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sodaabaa · 2 days

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to flee or not to flee, part four

anthony bridgerton x OC what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn,

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts

masterlist

“Your Grace, may I be so privileged as to take a stroll with the Duchess? I was hoping to get to know the Bridgerton family better and where best to start but with the eldest daughter?” She approached the table where the Duke of Hastings and his wife were lounging at on the terrace of Aubrey Hall overlooking the vast amount of land the family possessed.

“Please, I only wish to be called Simon – the Duke of Hastings is a title better suited to stuffy old men, do you not think?” He joked, an easy smile on his face – although his attention returned quickly to his wife.

“Of course! I’d be delighted to learn more about you as well, Miss Carrington” Daphne said.

Daphne all but jumped from her seat, turning only to give a quick peck on her husband’s cheek.

“Shall we?” Daphne said, offering an arm to Annalise. She nodded, locking her arm with Daphne’s as they walked off.

They made their way to one of the large staircases leading down to the front of the manor and Annalise once again, marveled at the sheer size of the home. She supposed Daphne noticed her gaping stare when she said, “it is not as grand as it seems, when you share the home with a dozen other people.”

“Does Lord Bridgerton spend much of his time here?”

“Ah, straight into your inquiries of Anthony, I see?”

Annalise’s eyes widened, a warm blush creeping up her neck, “no- I did not mean to pry about the viscount’s affairs, I-”

Daphne laughed, “not to worry, Miss Carrington. I only wish I had the opportunity to learn about my husband and his family before I married him. It is a good thing that you wish to know us before you marry him.”

Annalise exhaled, once again overwhelmed with the task she decided to take on – spending each day with Bridgerton sibling would not be easy.

“Did you not know him before you married? From the way you two look at each other, it seems as though you’ve known each other for ages. Was it not a love match?”

“I suppose it was. Though neither of us knew, nor did we want to admit it. Actually, it was Anthony who made us marry – rather quickly too, I hadn’t had the chance to truly know Simon before we wed.”

“Did the viscount choose Simon for you to marry?”

Daphne scoffed, “heavens, no. He loathed the idea of Simon marrying me – do you know they dueled? Or they were about to before I ran in to stop them. He had found Simon and I…” she paused, pursing her lips, “in a rather compromising position.”

Annalise raised her brows, “and he forced the two of you to marry?”

“Precisely. Though I suppose it was for the best in the end” she smiled, no doubt thinking of her husband.

“Excuse my forwardness but, did he force the two of you to marry to save the family’s reputation? I suppose what I’m trying to say is, is he quite concerned with how he is perceived?”

“I suppose one could see it that way if you were not familiar with Anthony. You see, honor and duty is of utmost importance to my brother – and he is fiercely protective of the people he loves, which are few and far between outside of his family. He did not want Simon to take advantage of me – for him to have his way and then abandon me. In his own mind, forcing us to marry was more about protecting me from harm than it was about protecting my reputation.”

Annalise nodded, choosing to remain silent for a moment as they continued their stroll.

“Does he ever wish he were not the eldest?” Annalise asked.

Daphne looked at Annalise in surprise.

“No, I don’t think he does. Though, it’s not something I’ve ever discussed with him. One might think he regrets it or wishes he was not the firstborn – but Anthony is not a man who wishes for things. He’s very cold and logical in that way. The way he sees it, fate cannot be changed. He is the firstborn son and he must accept the responsibility that comes with it, whether he wishes to or not.”

Fate cannot be changed. The words echoed in her mind.

They continued their stroll around the grounds, Annalise quietly pondering over Daphne’s revelations about the viscount. When they neared Aubrey Hall, Daphne turned to Annalise, grabbing both of her hands.

“I could not imagine that any of my other brothers would have taken care of our family the way Anthony did – and continues to. And I doubt there is a man in London that could be a better husband than him because of it. Except Simon of course. But fortunately he’s taken.” She said with a triumphant smile.

The pair returned to Aubrey Hall, she exchanged goodbyes with Daphne who was all too eager to get back to her husband. Annalise stood at the center of the foyer, processing the conversation with the Duchess.

“I see you’ve gotten more acquainted with Daphne, she was not too tiresome, I hope? She is quite the opinionated Duchess, I will say” a velvety voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Annalise squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, scrunching her face. She exhaled and turned to where the voice had come from.

“Not at all, she’s lovely. I enjoyed my time with her” she replied, trying to be as curt as possible.

“I’m happy to hear you’re getting along with my family then – a step in the right direction indeed” he teased, a smile on his face that Annalise wished did not make her feel so warm in the face.

“Must you always?” She shot back.

He shrugged, his arms lifted out to each side, “I’m not certain what you mean, Miss Carrington.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead giving him a defiant look and a small curtsy to excuse herself from the conversation. He let her leave but did not cease his smiling as she walked off to her room, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as she could.

“Your defiance will not deter me, Miss Carrington!” He called out after her.

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Her next target – Eloise. From what Annalise already knew of her, Eloise was rebellious, outspoken, and had a large amount of disdain for the polite society she was raised in. Perhaps she could give Annalise better insight into the flaws of her brother?

As expected, she found Eloise in the library, her nose in a book. Annalise sat across from her, a book in her own hand. She glanced at Eloise for a moment who seemingly either hadn’t noticed her sit down or was entirely too entranced by her book. Annalise opened her own book, skimming the pages.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Eloise peeking over her book. Annalise looked up just as Eloise peeked over her book once again.

“Hello, Miss Bridgerton – though I assume you’d prefer Eloise?”

She nodded, putting her book down in her lap.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Annalise asked.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve read this book twice before, I only wanted an excuse to get out of embroidery lessons with my mother and Francesca” she said bluntly.

Annalise laughed, “You are every bit the rebellious one your brother said you were.”

“He said that did he!” Eloise exclaimed.

“Well he certainly implied it” she laughed

Eloise rolled her eyes but her smile remained, “I suppose your brother thinks the same. A well-read woman is often seen as rebellious, are we not?”

Annalise’s smile faded, “yes it seems so.”

“It is their fault – they cannot handle an intelligent mind” Eloise said, her tone both serious and jestful when she noticed the shift in Annalise’ demeanor.

“Does your brother dislike your love of books?” Annalise asked.

“Hardly. Despite his qualms and complaints on my rebellious nature” she mocked, “when we were younger, he found quite the governess for us – for Daphne, Francesca and I, that is. Actually – several governesses, each one more strong willed than the other! I’d scare them off when I didn’t like them but he refused to give up” she chuckled.

“What about your brothers, did he treat them any differently from the three of you?” Come on, Eloise. Give me something. She pleaded in her mind.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose. He certainly doesn’t drink with us or take us to the gentlemen's club but we were always allowed to pursue what we wanted. Did he ever tell you, I’m a better shot than the lot of them! And he never prevented me from besting him, as wounded as his pride may have been.” She scoffed.

Annalise sighed. Yet another review of the viscount that held nothing but praise. Three days had passed and yet Annalise had not yet found a single flaw.

After their conversation ended, Annalise made her way out of the library towards the terrace for some air when she heard music coming from one of the rooms. She walked towards the sound – a pianoforte playing a dancing tune. The door to the room ajar so she peered inside, unable to quell her curiosity.

“Come, brother! It’s been far too long since you’ve danced with me!” It was the youngest Bridgerton, dragging Anthony by the hand towards the center of the room.

“Alright but just this one dance, I have much work to do, Hyacinth.”

Behind them, Francesca played the piano – as Anthony had said – quite exceptionally.

Anthony took Hyacinth by the hands and began dancing with her, galloping across the room, spinning her around eliciting loud giggles from the young girl. He picked her up, spinning her around, grinning ear to ear at the joy his sister found in dancing with him. Annalise watched them, it was a bittersweet sight. The age difference between Anthony and Hyacinth was not all that different from Annalise and Thomas. But here she was, deathly afraid of accepting a proposal from what she now had to admit, amazing man, because of her own brother. Her fear, that even Anthony, in all of his greatness, would turn out every bit as cruel as Thomas. She turned away from the scene, unable to witness all that she could have had.

That evening, she laid in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. There were still quite a few Bridgerton siblings left to converse with, but she was beginning to doubt there’d be any use. A sharp knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

“Come in,” she said, sitting up. Lady Bridgerton walked in, a gentle smile on her face. Annalise stood up, caught off guard by her sudden arrival.

“Apologies, I did not mean to intrude but I wished to speak with you.”

“Oh! It’s no intrusion at all, Lady Bridgerton, it’s your home after all. Please, sit” Annalise said, standing until the dowager viscountess took her seat on the bed.

They sat side by side as Lady Bridgerton took Annalise’s hands in hers.

“This all must be quite frightening for you, being courted by Anthony and having no confidant” she said, her eyes filled with love – Annalise knew what she had meant. She was unsure of what to say, scared that she might say the wrong thing.

“Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask me. I went through this once upon a time – and I have raised four daughters of my own. I am no stranger to the worries of young girls during this time.”

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. You are most kind” she said softly, trying to hold back the tears fighting their way through. Despite not remembering much of her mother, there were certainly days where her heart ached because of the vacancy in her life.

“I know Anthony is not the easiest man to get along with. He is an enigma, even to me sometimes and I raised the boy!” She laughed, Annalise smiled along with her. Lady Bridgerton exhaled, a smile still on her face as she turned to Annalise.

“He feels strongly about you. I see it in the way he looks at you. I do not think I’ve ever seen him quite so enamored by someone before. I do hope you will give him a chance before you write him off.”

Annalise sighed. First the sisters, now the mother. What was Annalise to do?

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A startling crack forced Annalise’s eyes open, ripping her from her sleep. Light poured in through the satin curtains. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was the morning of her fourth day at Aubrey Hall, her fourth day in search for Anthony Bridgerton’s fatal flaw in hopes it may save her from the irreversible boundaries of marriage. Annalise sighed, leaving the plush bed behind in preparation for the day.

She made her way towards the noise that had awakened her, following the boisterous laughter of men as they shot clay pigeons. To her surprise – it was not only men, Eloise was taking her shot while Benedict, Collin, and the Duke watched in awe. She stepped outside, walking towards the group though not near enough for them to see her just yet.

“She is a freak of nature” Benedict murmured.

“How was I not aware that it is not a Bridgerton brother – but a sister who is the best shot?” The Duke chuckled, obviously enjoying the shame Eloise’ skills caused her brothers.

Eloise turned after taking her shot, shooting down the clay pigeon with ease, a triumphant smile on her face.

When she spotted Annalise, she jumped, “Oh, Annalise! You must join us!” Eloise ran over, excitedly grabbing Annalise by the hand and dragging her towards the little party.

Benedict was the first to speak as Annalise approached them, offering a nod and a warm smile.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking yet – I hear you’ve been quite busy interrogating the family about our dear eldest brother?”

Annalise blushed, “I see I have not been as subtle as I had hoped,” looking down at her feet suddenly regretting joining their outing.

“It’s quite alright, Miss Carrington. Quite smart on your part, actually” the Duke said, chiming in on the conversation.

“Has it now reached our turn to be interrogated?” Collin jested.

Annalise couldn’t fight off her smile caused by the younger boy’s joke, “I think I’ve gathered all the information I need.”

“And that is?” Benedict asked.

“That your brother is essentially flawless, I suppose. There is really nothing that could hinder me from accepting his proposal.”

The three siblings and the Duke exchanged looks, silent for a moment before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Annalise stilled, had she said something funny?

“Our brother? Flawless?” Eloise said, doubling over in laughter.

Benedict and Collin cleared their throats, trying not to laugh any further, wiping away tears from their eyes. The Duke chuckled once more.

“Do you wish to reject his proposal, Miss Carrington?” Collin asked after he’d calmed down from the sudden outburst. Before she could respond, Benedict cut in.

“Truth be told, Anthony is a complicated man – he is honorable and decent, of course. But,” he paused, trying to find the words to convey his feelings towards his eldest brother, “the death of our father haunts him, the weight of carrying this family is constant and it makes him rather – irritable? Hard to please?” He finished, looking at Eloise and Collin in question.

“Obstinate?” Eloise added.

“Self-righteous” Collin said.

“Arrogant” the Duke nodded.

“Well then-” she turned to Eloise, “you waxed on about how well he took care of you and your sisters” she said, confused at the sudden change in opinion.

“He certainly did! As dutiful and honorable as he is, he can be just as difficult.”

“He is the reason we are able to pursue what we want but his decision to take on this burden has isolated him” Benedict said earnestly.

Annalise did not know what to make of this conversation. She saw what it did to her brother to take on the responsibility of being heir. It did not bode well for her, she became the outlet to her brother’s every stress and grievance. But she had seen Anthony with his family – the family whose weight he held on his shoulders valiantly. He did not hurt them the way Thomas had hurt her.

“Perhaps we should return, it seems as though a storm is coming” the Duke said, snapping Annalise out of her thoughts. She only nodded, relieved to end the conversation and retire to her room.

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Anthony poured another drink in his glass, swirling the cup before downing the bitter liquid all at once. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He spent the past few days going over dozens of ledgers and letters that required his attention. At first, he welcomed the distraction. It had been four days and Annalise still had not given him an answer – not only had she not answered but it seemed to be she was doing her best to avoid him altogether. He supposed it could be worse, Daphne had informed him that Annalise was asking about him. Perhaps he had hope yet. The pitter patter of rain caught Anthony’s attention, the dreary skies finally gave into pouring rain it seemed. He tried to return his focus to the ledgers in front of him. Unfortunately, the sound of his siblings' laughter did not allow it. He exhaled in annoyance, getting up from his seat at the mahogany desk to go berate them to shut up.

“Is it necessary to be as boisterous as you lot are?” He barked, storming out of his study.

“I have been working for da-” He stopped in his mid sentence, choking on his words once he noticed Annalise frozen standing between Benedict and Eloise.

“Miss Carrington. My apologies, I did not realize- I assumed all the noise was coming from my brothers” He stumbled.

She shook her head, “please, you needn’t apologize, my lord. We did not intend to disturb you” she said, her voice meek, avoiding eye contact. Something tugged at his chest at the sight of her so docile and afraid.

“Come now brother, must you always be such a damper on our fun?” Benedict said.

He shot Benedict a look, not now.

Thankfully, Benedict understood.

“I believe mother wanted to speak with you, Eloise. Something about you avoiding an embroidery lesson?”

Eloise looked to Anthony and then Benedict, eyes wide.

“Collin? Did you ever tell me about your trip to Anatolia? Penelope mentioned something about a turkey…?” She said, hoping to rope Collin into postponing her chat with their mother.

Collin pondered for a moment, “no I don’t believe I did.” Benedict, Collin and Eloise locked arms and sauntered off. Benedict turned before they were out of sight, throwing a wink at Anthony.

He was left with Annalise, who still had her eyes trained on the ground.

“Would you mind accompanying me back to my study for a moment?” He asked.

She looked up, lips parted to make an excuse but he spoke before she could voice her protest.

“I promise, I only wish to speak with you.”

She nodded hesitantly but followed him as he made his way back to the study. He returned to his seat, gesturing for Annalise to sit where she’d like. She sat, her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers.

He watched her for a moment. Eyes trained on the way she tried to soothe her nerves by fiddling with whatever she could find – usually it was a loose thread. Anthony exhaled, he supposed he should just spit out the question he so desperately wanted an answer to.

“Why are you insistent upon refusing my proposal? One would have thought marriage is something a person in your position should chase” he asked.

Annalise looked up, inhaling.

“I have already told you, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Have I wronged you in some way? Hurt you? Or have you found that I lack something that you wish to have in a husband” Anthony pressed.

She scoffed, shaking her head.

“What is it?” He asked.

“You are so incredibly,” she paused, “vexing!”

“Vexing?” His eyebrows raised.

“Yes, vexing. I have spent the better part of this week searching for some flaw, some secret, something that will make it clear to me that we are not meant to be!” Her voice was rising as she neared the end of the sentence. This was the most he’d seen her speak – and the loudest she had been too.

“And did you find it?” He whispered.

“No.”

Anthony held his breath, waiting for her to continue.

“Instead, I have found nearly a hundred reasons to surrender and accept that perhaps,” she inhaled, “perhaps I was fated to you from the very start.”

“Does this mean you accept my proposal?” Anthony drew in a breath. He could see the internal battle in her mind, afraid, pained by the question he continued to pose to her.

“Please,” she paused, looking back down at her lap, “do not hurt me. I have spent a lifetime fearing my brother’s anger and I cannot,” her voice cracked and Anthony’s heart broke, “I cannot bear to spend the rest of my life in continuation of the same fear with another man.”

Anthony crossed over to her, leaning in front of her and took her face in both of his hands – taking great care to be as gentle as he could be. She looked at him, causing tears to fall from her eyes. He reached forward, placing a kiss under each eye where the tears had fallen.

“I swear upon all of the stars in the sky that I will not hurt you, Annalise."

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #oc #netflix #fanfic

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 2 days

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Honey, you bring the worst out of me ♥️

JEGULUS. Enemies to enemies in lust with each other. Toxic, mutual obsession. Jegulus who hate each other's guts. None of them are good to each other and they don't try. CW: NSFW. SMUT AT THE END. According to James, Regulus is a death sentence. Poor guy.

Jegulus who spit in each other's mouths.

James and Regulus who tolerate each other for Sirius' sake.

James, who tells Regulus to let his brother go, if he ever truly loved him. Who tells Regulus to stop being selfish and set Sirius free. That when Sirius looked to the future, he was facing James. Not him.

Regulus, who taunts James because he can never be just Sirius' brother. That Sirius' outright refusal to choose between them is because he can't love James enough to fill the hole Regulus will leave in his life. Sirius is stuck right in the middle and it was James, who Sirius felt needed to be reminded — that he wouldn't choose between them.

Jegulus who inevitably end up bloodied and battered by each other's fists. Hands gripping the other close as they peer into each other's eyes. Resentment. Loathing. Themselves. They see perfectly as they look.

James, who hates the way Regulus puts himself above others as he says it's his birthright to do so. He's sick of the surety in Regulus' calm admittance that he only cares about the people he loves, the rest be damned.

Regulus, who loathes Potter's insistence that his every moral thought be followed. He watches as James proudly proclaims that people can simply be beaten and fought into submission until they know right from wrong. Regulus who takes sick, sick pleasure as he casts a deep cutting curse the moment James decides he couldn't stomach Regulus' indifference.

Regulus, who realizes that no one can ever make his blood sing the way James does whenever their fires burn in each other's presence.

—

James, who dreams about pale skin with deep, purple bruises he put on there. He thinks of how he'd love to see more of it. More skin. More bruises.

Regulus who takes satisfaction in seeing the scar his curse leaves on James' brown skin. He thinks, he should've cut deeper.

—

Jegulus who look for each other everywhere. Who wait for each other every time. Who feel the violence singing, calling to each other. And, something else — the urge to maim, to mark, to hurt, to touch.

James who won't let anyone near Regulus because he doesn't deserve that kind of love, while the other merely steals away the people attracted to James' burning. Regulus is a star, he burns brightly too. James can starve. They orbit each other, just as well as they keep people away from each other. They've done well in making sure they don't have anyone else but themselves.

—————•

Regulus, who, upon graduation, decides he wants to study in France, then Germany, then... Then Egypt. Sirius sees him off with a tight hug, afraid to let his brother go so far, for so long. Remus is standing steady just beside Sirius ready to catch him after Regulus leaves, while Peter quietly takes a picture of the two brothers' first, real goodbye.

And James is there. Staring. Hungry. Left unsatisfied. Regulus simply decided there was nothing to stick around for. James was unworthy of much else.

—

Regulus hears the bustling of a foreign city, well awake late into the night, outside his bedroom window. Paris. Regulus really did it. Tomorrow, he'll be gone, off to a small province in the country to look for a woman who they say teaches potions only to five people every four years. Perenelle Flamel is a madwoman, and whatever happens, she'll be teaching six instead of five. He'll make sure.

Regulus looks into the future with hunger. Ambition ringing through him, pushing, pulling.

But also, right now, alone with himself —

(tan skin, mocking smiles, derisive sneers, and hands that could bruise. words he knew to expect, deflect, and return with the same ugliness. his blood running hot at the sight of him, as they respond to each other merely being in the same room. he wants to mark him.)

He's bored.

—

The crack of apparition jolts Regulus awake. It's 2 am and he's in Berlin. He smiles.

"You left."

"Five months ago, yes, I did. You were there. So your savage brain finally caught up, good for you. What? Couldn't take it?"

"You left with unfinished business, you ran like a coward."

Hmm?

"I left because you were a bore."

—

Regulus will not moan. He will not clench around James' length as the other man grunts over him, hitting his prostate again and again. He will not give any sign of his pleasure away. Regulus decides right in the throes of ecstasy, that James will hunger for what he can't have. His toes curl and he fights to remain cold, careless, and spiteful.

"You're shaking, you know? Quivering like the slut you are," James whispers into his ear, the last few words tapering into a rough moan. The man has set a relentless pace, merely pinning Regulus down into his bed, only exerting enough effort to free himself and sink into Regulus' hole. James pauses, choosing to do so with a harsh thrust in, before grinding deeper, making sure he's pressing up into that one spot that has Regulus spasming — legs cramping underneath the man's weight as he twitches. He can't help it, he opens his mouth to let out desperate heaving breaths.

"There we go," James smiles into his shoulder.

Hands grip onto his hips tight enough to bruise, and careless enough to have nails digging into his flesh, and James goes right back to fucking him as hard as he can.

Regulus moans, "No, stop." He fucking hates this, giving James any sort of satisfaction. He fucking hates it. But he's been fighting every single spasm for so long his body's simply seizing up as it gives in to the onslaught of James' hard fucking. His own cock is trapped beneath his body, sensitive to the damp sheets as he's been leaking copiously, precum fucked out of him, and it's a harsh sensation to a warm cock, teetering to orgasm.

He's caught, pinned down, no — held down. And James won't stop.

A hand roughly grabs on to the back of his neck, pushing his face down as James props himself up to change angles. It's awful it's too much. Regulus opens his mouth, he breathes cotton in, gasping for breath. Muscles tighten into familiar spasms and he can feel his legs cramping against James'.

"I'm gonna cum," he hears him say.

He's trapped. He can't help but feel the way James hammers inside of him, each time sparking delirious pleasure inside. It's too much and James, won't stop. He's relentless. Hungry.

It's the same hunger he baited since he left London for something else. The man fucking into him with wild abandon, Regulus thinks, came after him. All the way to Berlin. Thinking back to the day of his departure, he remembers seeing James' eyes over his brother's shoulder and knew he won.

He's not so sure now.

"Regulus," James moans.

Regulus comes first. And he comes screaming, as he whites out.

He hears smug laughter, and the fading sensation of a quickening pace as James fucks into him with vindictive glee.

—

He's beautiful, isn't he? James thinks as he looks down at the sleeping figure of Regulus Black. He was never really blind to the man's beauty, though knowing intimately how he goes about destroying people, it was just another part of him that he used as a weapon. It wasn't something James ever admired.

It was poisoned beauty and James was immune to the spectacle of it all.

"Passed out from a good fucking, you little slut."

All these years of relentless fighting. All the blood and bruises. The poison and venom. It all came down to this.

Granted, it was the best orgasm of his life. He's fucked men and women, separately, together, sometimes with someone else watching. All good fun. So he knows this was different, just from the way he needed to fuck Regulus — hungered and raged to be inside of him and hold him down, to have him, finally.

Still, now, as he looks at the man, he wants more. His fingers twitch at the desire to grab him awake and fuck him open again.

"I've marked you haven't I? Look at you and your precious little scar. Mangled and ugly, just like yourself. Did you keep it to remember me by? Did you like the way I made you bleed? Forget it. You followed me like a dog. A savage. To Berlin, you fucking idiot. You're mine now."

Hypocrite. Regulus had been leaving clues in all his letters to Sirius, well aware he'd be reading over his shoulder.

James knows that the hate is deep and mutual, having festered due to the person between them and their inability to love Sirius the way the other found acceptable, enough. They fight like wolves over the man they love more than themselves, a brother and a best friend.

And as men, outside of the person who brought them together, they're fundamentally (morally, socially, philosophically) incompatible. James cannot fucking stomach Regulus' inherent selfishness and ease of using cruelty to get what he wants. And he knows, he looks at James and sees someone he can get rid off.

Yet, like this, they inevitably, seek each other out.

You're mine.

What a death sentence.

When they're done with each other, James wonders what'll be left of them to salvage.

#regulus black #james potter #starchaser #jegulus #james x regulus #jegulus smut #regulus smut #marauders era fanfiction #jegulus fanfiction #jegulus headcanon #regulus headcanon #the black brothers #marauders era #sirius black #hp marauders #hp fanfiction #marauders era fic #dead gay wizards #my writing

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sky-scribbles · 19 hours

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It is such a Sam Riegel thing to do, keeping his friends and the entire fandom waiting on his new character for so long. I personally think this is iconic. And while we wait, I had a Think about what kind of character I'd like to see introduced:

(Disclaimer that this is based less on what I think Sam would be likely to create, or what I think he specifically would do well; it's entirely based on what I think would be fun, or would add something to the party. If anyone has more thoughts based on Sam as a player specifically, please do add them!)

A reilora, or any Ruidian. I talked about this a bit already, but now the Hells are going to be off Ruidus for a chunk of time, this would be such a great way to bring in new Ruidus lore in a way that would feel personal to the players and characters. It would give both the characters and fandom even more reason to care about the fate of the Ruidians. There could be some exploration of what it could be like for the Ruidians if they do get to come to Exandria. And Matt has definitely had time to brew up the stats for reilora PCs by now.

A character with a positive, healthy relationship with an Exandrian god. Now that FCG is dead, the rest of Bell's Hells are aggressively neutral toward the gods, or negative toward them; the other cleric PC we had, Deanna, loathed her god. Team Issylra encountered some of the worst aspects of Exandrian faith on their vacation from hell. I'm not saying any of those attitudes are bad or unjustified! But this campaign has been an examination of the gods' impact on Exandria, and by the coincidence of what characters everyone has rolled up, we've largely only seen one side of it. Even FCG was very new to their faith and the other characters... didn't always take it all that seriously. It would be fascinating to have a character thrown into the mix at this stage who's more akin to Caduceus or Pike, in that their faith is a positive, integral part of their life. It could be an interesting shake-up to the conversations the Hells have had so far.

A paladin. Just... any paladin. It's the only class that has never been used for a main campaign character's base class, with Vax and Fjord multiclassing into it later in their arcs. I want to see a paladin who's always been a paladin! Paladins are fun! And from a mechanical standpoint, FCG's loss leaves a space open for a general healer/tank/support character, all of which paladins can cover.

An Aeorian who's been freed from their bubble. Look, I love Aeor. I want the Aeor lore. And seeing an Aeorian, someone who has lost everyone and everything they knew at the hands of the gods, but also as a direct result of what happened last time someone tried to kill the gods... would be interesting. (Also make them have known Bolo)

Again, would any of these be Sam's vibe? I have no idea, and I trust that whatever he does will be amazing! But if he rocks up with a reilora paladin, at least I'll know that I have the gift of prophecy.

#cr spoilers #cr3 spoilers #critical role

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witchpassing · 3 days

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“Well?”

Misericorde gathers herself up onto hands and knees, probes her midsection with impatient fingers. Results inconclusive. “.... No. Do it again. Harder.”

Anise, standing over her, not a hair out of place, recalibrates an eyebrow. “You’ll break,” it says, in the tone of one commenting on the weather. Its half-lidded eyes, dark and heavy as tourmaline, bear an expression of profound disinterest.

Misericorde wants to swear. “That’s the point. That’s the point. What part of I want you to hurt me don’t you understand, I don’t care if I–”

“This one cares.” Anise marks a half-circle around Misericorde’s half-slumped body, its shoes ticking on the polished hardwood of the cellar floor, even as a metronome. Misericorde loathes that effortless perfection, and Anise knows it. That’s why she chose it for this. “If it breaks you, it’ll get in trouble. We’re all supposed to get along nicely here, Misery.”

“Stop doing Caretaker’s voice.”

“It’s a good impression. She sounds like that.” Well, she does, but -

“It’s disrespectful.”

Anise laughs, three perfect, lilting a-ha couplets. The worst part about Anise’s laugh, Misericorde has decided, is that it actually does come naturally, right down to the slender curl of hand before mouth. “You’re so confused, Misery. Do you still think you’re a good doll?”

“Look, I’ll– I’ll say I fell down the stairs again, just–”

“You can't really expect that excuse to hold.”

Anise’s little half-moon smirk is unbearable, intolerable, just fucking right, and at this point Misericorde makes the mistake of saying:

“Please.”

Something kindles in the well of those lazy tourmaline eyes, and Misericorde realises, belatedly, that Anise is as good at playing hard to get as it is at everything else.

#this one's writing #microfiction #dollposting #empty spaces

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brawcolie · 1 year

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Trouble:)

#this is my love letter to rand who is very sad and very drunk and i need someone to think of him as a responsibility than a friend #i need JR to absolutely loathe him at his worst and tolerate him at his best #i love jrs giant @$$ forehead no one is drawing it that big fr #I didnt know how much this dynamic gets my brain chugging #I NEED TO BE EFFING DOING MY WORK:)#inside job #rand ridley #jr scheimpough #jrand #my art #...............#Ok.#emetophobia

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trash-can-sam · 30 days

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What happens when your coworker kills your other coworker but both of you are in a relationship (kind of) with the same ethereal woman who had an admiration for said dead coworker.

+bonus Evandrey because it’s funny to me (I’m sorry Eva.)

#pathologic #pathologic 2 #andrey stamatin #yulia lyuricheva #eva yan #evandrey #yulieva #evaandrey #Eva yahn #Andrei Stamatin #see I think that Eva is very okay with Eva being how she is- promiscuous and spreading her love (Maybe a little jealous but more rooted in #self loathing and insecurities)#and she’s like look I’m okay with this whole open relationship (technically we aren’t in a relationship even though I really want to be)#thing BUT why HIM. I have to work with him and he’s by far the worst man I’ve ever worked with (besides maybe his brother because at least #Andrey actually talks but really they’re a package deal anyways) I need to have meetings with him often and it’s horrendous every time #like spread your love it’s noble really.#I wouldn’t expect anything else from you #but maybe give him less he’s annoying as hell #I also think that she’d figure out pretty quickly that Andrey and Peter killed Farkhad #just bcuz like. yk she’s there. she’s seen the already shaky relationship crumble beyond repair. she’s seen them argue in meetings.#she knows the stamatwins are not above murder. especially for art. and she’s clever.#And andrey knows that so he doesn’t try to hide it. she doesn’t have recourse anyways-#the kains (who I think helped cover up the murder) employ her too #and andrey respects her to a degree- he assumes she’ll see reason.#and honesty. Yulia might be upset that Andrey killed one of the only other architects but also she does not miss him that much.#she’s like I don’t agree with this whole murder thing but you are kind of right he had to go he was getting on my nerves #the meetings will be 10x more tolerable now that the twins can’t argue with him about things that aren’t even real #it’s awful but it did drive Eva further into my arms so necessary evils.#my art #sorry for the essay in the tags.

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yoruiichii · 9 months

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and another thing about qijiu is like -

anytime shen (jiu) qingqiu gets into an "altercation" its like:

yqy, thinking: what happened? i need to know from him what happened so i can protect him from the consequences, no matter what it was and no matter how much he might be blamed. and what would have happened if i wasn't there to do so? before, he paid the price for things that were my fault, and last time i left him- (guilt spiral, etc.)

yqy aloud: what did you do?

shen jiu, hearing this, thinking: he thinks i'd do that? how low is his opinion of me really? does he truly think there are no depths to which i wouldn't sink? and i thought it couldn't be lower. so quick to blame me and ignore anyone else's part in this. so quick to distance himself from his sordid past.

shen jiu, aloud: i'm sure it makes no difference to you.

choose your fighter: yqy's unconditional devotion and inability to communicate vs. shen jiu's self-loathing making him interpret it as disinterest and blame (and also his inability to communicate)

#svsss #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #qijiu #and the worst (best) part of this all is that if they could actually have a conversation where they communicate this #shen jiu would probably be really into the unconditional devotion thing #for someone who feels so isolated and unloved #to be told no matter how deep a hole he finds himself in or how he got there yqy will still care is like. a fundamental change in worldview #(though i think sj's self-loathing might first lead him to think that there SHOULD be conditions to caring about him)#(which ofc leads to more 79 conflict)#and weve also seen that generally if sj orders him to not do something yqy follows that directive #so this could work out so well #BUT because 79 is 79 this is basically impossible #if they actually had a conversation about this it would be more like #yqy: i want to know from qingqiu what happened.#sj: so you think i'm the kind of person that would do all of this? is your opinion of me that low?#yqy: no! what shidi has done doesn't matter #sj: it doesn't matter? i see.#sj: sect leader must act as censure for the entire sect. perhaps he might speak to the other involved party next time.#yqy: ...this one has failed you.#and then sj leaves the conversation thinking yqy's a liar and a hypocrite #and yqy leaves subsumed in even more guilt #and then when yqy changes his behavior and doesnt ask/blame sj immediately after an incident #sj is like: oh. he doesn't care? he's given up? he's really distancing himself now.#[rattles the bars of my cage] 79 MAKE ME INSANE #miscommunication as the basis for conflict can be annoying but 79 does it perfectly #as the miscommunication is based on differing inherent ways of understanding/interacting with others #and can absolutely not be solved in a single conversation #anyways sorry for the tags being longer than the actual post

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whiskeyswifty · 1 year

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#i think one of the things that i really enjoy being on here is the majority of us stuck around tumblr and didnt migrate #because we genuinely just love shooting the shit about her and her songs and her mythology #creating content and engaging in (sometimes) good hearted debates #and the one good thing is most people on here are at least 8/10+ year fans of hers so you're talking to people who #deeply appreciate her as an artist and a public figure #and aren't looking for attention really and in fact would loathe her return to the platform because #this atmosphere is really nice when it's this and it's mostly nice cuz she's not here #(for the most part like OBVIOUSLY some brain diseases never leave people just cuz she left and we all avoid you people)#but i think my favorite part is that this environment allows me to easily find people who are the true two feet on the ground people like m #who are ok talking about her as the business woman that she is. shrewd and calculating and #how that's not a value judgement or a character judgement. this is her JOB and it requires certain mental and emotional relationships #that she doesn't want fans to be aware of but they are the reality and duh they're hidden BECAUSE that would ruin the way the #entire machine functions like i know i know #but i didn't realize how far and few swifites who can enjoy her and see her for what she is and appreciate WHY that is are and not be #personally offended like thank god she's not here cuz idk how i would have found those people #also i'm over the moon she's (temporarily at least) done with the M&G shit cuz the wars that would have broken out between the #new tiktok fans and the tumblr old guard...... i would have perhaps left this platform entirely #i couldn't take it during rep and that was just about whether or not you deserved to be a FAN because of an album concept #swifties at their worst and most cult like loyalty that never turned me off swiftie fandom faster #and now that there is a HUGE divide.... i already know who taylor would choose for m&gs and i know WHY and it's not like evil #but the effect it would have on legacy fans....... there would be never a worse time in swiftie history so thank GOD for this #so i can keep blogging about my hot wife and her top tier songwriting and my love of pattern recognition #IN PEACE #idk what this was all about but i just like had to brain dump i guess anyway love all of you my smart normal grown up friends on here

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forcedhesitation · 3 months

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I'm actually still pretty disappointed about the changes that were made to implicate a canon relationship between gortash and the dark urge. you are given so much choice in this game! so it feels shitty that they took away your choice to interpret that dynamic how you'd like.

I had a dark urge campaign that I started and no longer will finish because I don't want that to sully my character's romance with wyll. it angers me enough how wyll is given barely any material for not just his story, but also his romance. like it's so unfair that rather than new material added to wyll's romance, all I was going to get was lines about how my character had a relationship with a fucking fascist. load of shit that is.

#bg3 #thoughts about media #I'm deeply upset about things to do with real life that are unrelated to this and that I do not want to talk about.#but justifiably complaining about media I care about? I have a degree in complaining about media. I can do that.#anyway. I had a really cool character planned and now I have to now reinvent him or make a new one.#likely the latter because he doesn't really make sense as a character at all if he's not a bhaalspawn.#and no I refuse to romance someone else. I want to finish wyll's story with the romance involved.#I only recently managed to finish astarion's because I finally got myself to focus enough to finish ONE campaign.#I really wish I had finished two by now. so I could have finished the dark urge and seen what the story was like without any changes.#also no I cannot ignore these changes. I think gort's a GREAT villain. but I don't want to fuck him. I don't get how people DO.#out of the chosen three he's easily the fucking worst and a kind of evil that can't really be understood as “fun” or “fantastical”#whereas ketheric and orin are largely fantastical in what they do and what they represent.#that people cheer over canon durgetash despite the atrocious way larian continues to treat wyll?#I loathe it.#I. have. a few ideas for a new character. I know I want him to have daddy issues because that's what urged me to romance wyll with durge.#boyfriends with daddy issues is not only interesting. but hot. so I want to keep that element.#idk if I'll keep the paladin I made though. or go an entirely different direction.#because in the process of trying to reinterpret my bhaalspawn into a tav...I had a rather clever idea that I'm liking more and more.

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sodaabaa · 2 days

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stolen tires, chapter one

jason returns to gotham after the world believed him to be dead. heavily inspired by the film, under the red hood.

tw: mentions of death, angst, self loathing, grief, abuse

Jason's funeral was today. The only people who would be there were Bruce's foster son, Dick, his biological son, Damian, Commissioner Jim Gordon as well as Doctor Lee Thompkins. Bruce entered one of his many cars with Alfred to leave the manor for the funeral. It would be held at a small and humble church on the outskirts of Gotham, to try and avoid the press. The swarm of news reporters and journalists were the last people Bruce wanted to deal with today. He didn't have the patience or the energy to deal with them today. As he drew closer and closer to the church the dread and pain that filled his stomach had been getting worse. Bruce felt as though he was reliving the death of his parents. He felt hollow like a part of his body had been ripped off brutally. As they reached their destination, Bruce could see Dick and his girlfriend Barbara Gordon, the Commissioner's daughter. Once they parked he got out of the car to go and greet them.

"Glad you could make it Richard, Barbara. It means a lot, thank you." He said, giving them a small grin.

Dick offered a sympathetic smile and said, "Jason was like a little brother to me, I wouldn't have missed it even if Gotham was falling apart."

All smiles, all the time. Dick knew how to make even the most heart-wrenching situations a bit brighter with his cheery personality. The day was cold and dreary as if even the sun was mourning for Jason and the clouds showed their respect by joining together in a grey, suffocating blanket that only they could think was offering protection. Bruce thought he was protecting Jason, that he gave him a better life but what was the point of that "better life" if it was short lived?

Bruce couldn't help thinking, if only he had been a little faster, a little earlier, a little sharper. He could've saved his son's life. The night before he could hardly sleep because of the pain, the remorse, regret and the sorrow he felt losing a piece of his heart. He dreamt of Jason, first he came to his dreams as the scared and lonely young boy he had found stealing the tires of his car. That was the day Bruce had first met Jason, stealing tires, he almost laughed at the thought of one of the strongest young men he had ever known stealing tires to sell to be able to afford food. That was also the day he had taken him in. Raised him, taught him and loved him so that he could feel normal and have a family. The dream had shifted, now he was boy wonder himself, eager to catch low life thugs on the street and ensure that the people of Gotham were safe. The final scene of his dream-turned-nightmare was Jason's limp, lifeless body hanging in his arms, gone.

Although he didn't show it, Bruce was disappointed by the lack of people at the funeral. There was a total of six people that showed up. Five of those people had the potential to save Jason. They could've saved him. They couldn't. Bruce looked over to the entrance to see Jim and Lee entering. He walked over to greet them.

"Thank you for coming, both of you." He said to them, offering his hand to shake.

"I'm so sorry for loss Bruce, I only met Jason briefly but he was a good kid, taken too soon." Jim said, shaking his hand.

He had heard that phrase far too many times. For his parents. Jason. For every soul he had ever lost. Few ever actually meant those words. I'm sorry for your loss. Bruce made his way towards the stage to give his short eulogy. He'd given speeches hundreds of times being the CEO of Wayne Enterprises but this was different. He was about to give a speech about a young boy who had been taken from this world in the worst way, and it was all Bruce's fault. With a heavy heart and a burdened soul, he quietly walked towards the podium, trying his best not to slouch and prepared for his speech.

"Jason Peter Todd. Born August 16th 1992. He was an interesting soul. He was introverted yet ambitious. Curious yet so shy. I never really knew how to describe Jason in a way that would truly capture his personality. It took me awhile to get to him but when I did I was amazed by the colors of his heart. Despite being a victim of abuse, he never faltered in his sense of duty to making sure others never had to go through what he did. To shorten it, Jason was a hero. I took him in, a scared, lonely boy at the time, little did I know that this little boy would go on to become an amazing young man who would repeatedly risk his life for others, who would become so smart, maybe even too smart for his own good. Jason was everything you would want in a son."

He let out a humorless laugh, "you know, it's true what they say; the good die young."

The room was pin drop silent and Bruce took a shaky breath and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm the stinging tears breaking through.

"Jason Todd was a beautiful soul taken away from us, from me, far too soon. May his soul rest in absolute peace."

What Bruce didn't know was that his soul wouldn't know peace for a long time.

#red hood #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #batman #under the red

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