anything else?”

“One more thing.” She used his tie to tug him towards her and placed a too-quick kiss on his lips. “If you ever, and I mean ever, so much as think about doing something so stupid again, I will make you wish you never taught me all three of the unforgivable curses,” she muttered against his lips. Sebastian blinked at her, his emotions torn between being frightened by her threat and flustered by the kiss.

“Duly noted,” he nodded, nose bumping hers gently before he leant back in to kiss her again.

“I mean it Sallow,” she pulled away from him, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I don’t need you to protect me and I will not hesitate to crucio you myself if you do that again.”

“Y/N,” he groaned, head landing on her shoulder gently. “I will promise you the entire world if you want it, but for now would you please stop talking and just let me kiss you back.”

“Only if you kiss me like you mean it.” Y/N fiddled with the knot in his tie as she avoided his gaze, suddenly looking very unsure of herself. A part of Sebastian wanted to berate her for it - how could she not tell that was all he wanted since the moment she bested him in their first duel two years ago? That she was the only person he ever wanted to kiss, the only one he wanted to be with? He may have had a few dalliances since meeting her (and he knew she did too) but it had always been her right from the very first moment.

“Darling,” he tilted her head up gently so he could look her in the eye, “later I’ll tell you all about how you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, but right now I can definitely promise you that I mean it.” He closed the gap between them, trying to be a gentleman as he kissed her sweetly to convey how he felt about her, but Y/N was having none of it as she tugged at his hair and wrapped herself around him, her lips moving against his in frantic desperation. He groaned as she caught his lower lip between his teeth and tugged at it gently, causing Sebastian to reluctantly pull away from the kiss to look down at her, his eyes roaming over her tousled hair and swollen lips. “Easy now, we have the rest of our lives for that.”

“I like the sound of that.”

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